Forgotten Sweethearts - Bestseller

Chapter Three

Cathy pulled me out of my thoughts as she waved the spoon in front of me. "Did you hear me?"

I hadn't heard a word she had spoken to me. "Sorry, I was thinking about dinner." A lie wouldn't hurt anybody.

"I said Dave had a new girlfriend. It's pretty serious." I could hear the disappointment in her voice.

Reaching over, I rubbed her hand gently. "Cath, he's not worth it. You'll meet someone new, just give it time. You'll find someone who treats you well."

"Like Brody?" She sighed heavily. "I'm sorry. I just swear you got lucky with that man. You won't ever have to know what it feels like to see him dating somebody younger." Her brown eyes glassing over as she began tearing up.

The almond croissant felt lodged in the back of my throat. The pit of my stomach was knotting up as I imagined him and Kate again. The idea of them kissing, or him touching her. Were they making love the way we used to? I was feeling sicker than ever. I couldn't fix my age. We were both only twenty-seven and getting older. Would he go for someone younger and something newer? Then the thoughts of myself came to mind, who would want me?

Just like that, I became determined to kick my arse into gear and lose the weight.

Shaking my head, I steered us away from this. "Let's talk about something else, something less depressing."

It worked. Her lips began curling into a bright smile I knew too well. "You'll never believe who got Botox again."

Walking past Priceline on my way back from getting Noah a new pair of shoes from Red Herrings, I slowly came to a stop. The conversation Cathy and I had been in still played in the back of my mind. I was always saying that I wanted to diet and get fit again. I had been so sporty growing up, wearing bikinis during summer, and enjoying myself. Now, I wouldn't be caught dead wearing one. I walked inside, picking up a black basket and making my way down to the health aisle. My cheeks burned with embarrassment as I held the black box of celebrity slim, extra shakes, and metabolism pills. I was going to do this. I wanted to do this.

Brody had brought me a treadmill years ago after constant complaining about being fat and horrible. He had walked in on me trying a pair of jeans on which weren't going up. I had used it no more than ten times. It's been collecting dust ever since. What a waste of money, just sitting there unused?

Not anymore, no more pasta, no more sugar, I had to cut out the bread dipped into sauces and stop the wine. No, I'd cut back on the wine. A woman needed a glass or two after dealing with fighting children and a moody husband each day.

When Brody came home tonight, I didn't get upset that he hadn't noticed my haircut. I hadn't expected him to, and I wasn't going to bring it up. It would just start another argument, and that was pointless. I was eager to hear what he had to say in regards to the earlier comment.

If he heard me crying, did that mean he felt bad? Or was he just going to tell me to hush it up?

Stripping naked, I weighed and took my measurements, writing them down and hiding the piece of paper away from prying eyes. This was for me. I was doing this for me; to get back into the right head space and feel better about my body and the way I looked. I wanted my old confidence back. Not to live in a shadow of what I had become.

Brody's favourite meal was homemade spaghetti with meatballs, and I made that for him tonight. What would I have to give to sit and devour a bowl of that? The smell was tempting me. The thought of drowning a piece of freshly made Turkish and olive bread into the bowl very much tempted me. Instead, I had a shake and left the kitchen to get the kid's bath ready.