“I don't know, maybe this.” I poke my stomach as it protrudes slightly over the waistband of my shorts. “Or maybe the fact I still live with my mother at the grand old age of forty-two.”
“Marcello, there is nothing wrong with your body. I hope you're not here because you desperately want to change the way you look?”
“Is that so bad?”
“No, but trust me, if you don't love yourself now, you won't automatically start loving yourself when you're a few kilograms lighter and have more definition in your arms.”
“I suppose not,” I concede.
“As for living with your mother,” Giles presses his lips together in thought, “is that something you want to change? Is it for financial reasons, for example?”
“No, not at all. I live there because I like living there. I...” I pause, holding the truth back for just a few more seconds. “I tried living on my own before. I didn't like it.”
Giles nods. “I understand,” he says and I believe him, easily, which feels like a great relief. “And I'm sure many women will understand it too, if notallwomen. But that's okay. Consider it an easy way to weed out the ones who aren't worthy.”
“That's actually really solid advice.” I nod. “You should maybe take it for yourself.”
“What do you mean?”
“You should be honest about what you want, you know, the love thing, with the men you meet, with Tony, and then if they don't want the same thing, that's your way of weeding out the ones who aren't worthy.”
“You make it sound so easy.” Giles has started another set but there’s still very limited struggle in his movements.
“Maybe it is.” I shrug. "Maybe we've both been over complicating things. Maybe you need to just talk to Tony, and I just need to try dating again.”
It feels like Giles' eye contact intensifies a little, his hot stare fixing on mine a littler sharper. Or maybe he's just starting to actually feel the burn of the exercises he's doing.
“Maybe,” he says.
“Why don't we both try?” I offer. “I'll download a dating app and you talk to Tony next time you see him. Maybe ask him out on a date where you can be honest with him.”
Giles winces. He must really be struggling now.
“Fine,” he says as he uses the lever to disconnect the weights. “I will if you will.”
“Deal.” I nod and hold up my clenched fist for him to bump. As he does I smile at him but his eyes have already dropped mine and he doesn't give me one back.
Chapter Six
Giles
“Do we have to do it here? With all these people?” Marcello says as he looks around him. We’re standing at the Marble Arch entrance to Hyde Park and it is, admittedly, very busy. But it won’t stay this way.
“We’ll be running away from the crowds,” I point out and hold up my right arm so I can get my watch ready to track our run. We’ve completed a short stretching routine and I can tell from the frown on Marcello’s face that if we don’t do this soon, there’s a good chance he’ll chicken out completely.
“And we’re not doing your nine-kilometre route?”
“Nope. We’ll go for six kilometres today.”
“Six?!” Marcello splutters.
I raise a hand to his shoulder and pat him reassuringly. “You’ll be fine,” I say. “And if you’re not, we’ll just walk what we can’t run.”
“And we’re not stopping for coffee and cake on the way?” Marcello's smile and tone are teasing.
I drop my hand and wag a finger at him. “That can be your reward at the end,” I say. “Are you ready?”
“I wouldn’t say that but—”
