SIX

2.9K 199 44
                                    

Why can't men be like seahorses and be the ones to give birth? Huh? Why does it always have to be the woman? Because right now, my life would be so much simpler and way less humiliating if that was the case.

As if I wasn't humiliated enough in the last twenty four hours after the shower incident, I now find myself sitting across from Rhodes at his desk in his office.

Rhodes sits across from me, lazily reclined back in his desk chair, his hands threaded together and resting on his stomach. He observes me, a slightly amused glint is his eyes. I instinctively cross my arms tighter over my chest under his steely gaze, starting to feel small. I don't know how long we stare at each other, almost daring the other to make the first move, but eventually he sits up, slightly leaning in over his desk to talk to me.

"So, Claire, tell me, why did you sign up with a personal trainer in the first place?"

I scoff, rolling my eyes at his stupid question. "The same reason why everyone else does."

He frowns, reclining back in his chair again. "People have a dozen different reasons to sign up with a personal trainer. Some want to lose weight, some want to gain weight. Get leaner, get bulkier. Some do it to focus on a specific area..." He shrugs a broad shoulder. "There are numerous reasons why people sigh up with a personal trainer."

I scowl at him. "Well I obviously need to lose weight," I state.

His frown seems to deepen, his dark brows pinching together. "And why exactly do you need to lose weight?" I don't miss the hint of emphasis and mocking on the word need.

"Have you seen me?" I snap before quickly steeling myself over, shaking my head. "I need to fit into a wedding dress."

He nods, frown still in place as he sits back up and picks up a pen, jotting some things down on a piece of paper. "Alright, what size is the dress?"

"I don't know," I state, getting annoyed at this little interrogation going on.

His eyes dart up at me from the piece of paper. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"I mean I haven't bought the dress yet!" I snap.

Those dark, thick brows pinch together further. "Then how can you not fit into it?"

"Because I just can't!" I growl in frustration, swiping a hand down my face.

He continues to stare at me in confusion. "Why? There are tons of dresses that will fit you perfectly."

I shake my head. "Look, I just need to get back to the weight I was before."

"Before what, exactly?" he asks, making me blanch.

"Before... before nothing," I stutter, refusing to meet his gaze, feeling way more uncomfortable than I was a minute ago.

I hardly ever talk about the accident, wanting to keep it buried in the past, and I'm definitely not about to talk to him about it—not when I never had anyone to talk about it with in the first place. Eli became distant after the accident, along with my parents, so I never had anyone to talk to. But I guess maybe I didn't want to talk about it, anyway. And I'm sure as hell not going to start talking about it with Rhodes.

Some days the accident feels like a lifetime ago, and other days it feels like it was just yesterday. I've learned to push it aside, though, compartmentalize it, but the memories always loom over my head like a constant rain cloud, threatening to pour down at any moment and drown me.

Rhodes's face falls somber, and his voice is surprisingly soft, empathetic. "I can tell by your face it wasn't nothing."

"I–" I swallow past the lump in my throat, fighting off the flashbacks that threaten to strike through my head like lightning. "It doesn't matter," I mutter, shaking my head.

Bad RepWhere stories live. Discover now