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Author: Billie Patsy
last update publish date: 2026-08-21 14:07:52

MIA

The alarm went off at six-thirty, but I was already awake. I had been staring at the ceiling for almost an hour, listening to the soft snoring beside me and trying to convince myself that today would be fine. It wasn’t.

Ryan rolled over and stretched, then sat up like he had been waiting for this moment.

“Get up,” he said. “Jake’s expecting you at eight.”

I pulled the blanket higher. “I don’t want to go.”

He laughed under his breath, the same short sound he always made when he thought I was being dramatic. “We already talked about this. You’re going.”

“I don’t feel comfortable around him,” I said quietly. “He’s your brother. I’ve never even been alone with him for more than five minutes.”

Ryan stood up and walked to the closet. He pulled out a pair of my old black leggings and a loose T-shirt, then tossed them onto the bed.

“Relax,” he said. “He’s not going to be tempted by that body.”

The words landed harder than I expected. I stared at the clothes, my throat tight. He said it so casually, like it was obvious. Like the idea of anyone wanting me was a joke.

I didn’t answer. I just got up and went to the bathroom. The mirror showed the same soft face and full figure I saw every morning. I tied my hair back, put on the clothes, and tried not to look at myself again.

Ryan drove. The silence in the car felt heavier than usual. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and glanced at me once.

“You’ll thank me later,” he said. “When you can actually fit into nice clothes again.”

I kept my eyes on the window. “I didn’t ask for this.”

“You didn’t have to. I’m your husband. It’s my job to push you when you won’t push yourself.”

We pulled into the parking lot of Jake’s gym. It looked bigger than I remembered—modern glass walls and bright lights already on inside. Ryan put the car in park.

“Go on,” he said. “I’ll pick you up in two hours.”

“You’re not coming in?”

“Why would I? You’re the one who needs the work.” He leaned over and opened my door. “Don’t make this harder than it is.”

I stepped out. The morning air felt cool against my skin. Behind me, the car door shut, and Ryan drove away without looking back.

For a moment I just stood there, holding the strap of my small gym bag. Through the glass I could see people moving inside—women with toned arms and flat stomachs, men lifting heavy weights like it was easy. Everyone looked like they belonged.

I forced myself to walk in.

The air smelled like clean rubber and faint sweat. Music played at a low volume. A few heads turned when I entered. One woman near the free weights glanced at me, then looked away quickly. Another whispered something to her friend. I felt my face heat up.

I kept my eyes down and moved toward the front desk, not sure what else to do. My heart was beating too fast. All I wanted was to turn around and leave before anyone else noticed me.

“Mia.”

I froze.

Jake stood a few steps away, wearing a black T-shirt and gray shorts. He looked exactly like he always did at family dinners—calm, solid, and completely at ease. Up close, though, he felt bigger. His eyes moved over me once, not in the way Ryan’s did, but steady, like he was already assessing something.

“You made it,” he said.

I nodded, but my feet were already angling toward the door. “Actually… I think I should go. This isn’t a good idea.”

He didn’t move out of the way. His voice stayed quiet. “Why not?”

“I don’t belong here.” The words came out smaller than I wanted. “Everyone in there looks like they know what they’re doing. I don’t. And I… I’m not comfortable.”

Jake studied me for a second. Then he stepped a little closer, still leaving space between us.

“You don’t have to use the main floor,” he said. “I have a private room in the back. No one else goes in there unless I let them. We can train there. Just you and me.”

I hesitated. The idea of being alone with him made my stomach twist, but the thought of walking past all those women again felt worse.

“I don’t want to waste your time,” I said.

“You’re not.” His tone was simple, almost matter-of-fact. “Your husband asked me to help. I’m going to help. But I’m not going to make you do it in front of people if it’s going to stop you from coming back.”

I looked past him at the open gym. A tall woman with perfect abs walked by and gave me a quick, unreadable glance. My fingers tightened on the strap of my bag.

Jake waited. He didn’t push. He just stood there, patient, like he already knew I was going to say yes.

Finally I let out a slow breath. “Okay. The private room.”

He nodded once and turned. “This way.”

I followed him past the main floor, keeping my eyes on the back of his shirt so I wouldn’t have to meet anyone else’s gaze. We walked down a short hallway and stopped in front of a plain door. Jake unlocked it and held it open.

The room was smaller than I expected—mirrors on one wall, a few machines, a mat, and a bench. It smelled faintly of cleaner. Quiet. Private.

Jake stepped inside and waited for me to follow.

I stood in the doorway for another second, heart still racing, the echo of Ryan’s words still sitting in my chest.

He’s not going to be tempted by that body.

I stepped in.

Jake closed the door behind us with a soft click.

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