At my question, a smile broke out on her face, and I couldn't help but return it. Her enthusiasm was beautiful, and I loved how excited she was about this. Most of the women only wanted to flirt and be seen, not here to learn anything. Loren wanted to be good at this for whatever reason. And seeing her learn something and enjoy it, gave me a sense of accomplishment I'd been missing.
"Okay, do you remember how I showed you?"
"I think so," she stated, biting her lip. Trying to ignore the way her lip looked between her teeth, I held the gloves up again for her to kick. She hesitated, then began to kick with her left leg. After she got a rhythm, she started to do better, and I gradually raised the glove higher. It became more difficult for her with each height, and I could see the frustration on her face because of it.
A sick part of me enjoyed frustrating her despite the fact she was doing well, and I pushed her to try heights most people couldn't do. When she kicked and almost fell over from the attempt, I dropped my hands, knowing I'd hit the limit for today.
"Nicely done. I'm impressed. Now, swap legs."
We went through the same routine, and Loren was able to get her leg up a little higher on this side until she made the same mistake and almost fell over. Dropping my hands, I removed the mitts and crossed my arms, studying her.
Loren was breathing heavily, sweat thick on her skin and her face red from the exertion. The smile, though, was genuine, and I realized it was the first real emotion I'd seen on her face outside her sad eyes. She hid behind a mask so often, you'd never know, but her eyes didn't lie. Not to me, at least. Most people avoided eye contact or didn't look deep enough to see what a person was feeling. I recognized her eyes, though. I saw the pain, the fear, and the grief bottled there.
This smile she shared with me felt intimate because I was part of the reason she was smiling. My heartbeat sped up at the thought of seeing someone happy because of me for once. I hadn't felt that in a long while. Dropping my wall back into place, I realized how easily I let it go when she was around. Her ability to disarm was a risk I couldn't take.
"Good workout today. Do your cool down, and then you're dismissed."
I hated to do it, but I couldn't be around her anymore. Turning quickly, I caught the way her face fell at my words, at my dismissal. I walked away in a hurry despite the pain crying out to slow the hell down. Pushing open the doors to the locker room, I managed to make it over to the shower stall before I fell to my knees, the air panting out of me in spurts from the pain and panic.
I heard a door open and close behind me, and I prayed it wasn't her. I couldn't face her, not right now. She would see my pain clearly. My fear broadcasted for all to see. But mostly, she would see me, the real me. I couldn't let her do that. I wouldn't.
The footsteps approached, and by the weight of them, I knew it wasn't Loren. Relief flooded through me, and my panic started to dissipate at the knowledge. Gathering myself, I stood and faced the incomer, hoping it was a stranger. Of course, I wasn't that lucky.
"Why are you such an ass to her?"
Monroe sounded pissed, and as I took him in, I knew he was. He stood with his arms crossed, foot tapping, and red creeping up his neck. Monroe hated confrontation, a funny thing for a lawyer, but he did. His blonde hair and fair complexion did him no favors when he was upset, and his neck and ears would flame bright red.
"Because I am an ass, Roe."
Shoving past him, I headed back to my locker. Monroe had other ideas as he grabbed me by the arm and spun me around. My ribs cried out in pain at the motion. Monroe noticed my wince and let go but stayed close enough our chests touched, allowing me to feel each breath he took.
"Wells, you don't have to keep doing this. Stop punishing yourself. If you keep pushing everyone away, you're eventually going to be alone."
"Maybe that's what I want," I seethed, the vitriol heavy in my throat. Why couldn't he just leave me alone?
"Bullshit."
Pushing his chest, I was tired of him constantly reminding me how much better of a person he was than me. "Just stop, okay? You're duty to make sure I don't die or whatever it is you're holding onto, it's completed. You're free. I release you of your servitude."
"You're such a fucking idiot, and if you weren't already hurt, I'd kick your ass myself."
"Like you could." I laughed, the coldness leaking from my voice making it hard as it echoed around the silent locker room.
Taking a step, he eliminated the space between us, making us practically nose to nose. Monroe got as close as possible to me and shoved a finger into my chest. "You don't get to be the only one hurting. You don't own it. So how about you quit telling me what I can and can't do and just fucking listen to what I'm saying for once?"
Monroe's breath fanned over my face, his finger still held on my chest, his cotton and waterfall scent engulfing me, and I couldn't handle it. Slapping his arm away, I stepped back out of his stratosphere where I couldn't feel or smell him enveloping me in his Monroeness. Everything felt safe and manageable in the bubble of him and me, but the moment I stepped out of it, the world crashed back in. It was a deception I couldn't afford.
"That day Brittni walked in, it was one of the best days of my life," he mumbled, some of his fight leaving him.
"How is ruining everything you built the best day?"
"Because it finally gave me a reason to leave the lying bitch who only wanted me for status. Because I finally heard the words I'd wanted to hear since I was sixteen. Because it was the first time in years, I heard someone say they loved me. Because for a moment," he paused, holding me to his every word, "everything in my life was perfect. Because you and me, we've always made sense. Because whether you deserve it or not, I've loved you since I was a teenager, and that's not stopping just because you want to push me away."
Monroe looked downtrodden by the end, a tear struggling to escape his eyelashes. Everything in me begged to comfort him, and as I started to reach for him, he turned to leave. Dropping my hand, my head fell forward, shame coating me at his departure. What was I doing? Was it even the right thing anymore?
When Monroe reached the door, his footsteps halted, and I looked up, hoping he'd changed his mind and was heading back here. But instead, I found him paused at the door, his hand propped on the wall, almost as if he stopped himself from leaving. Staring straight ahead, no eye contact, just a voice in the room, Monroe left me with one more thing.
"I saw the way you both looked at each other earlier. I know you're doing the same thing to her as me. If you can only let one of us in, she's the real deal. Just don't push everyone away because you're scared. We're all adults here. Let us choose how we feel about things before you decide for us. You know where to find me when you stop punishing yourself."
Closing my eyes, I squeezed them shut tight, trying to hold in the emotions brimming there. I didn't deserve to feel pain or loss. I was a worthless human being, and it would be better for everyone if I left them alone. The memory of my fall from grace flitted in, reminding me how inept I was for anything good.
"Wells, my man! I've got the deal of the century for you. It's pure gold, man! We're going to make millions. Get all your clients on the phone today. They aren't going to want to sit on this one. It's a done deal."
Digging my nails into the skin on my arms, I squeezed until I could breathe again, pushing the memory away. Blood ran down in tiny streams on my arms, dripping onto the floor as I watched it. It wasn't healthy to suppress my emotions this way, but when you've been doing something for so long, it becomes a part of you regardless of whether you like it or not. I couldn't think about that time. If I allowed myself to recall one memory, they would all flood me, and I'd never make it off the floor.
Grabbing my bag, I left the gym, ignoring everyone as I went. I was still too sore for my bike, so I wobbled as fast as I could to the train. As I sat and watched the city fly by, I thought of what Monroe had said. Part of me wanted to hope things could be better, that they would work out this time.
Unfortunately, the only thing I could always count on was me, and I was way too good at goodbyes for me to ever hope for more.