To trying new things

At the end of my shift, I check my phone. I quickly notice I have no messages from Michael. I can’t say I am surprised, but it still hurts to feel so disconnected and unsure of our relationship right now. B, however, had messaged me back.

B: Girl, don’t worry about him tonight. Instead of staying home alone. I have an idea…

B: Let’s go to the kick boxing class together! I know working out isn’t really your thing, but you’ve had a lot happen in the couple days. I think punching some shit would help! 🥊

I contemplate that. I really, truly, am not one for physical activities. It’s just never been my thing. However, I’ve never tried kickboxing. Bianca always talks about how much she loves it and how much it helps with relieving stress. Ugh, fuck it. I’ll try it. Michael says he’s working. So why can’t I go do something? I always stay home waiting on him like the dutiful wife. Well, maybe I need to get out and do more for myself. That sounds like a solid plan. Right?

I message B back letting her know I’ll meet her there.

B: 🎉🥳

I head home to change into clothes that I hope will work for kick boxing and then head the gym that Bianca goes to. I’m a little nervous about this. I’m really hoping I don’t embarrass myself. Shaking my head at myself, I head to the door. I spot Bianca waiting for me. She wraps her arms around me when I get close. “I’m so glad you came!” She says. “We’re going to have a blast! You’ll also feel muscles you didn’t even know existed tomorrow!” She laughs at that. I don’t. I am not excited about that at all.

Walking inside to the gym, I see the area that’s set up for the class to one side. There looks to be ten or so others over there preparing for the class. Bianca heads over and introduces me to some of the people she’s gotten to know. The first is a petite, toned, brunette named Rachel. The second is a guy, about our age, if I had to guess, with tan skin, dark eyes and hair. He introduces himself as Jose. Jose seems like he has a really fun personality. Lastly, I meet a taller, light skinned, red head named Miranda. She smiles with her whole face. They all seem so nice. I don’t have a lot of time to talk though, as our instructor walks to the front. He’s an older lithe man; clearly he works out, graying hair, sharp blue eyes, and he has an authoritative presence. He commands attention and looks around welcoming everyone to the class. Then we get to work. It starts out easy enough with some stretches. Stretches I can handle. Shortly after stretches though, we get out the gloves.

Bianca shows me how to wrap my hands. It feels strange to have my hands wrapped and then in these giant gloves. Bianca and I face a bag, and the instructor coaches the class through the routines and movements. At first, I feel silly as my gloves hit the bag. Why am I here? I’m all sweaty and I know I look ridiculous. I feel my hair frizzy and my chest is bright red from exertion. Bianca must pick up on my feelings because she says “Holls, you’re doing great but put some force into these hits!”

I roll my eyes, but I begin to put more effort behind my kicks and punches. I am shocked that it feels a little cathartic to do this. So I do it again, and again. I stand there, thinking about what I witnessed yesterday at the café. The smile on Michaels face, aimed at another woman. I remember how beautiful she was, even from a distance. With those visions in my head I start again, this time I put the full force of my power behind the hits as I go through the motions that I was shown. By the time we switch places, I’m breathing heavy and there’s sweat dripping down my back, but there’s a big smile on my face. B was right. This did make me feel better. Note to self: it feels good to punch from shit.

As B and I leave the class, Rachel, José, and Miranda catch up with us outside.

“Ladies! Let’s go get a drink!” Jose says way too gleefully after a work out. I look to Bianca and she’s smiling at him, and then glances at me. I shrug. Why not? It’d be fun I think to myself, and we march off down the street.

We walk a couple blocks to a bar I’ve never been to. The sign says “Crossroads”. How fucking fitting I think to myself as we walk inside together. Inside the bar definitely gives off elevated dive bar feels. The lighting is a bit dark and it’s clean. There’s a dark wood bar, with seats around it. Matching dark wood tables fill the remaining space, with the exception of a small portion that looks to be a dance floor. No one’s dancing right now though. Behind the bar, stacked on shelves, is liquor of every kind. As a group, we head to one of the booths and sit down. Rachel gets everyone’s drinks then heads to the bar to place our orders.

When she returns, she pulls up a chair at the end of the booth. “He’s not here!” she states exasperatedly and huffs. She lays her chin on her hand looking like a sullen child. I have no idea who she’s talking about, but everyone else seems to. They all look slightly crest fallen at the announcement. Then they all start talking at once. I hear a few phrases of “those tattoos”, “those intense eyes”, and “his body” being thrown around. I miss a lot of it though. I see a young guy approach the table; he has a very hipster vibe going for him. I don’t think this is whom they’re talking about. He sets our drinks down with a small smile and walks away.

