Cheater
His Next Two Weeks
"I think you need to take the day off."
Patrice brushed away a fresh bead of sweat at his brow while continuing to pedal furiously at the stationary bike. He had just arrived at the gym and he had no intention of leaving one second sooner than the meticulous workout he had planned. He knew it, his friend and teammate knew it.
"Thank you for your support," Patrice said with heavy breathe through his concentrated, rapid pedaling.
A few more words were exchanged before Mark finally gave up and walked away, leaving the facility empty, save the heart broken maniac who had spent each of the last two weeks filling any moment he could with the most distracting but familiar activities possible. It was the only way he could get through every day and deal with the crushing hatred and despair that filled his soul.
He called her three times, leaving two long messages, and one brief although equally heartfelt message. He sent her flowers. He left at least two letters that constituted the most writing he had done in his entire life.
He wondered what she was doing every moment of the day. He had left the ring on the floor in the place she had thrown it at him. He wondered if it was still there. He wondered if it was on her hand.
He pedaled with more fury, his shoulders and head collapsing in an attempt to fight back tears as his muscles burned and his blood pumped through his veins like glass, with hatred for himself and his mistake. He quit pedaling and allowed his head to collapse into his arms and sob with greater force than any workout he'd ever put himself though.
Patrice brushed away a fresh bead of sweat at his brow while continuing to pedal furiously at the stationary bike. He had just arrived at the gym and he had no intention of leaving one second sooner than the meticulous workout he had planned. He knew it, his friend and teammate knew it.
"Thank you for your support," Patrice said with heavy breathe through his concentrated, rapid pedaling.
A few more words were exchanged before Mark finally gave up and walked away, leaving the facility empty, save the heart broken maniac who had spent each of the last two weeks filling any moment he could with the most distracting but familiar activities possible. It was the only way he could get through every day and deal with the crushing hatred and despair that filled his soul.
He called her three times, leaving two long messages, and one brief although equally heartfelt message. He sent her flowers. He left at least two letters that constituted the most writing he had done in his entire life.
He wondered what she was doing every moment of the day. He had left the ring on the floor in the place she had thrown it at him. He wondered if it was still there. He wondered if it was on her hand.
He pedaled with more fury, his shoulders and head collapsing in an attempt to fight back tears as his muscles burned and his blood pumped through his veins like glass, with hatred for himself and his mistake. He quit pedaling and allowed his head to collapse into his arms and sob with greater force than any workout he'd ever put himself though.