Chapter 7

Jason

I was halfway through my last set when my phone buzzed on the couch. My arms trembled, sweat slicked my palms and the gym's mirrors reflected a version of myself.

I exhaled and glanced down at my screen, to know who was calling and it was Mark. I was deciding whether to pick or not.

My brother really called, so strange. I quickly clicked on the red button.

“Hey Mark,” I said.

“Hi bro,” Mark answered.

“How’re you feeling?” Mark asked.

“I’m alright, how about you?” I answered.

“I’m good, what’s this call for?” I asked.

“Nothing serious, I’m calling in respect of dad's funeral arrangements, what has been decided,” Mark whispered.

I listened, nodding even though Mark couldn’t see me, staring at the floor as if it might crack open and offer something solid to hold onto.

“Okay, and I’m aware of that,” I whispered.

“I hope you know that,” Mark said.

“ Yes I know,” I answered.

“Just a reminder,” Mark said.

I wiped my face with my towel, sweat mixing with something sharper now, something that burned behind my eyes. I thought of the last time I’d seen my father, how ordinary it had felt, how permanent I’d assumed it was.

“Are you there?”Mark asked,

I paused, “ I’m with you.” I answered.

Then Mark hesitated, and I felt it before the words came. There was more.

“Okay, one more thing I called you was about the will, you getting married, not eventually and also not when it felt right but because of a significant portion of properties tied up in conditions our father had clearly thought through.”

“I laughed short, married? Now? In the same breath as burial plans and condolence calls? Please I do not want this type of pressure coming from you. I've got a lot in my head I want to fix up.”

“And for goodness sake just let this be, whenever i am ready to get married, you will know about it,” I whispered.

“Oh I see, Dad had wanted a family that didn’t end with him and you know this was his way of ensuring it,” Mark muttered.

My chest beat faster, you know what Mark, “I need to get to work, I’ll call you when I get home.” I said.

“Well, I’ve said my own just do the needful so it will be easy on everyone,” Mark answered.

The call ended, and I stood there for a long moment, surrounded by clanging weights and moving bodies, realizing that in the span of a few minutes, I had lost my father and inherited a future I hadn’t chosen.

I locked my phone and slipped it into my bag, zipping the pocket shut with deliberate care, as though sealing it away could contain everything Mark had just said. Burial arrangements. A will. Marriage.

I rolled my shoulders once, then again, feeling the familiar pull in my muscles. I told myself not now. Whatever this was, it could wait. Right now, there are sets to finish.

The weight was still there. Honest. It didn’t ask questions or make demands beyond what my body could give. I lifted, slowly, breath measured, counting the reps in my head. One. Two. Three. Each number pushed everything else further away.

My arms burned, and I welcomed it. The pain was simple, immediate, and contained within my skin. It drowned out images I didn’t want forming of my father’s empty house, of paperwork, of vows spoken to someone he hadn’t even imagined yet.

Around me, people came and went, absorbed in their own routines, their own private battles. No one looked at me twice. I blended back into the room, just another man working through his program, jaw set, headphones on.

I finished my workout the way I always did, muscles shaking, lungs working hard, mind narrowed to the present moment.

I sat on the edge of the locker room bench, elbows braced against my knees, staring at the floor tiles without really seeing them.

The workout should have emptied me, but instead, everything pressed in harder. My father. The will. The impossible timing of it all. I exhaled sharply and shook my head, words forming under my breath before I could stop them.

I didn’t need any of this pressure. Not now. Not ever. Life had already been full before it decided to stack expectations on top of grief.

I stood, slung my bag over my shoulder, and pushed through the gym doors into the open air. The world outside felt too bright, Cars passed.

I was heading towards where I parked my car and my phone buzzed, the vibration startled me. It was sharp and insistent in my hand, and I frowned and looked down at the screen.

The vibration startled him, sharp and insistent in my hand. Jason frowned and looked down at the screen.

An unfamiliar number stared back at me, no name, no context, just a string of digits that meant nothing. For a split second, I considered ignoring it.

I’d had enough conversations for one day. Enough surprises. But something tugged at me, a restless curiosity mixed with irritation. Whoever it was had caught me at the wrong moment, and I wanted to know why.

I answered quickly. “Hello?” My voice came out firm, and calm..

There was a pause on the other end, then a woman spoke, tentative but warm, as if she wasn’t sure she’d reached the right person.

She said my name, carefully, like it mattered how she pronounced it.

I straightened, confusion cutting through the fog in my head. I asked who was calling, already bracing myself for another complication.

She introduced herself as Clara’s friend. The name landed softly but unmistakably, pulling my attention in a direction I hadn’t been facing.

My grip tightened on the phone as she explained how she’d gotten my number, apologizing once, then continuing before I could interrupt.

Her tone wasn’t urgent, just earnest, as if this call had been debated before it was finally made.

“So what’s the problem?” I asked.

“Well, Clara was rushed to the hospital,” she said.

“What? Please kindly send me the address. I'd be right there in a few hours.” I answered.

Everything is happening so fast, the pressure in my chest shifting into something unfamiliar.