“Who?” I ask, genuinely curious now.

“One of the bartenders. I don’t know his name, but oh my God is he hot!” Rachel explains. “I have been trying to chat him up for weeks. He always just acts so professional though. I don’t get it. I’ve been really forward.”

“Did you consider that he may not be interested, Rach?” Jose asks with a smile. Rachel’s mouth gapes open at the question, looking appalled at the suggestion, as she stare daggers at Jose.

“That’s ridiculous! Why wouldn’t he be interested? I’m cute, single, and more than willing to show him a good time.” She says quite loudly. Then looks at me “I know we just met and I promise I’m not a slut but I would be for that man.” She lets out a giggle. She’s almost through with her cocktail now. Wow, that girl can throw back her drinks. I laugh; I really like her. “Hey, if he’s as good looking as you’re saying I probably wouldn’t blame you. I need to see this man,” I tell her, and I waggle my brows exaggeratedly. Bianca laughs at me.

“We’ll come back!” she assures me. This hot bartender never shows but we have a great time chatting and enjoying our drinks. I only have the one. I learn that Rach and Jose work together at a non-for profit, and that Miranda is a pre-school teacher and a bit younger than us. Everyone is so nice and welcoming. It had been such a long time since I had spent time with a group of people that weren’t Michael’s friends or family. After a couple hours, I say good-bye to everyone promising to see him or her at the next class. I can hardly believe it myself. I actually liked kickboxing and I’ve decided to keep going.

It’s late when I get home, I lost track of time. I don’t usually get home so late. Michael’s car is already in the drive way and the lights are on. I park and head inside. The living room light is on, but I am still in my gym clothes. I decide to head to the bedroom for a shower first, and don’t stop to greet him.

I walk into our bedroom and head for the bathroom. I turn on the shower and get the water to the right temperature. Scalding, obviously, there’s really no other way to take a shower. I walk back into the bedroom to grab some pajamas, but stop when I see my husband standing in the room staring at me. He’s in sleep pants and a t-shirt. His hair is ruffled in the back, like maybe he had been lying down on the ouch. He looks tired.

“Hey,” I say with a small smile. I don’t know what else to say. He’s giving me a weary look, and then takes me in from head to toes noticing my clothing. “Where have you been?” he asks me.

“I tried a kickboxing class with B after work today” I explain to him as I walk to my dresser to grab my pajamas. My back is to him so I don’t see his reaction to this information but he is silent for several moments.

“Kickboxing? Since when do you go to kickboxing? When did this class start? You’ve gotten home rather late,” he rapid fires these questions at me. His tone suggests he’s confused by the fact that I would go to a gym. I don’t blame him; it is out of character for me.

“It was my first class. Bianca has been going for a while, and I finally decided to give it a try. She introduced me to her friends from class and they invited us out to drinks afterwards. We went to a bar a few blocks from the gym. I lost track of time. I was having so much fun chatting. I only had one cocktail and then came home,” I say all this as I walk back to the bathroom, not looking his way. I don’t see why he’s so curious. He usually doesn’t ask me this much about my day. Of course usually I’d have been home waiting for him. Is that what it is? I wasn’t home when he got here and that bothers him? Surely not. He comes and goes as he pleases. So can I.

“I texted you earlier and you didn’t answer,” he tells me as I go to shut the door. This surprises me. I guess I never looked at my phone.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I never looked at my phone. I assumed you were busy at work. I’m going to shower and then head to bed. Kickboxing was intense, I think I’m going to really feel it in the morning” I tell him through the crack in the door. He nods as I shut the door. I undress and step under the water and think over the conversation we just had. I should go out there and remind him how much I love him. I should make sure he ate dinner. I should… wait, why is it me always taking these steps?

He’s been so distant and I’m tired of trying so hard. I want my husband so badly. However, I also don’t want to be rejected, which happens more often than not these days. I still don’t know who that woman was at the café. I’m afraid to find out, just thinking of it makes my heart hurt. I decide for tonight to put it out of my mind. I take a long hot shower, thinking of how to talk these things over with Michael. I ultimately decide I can worry about all of this after some sleep.