Page 73 of This Life of Mine

“I’m counting on it,” he says, smirking.

“What are your plans now?” He asks.

“The usual,” I say. “Gym.”

His brow lifts slightly. “You sure? You could probably use some rest.”

“I’m fine,” I admit. “I need to work the ache out before it creeps in and owns me.”

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Fair.”

“What about you?” I ask.

“I was heading to the gym myself.”

I glance at my car. “I always keep a gym bag in here,” I say, popping the trunk. “Extra clothes, shoes, all of it. Habit.”

“Prepared,” he notes.

“Always.”

“I go to the small gym down the road. It has everything I need. What about you?” I ask.

“Are you talking about Eddie’s Fitness?” He asks.

“That’s the one,” I say. “I’m not a big fan of the big commercial ones. They get so crowded, and I have to wait in line for a machine. Eddie’s is small but has everything. It’s never crowded when I go. At least I don’t think it ever is. I’m usually in the zone. I get my workout in and then head home.”

“Yeah, Eddie’s is the one I go to as well. I’m surprised we haven’t run into one another there.” He smiles.

“Really? That is strange.” I say.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you there in a few.” I smile back.

We drive separately but arrive within minutes of each other, parking under the soft yellow glow of the parking lot lights. The gym is quiet. Friday nights usually are. Most people take the night off or go out.

Inside, the air smells faintly of rubber mats and disinfectants. Familiar. Comforting.

I shoulder my bag, stretching carefully. My body protests, but it’s a good kind of pain, the type that signals I’m still alive.

Alex scans the room out of what looks like instinct. He seems to relax when he realizes it’s only us and a couple of distant figures on treadmills.

“Looks like we picked the right time,” I say.

“Looks like it,” he replies.

Quiet. Focused. No audience.

Exactly what I need.

“I need to change. I’ll see you in a few.”

Alex nods and walks to the men’s locker room.

I head into the ladies’ locker room and pull out my workout clothes, moving slower than usual, stretching carefully as I swap out jeans for leggings and a loose t-shirt. My body complains, but it’s the familiar kind of ache. The sort that makes me remember I’m still capable.

When I step back onto the gym floor, I spot Alex.

I stop short.Damn.