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isloveworthdyingfor · 5 months

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The Gym Floor Fracture

(Esther Nicholette Sullivan) The frosty air bit at my cheeks as I killed the engine, the silence of the parking lot amplifying the erratic drumming of my heart. Multicolored holiday lights strung across the Alpha’s façade blinked in a mocking rhythm, reflections dancing on the windshield like specters of cheer I couldn’t feel. Each twinkle was a harsh reality of the emptiness gnawing at me—a contrast to the laughter and warmth that should’ve filled this season.

“Get it together, Nic,” I muttered to myself, the puff of my breath visible in the cold Jeep. The tension with James was like a weight, each day heavier, each misunderstood sigh between us stretching the distance further. And then there was Major S—his name a constant echo in my thoughts, a tantalizing whisper of ‘what ifs.’

I glanced at the dashboard clock. Fifteen minutes early. Major S had been cryptic in his text, just a simple “Come in before class” that sent both worry and anticipation coursing through me. My fingers trembled slightly as I replayed the possible scenarios. Was my membership up? Or did he want to talk about... us?

A flash of memory: our last conversation, his hand brushing mine as he handed me a dumbbell, the spark that ignited somewhere deep inside. This attraction to my trainer was dangerous territory, but denying its existence was like ignoring a lit fuse.

Alpha’s door loomed ahead as I gathered my gym bag and locked the Jeep behind me. The chilly night air slapped my senses, sobering my racing mind. The anxiety knotted tighter with each step toward the entrance, a coil ready to spring.

“Focus,” I coached myself, thinking back to the training sessions with Major S, how he’d push me beyond what I thought were my limits, his voice firm yet encouraging. There was strength in his presence, a solidity I found myself increasingly drawn to.

Pushing open the door, I braced for the usual evening buzz of activity, the clanging weights, and thumping music. But instead, silence greeted me, the only sound of my own footsteps echoing in the empty space. It felt surreal, Alpha devoid of life save for the festive decorations hanging limply from the walls.

“Major S?” I called out softly, my voice strangely loud in the stillness. A flicker of something crossed my chest—was it fear? Excitement? Both emotions tangled together, indistinguishable.

“Nic, over here.”

His voice sliced through the quiet, sending a fresh wave of adrenaline pulsing through my veins. I turned toward his office, barely illuminated by the soft glow of a desk lamp. He stood there, a silhouette framed by light, the familiar outline of his broad shoulders stirring an unexpected warmth within me despite the chill in the room.

“Hey,” I managed, stepping closer, acutely aware of how my pulse raced. His eyes, usually so full of humor, were severe, making my stomach flip.

“Thanks for coming early,” he said, and I nodded, unsure of what my face revealed.

“Is everything okay?” I asked, the question loaded with unspoken meaning. Our gazes locked, and for a moment, I lost myself in the depth of his eyes, dark and intense. They always seemed to see right through me.

The word hung in the air, heavy with implications. “Okay,” I replied, voice steady despite the turmoil inside. Whatever came next, I was ready. I was prepared to face the consequences and confront whatever feelings I’d been trying to bury. Because beneath the festive facade, beneath the strain with James and the pretense of normalcy, there burned a fire I couldn’t extinguish—a fire that, for better or worse, had Major S’s name written all over it.

“Nic, here, sit down.” Major S’s voice hummed with desolation as he motioned toward the lone chair. I complied immediately, my body instinctively responding to his command from countless hours of training together. The familiar leather grooves of the chair cradled me as I settled into it.

He zig-zagged the room, each stride echoing faintly in the enclosed space. Our shared memories swamped my mind - his warm grins during our grueling drills, his firm yet tender touch adjusting my stance, and that profound emotional bond that eclipsed simple mentorship.

“You okay?” I started questioning our ambiguous relationship, but he cut through my thoughts.

“No,” His voice cleaved through my daydream like a sharp knife. “We need to talk, and it’s going to sound weird.”

“Okay,” I replied tentatively. My heart hammered violently against its cage, bracing for an upcoming tempest.

He didn’t join me but stayed standing, maintaining a professional gap that did little to quell our palpable tension. The dimly lit room was oddly adorned with festive knick-knacks that seemed too merry for our serious discussion.

“Lilith is... stirring up trouble.” He looked away momentarily; his jaw muscles clenched visibly under the pressure of suppressed fury.

“In what way?” I nudged gently, eager to comprehend the conflict etched on his face.

“We’ll get there,” he reassured me while refocusing his gaze on mine. “Just understand this isn’t easy for me.” A brief smile brushed his lips before vanishing again; it was a mutual moment that spoke volumes without uttering a word.

As Gabe leaned in and rested his hands on his knees to meet my gaze at eye level, another jolt of electricity passed between us. This man was both my anchor and my downfall. I steeled myself for the revelation that would inevitably shift everything.

His hand extended towards me in a slow yet deliberate motion. It made contact with my shoulder, the warmth seeping through the thin fabric of my blouse. The touch was light but firm, grounding me in the reality of the moment. “Nic, I’m sorry,” he began, his voice imbued with a sense of urgency that caught me off guard. “Lilith is livid about our texts. She’s threatening to confront you if I don’t call it quits.”

His words felt like a cold shower extinguishing the flame that had sparked at his touch. The ghostly pressure of his hand lingered even after he pulled away, leaving behind a scorching imprint on my shoulder through my shirt fabric. I gulped hard, striving to regain my composure as Lilith’s threat loomed ominously over us. Yet Major S’s solid presence reassured me; it told a tale where fear didn’t govern us, where shared smiles weren’t eclipsed by jealousy.

“Our football banter?” My voice sounded surprisingly steady despite the inner chaos.

He nodded gravely, his face momentarily shadowed like an eclipse blotting out sunlight. When he looked up again, there was an unmistakable trace of regret in his eyes; it vanished just as quickly, leaving me longing for its fleeting presence.

“Nic,” he attempted to elaborate, but the clamor of my thoughts drowned out his voice. I blinked back to reality and compelled myself to focus on him - a pillar of strength yet visibly rattled under the strain.

“This is ridiculous.” My fingers twitched restlessly at my sides, yearning to reach out and bridge the gap that Lilith’s ultimatum had created between us.

“She thinks it’s… unprofessional,” Major S finally conceded through gritted teeth.

“Unprofessional?” I echoed incredulously. “Do you agree?”

He clenched his jaw tighter and looked away from me towards the deserted gym area. He was always so composed, but now, under harsh fluorescent lights, cracks appeared in his facade.

“Nic,” he started again, his voice wavering slightly. “It’s not about what I think. It’s about... Lilith’s perception.”

I rose from my seat, my legs trembling beneath me as I prepared to face the music. The cheerful holiday decorations outside mock our situation with their twinkling lights.

I nodded in understanding and turned away from him, leaving behind the promise of something beautiful yet forbidden. I walked out of the office and towards my Jeep, waiting for my friends to arrive before class started, the image of Major S’s outstretched hand etched into my mind.

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