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I got up from my desk and walked around to his, leaning low and whispering, “Helps me keep my girlish figure.” I was happy to get a laugh out of him as I continued to walk past.

Our gym, even though the sign on the door read Fitness Center, wasn’t large. It housed a couple of treadmills, an elliptical machine, and a stationary bike on one wall, with a cable machine and some free weights on the other. There was also a sizable floor mat for stretching. It couldn’t compete with the gym where Craig and I had memberships, but it was enough to get my blood pumping and clear my head.

I’d changed in the locker room, and when I opened the door to the gym, someone else was lying on the weight bench, using dumbbells. Not paying him any mind, I got on the stationary bike to warm up, putting my earbuds in to zone out.

No sooner had I broken a sweat than I noticed a pair of sneakers standing in front of me. I’d had my head down, and my eyes closed for a good minute and hadn’t seen him approach. When I glanced up, there stood one of Flanigan’s buddies from the bar, glowering at me. I took one of my earbuds out and sat upright as he spoke.

“You know you broke his fucking nose,” he spat.

Not wanting another confrontation, I kept my cool. “I heard. His mouth has a way of getting him into trouble, though.” My voice was even and relaxed as I continued to pedal.

“He was drunk. You didn’t need to go that far,” he replied angrily.

“Well, he was about to say something that kind of grated on my nerves, if you know what I mean. I figured perhaps if I stopped his homophobic slur, he just might get the message.” I paused before he could speak. “What’s your name, officer?”

A look of surprise came over him. “Wilson…Keith Wilson. Why do you want to know? Are you gonna punch me, too?”

I smirked. “No, Wilson, I’m not going to punch you. But for your information, what I did to Flanigan was a dick move. I shouldn’t have hit him, and I regret it.”

I figured the best way to de-escalate the conversation was to admit my wrongdoing so we could move on. And honestly, I came down here to work out, not get my blood pressure up in a way that wasn’t beneficial.

Wilson looked down at his feet, probably not expecting me to admit I’d been in the wrong.

“I-I think you should apologize to him,” he said, without a defensive tone. I noticed his breathing had slowed and his shoulders relaxed.

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll apologize for hitting him if he first apologizes for his behavior. As his friend, perhaps you can help with that. Unless you have a problem with me being gay?”

His eyes widened. “No, I don’t have a problem with that. I know he was upset about not getting promoted. That’s why we were drinking that night. He was told that day.”

“So he took it out on the first detective he saw, and it happened to be me. How long has he been a police officer?” I asked after picking up speed on the bike again.

“Two years…same as me.”

“It takes a few more years on the force to be promoted to detective if that’s what he was going for, and he should know that. There are many factors in being chosen—time spent on the streets, writing reports, making arrests, and gaining investigative experience. I was a patrolman for seven years before I applied.”

Wilson glanced at his feet again. “He doesn’t have much patience, unfortunately.”

“True of a lot of guys your age,” I said with a chuckle. He just looked at me. “I think we can move on from this, and you being his friend and keeping him in check may help. You get me?”

He gave me a thin smile and raised a fist for me to bump. “Yes, sir.” I bumped his knuckles back.

The gym’s door opened, and to my surprise, there stood Sean in workout gear, staring at us.

“Is everything okay in here?” he asked, his eyes flicking between Wilson and me.

“Yeah…everything’s good,” Wilson said, walking to the weight bench, grabbing his towel, and walking out, leaving Sean and me alone. I blew out an audible breath.

“Are you okay?” he asked, putting his weightlifting gloves on.

“Me? Couldn’t be better. It’s all good.” I picked up speed on the bike and asked, “Why are you here? I thought you’d be scarfing down a burger or something unhealthily greasy?”

“After what you said, I thought I should work on my girlish figure, too,” he replied, striking a pose. We burst out in a fit of laughter.

With our workout done, showered, and changed, I went back to his question about lunch as we walked back to the squad room. He laughed and said that once I’d left for the gym, he’d called Lorraine to see if she had the time to bring him a smoothie.

“You called your wife to bring you lunch?” I quipped.

“Hey…she had the day off, and I asked nicely. She just texted and said she’s on her way.”