That night, I sent the text:
Are you coming over tonight? I miss you.
A minute passed. Then two. Finally, three dots appeared.
Sorry, babe. I'm staying late at the gym alone. I need to take care of some paperwork. I need to update training schedules. Rain check?
I stared at the message, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Something inside me clenched, disappointed—but not surprised.
Still, I didn't want to end the night on a quiet ache. Not again. Not with everything we had shared recently. I wrapped my long coat around it and looked in the mirror. Underneath my coat, I wore black lace. A matching set. A little thing I'd bought months ago, tucked away in the back of my drawer, waiting for a version of me that could be that girl—bold, sexy, wanted. I looked at myself in the mirror and thought:Tonight, she gets to exist.
I arrived at the gym just after eleven. It was quiet, just one light on in the back office. I walked softly, coat clutched tight around me, heart thudding like it knew something I didn't.
I tiptoed past the empty mats and machines, my heartbeat fluttering like wings in my chest.
A soft murmur caught my ear. Two voices. Mira's laugh rang out, loud and familiar. Mira, his ex, the owner of the gym, the one he begged me never to approach her.
I paused just outside the door.
"You know, I have tofightgirls off you," Mira purred, her voice sugary-sweet and sharp underneath. "You'regorgeous, baby. And when we're official and public, they'll finally back off. I'll make sure of it."
Ryder laughed, that low rumble she once told herself was hers. "They can try. But I've only got eyes for you."
"That clingy little fan club shouldreallyback off" she teased but almost threatening, nails tapping the desk. "You never answeredme. What's the deal with that chubby girl? The one who follows you around like a stray?"
I froze.
I wasn't breathing. I wasn'talive.
Ryder chuckled—chuckled. "She's no one, Mira. Just a client. A girl who shows up every time I smile at her. Honestly? She seems desperate. It's like... she thinks being pitiful is cute."
"She always looks like she's about to cry," Mira scoffed. "Like she's trying to puppy-dog-eye her way into your bed."
"She's a charity case," he said, voice low but not low enough. "I feel bad for her. She's sweet, yeah, but come on. Do you really see me with someone likethat?"
Mira let out a dry laugh. "Please. She's built like a plush toy. Soft all over and not in a cute way." "And those skirts don't help either," she added. "Always cinched at the waist like she's pretending it's flattering. Girl, it's not."
He sighed. "let's not talk about her any longer, not worth it."
Each word peeled another layer off my skin. My breath turned jagged, my heart a frantic animal in my chest.
"I can't wait," Mira whispered, her tone dipping soft. "Just a few more months and this gym is ours. And then I get to be yours—finally."
"I know," he murmured, "I can't wait for this to be over."
"Tell me again," she said, leaning in.
"You're it, Mira," he said, his voice wrapped in devotion. "I only wantyou."
Then she leaned in, lips parted. He dodged the kiss but pressed a kiss to her forehead.
And that's when the sound escaped me. Just a breath. A tiny, trembling thing.
They turned.
She saw me first. Her eyes flicked down to the lace beneath my coat and lit up like Christmas morning.
"Ohmy God," she gasped, then burst into cruel, mean laughter. "What are you wearing?" she kept laughing "You look so—sopathetic."
