A Story To Tell | Book 2

.25.

:::TERENY:::

I don't really get to hear from Jeremy much unless it was client to trainer. So it was odd when he hit me up on my way home from work, telling me that he needed to see me. He let me know that he was at the gym, so I went on home and changed into some gym clothes and let Bruce know that I was going to workout with Jeremy.

For whatever reason, Bruce wasn't in the mood to talk with me. I knew for sure that I hadn't done anything to him. I tried to talk with him about what was bothering him, but he didn't quite want to talk about it. He made up some excuse about how he needed to go across town to his parents' house to pick something up for Britney and he just grabbed Britney and kissed me goodbye and left. As much as I wanted to sit at home and talk to my husband about what was bothering him, I wasn't going to pressure him into talking to me when he didn't want to. I kind of already had a clue of what was bothering him and I'm sure it was Keira.

I did make a mental note to talk with him later tonight to get some understanding because I wasn't going to bed without knowing what was going on.

By the time I made it Bailey's, the parking lot was super empty, but it didn't bother me none. I hated working out when there was a whole bunch of people inside. I found the inside of the gym easier to bare when it was just a sprinkle of people and most of everybody in there was white.

I didn't see Jeremy anywhere in sight, so I walked over by the lockers to see if he was in the ab room, practicing his strengths or something. And my guess was right. He was doing push-ups— the kind of push-ups that I called "Nigga Please" push-ups because there's no way in hell I would ever be able to push myself all the way up just to clap my hands and make it in time to land back onto the palms of my hands to dip. I tried before and damn near cracked my jaw. Nigga please...never again.

I was more of a yoga person who enjoyed listening to the rain on my phone and standing on one foot, focusing on my ability to keep my balance up. That's what excited me most of all when it came to working out. Yoga and meditation. My two favorites. You can never go wrong with yoga and meditation. Jeremy hated yoga, but still found time to let me practice it. He left meditation up to me, though. He was more of a hardcore cardio and strength kind of trainer. My goal was to become a pro at yoga and meditation and study it to join Jeremy in his training journey. That way, his clients can get a two in one special and we could both earn money together doing what we enjoyed doing more than anything.

As I walked into the ab room, Jeremy looked at me in mid-dip and then back down, focusing on what he had to do. I dropped down onto the floor against the wooden wall and started to stretch a bit while he finished his Nigga Please push-ups.

"How're you?" I asked him.

"I'm good." He answered in between breaths. "You?"

"Getting there."

We grew silent for a moment.

He finished his push-ups and walked over to me where I was stretching and plopped down beside me, popping the top on his squirt bottle and squeezed out what I assumed was water. I bet it was room temperature water, too. Jeremy hated to drink cold water while exercising. He said if you drunk ice cold water while working out, it would make you cramp up or something. I don't remember. But it wouldn't hurt to let the water be a little cold.

"So, what's up?" I asked him.

"It's Cheri, man." Jeremy said to me as he closed the top on his bottle. "It's like, I can't win for losing with her." He shook his head. "Today, she asked me to watch the kids, so I agreed to it. Next thing I know, she comes back and hollers about she has a job." I looked at him as if he'd lost his mind.