Page 8 of Into the Shadows

This is his life; it's his passion, his job. I don't think he’d know who he is without it, so instead of telling him what I want to say, I respond with silly anecdotes about my life. All the dumb things I’ve been up to in college and beyond. I even tell him about Gia forcing me out tonight for my birthday.

I write about things that will help him escape from the sad direction his brain wants to go. I hope I give him a sense of joy and make him smile with every sentence. At the end of my ramblings, I attach the selfie I took tonight before we arrived at the bar. Call me conceited, but I look fantastic. If he can’t be here in person like I want him to be, at least he can have a visual to go with my story.

I’m well aware that pining for Teddy is a waste of time. I don't have any silly notions that he feels the same way. I'venever told him how I feel, and likely never will, which only makes emailing him harder sometimes.

But I'm never going to give him up. I’ll never stop reaching out because it’s the only connection I have to him. His emails are the only tether I have to the man I have come to believe is the love of my life.

Chapter 4

Teddy

Heavy guitar rifts play over the speakers while weights clank against each other.

My muscles scream at me as I push the bar up from my chest.

“Come on. Give me one more,” Kyle urges. He’s standing at my head, his arms held out to spot me.

“Fuck you, man,” I grunt. But I do one more rep anyway. My arms shake, protesting the movement. Kyle stretches out his hands, prepared to grab the bar. It’s all the motivation I need to get the weight back to its resting spot. With a clang, the bar hits the metal posts before dropping into the rests.

“Fuck yeah. That’s what I’m talking about,” Kyle cheers.

“Payback’s going to be a bitch.” I curl up from the bench, breathing hard from the exertion. I lift the hem of my T-shirt to wipe the sweat from my brow.

“If you screaming at me gets me to lift what you do, I’ll take it.”

I snort. “You’re an idiot.”

He shrugs before swapping out plates to do his reps. I swipe my water bottle off the floor and stand. Thegym on base isn’t too busy today. It makes it easier to complete my circuits without waiting for someone to be done with an apparatus.

These young guys like to show off and push themselves harder than is safe. They see me lifting weights heavier than theirs and try to turn it into a competition. Little do they know I lift because I need the outlet. I’m not doing this to bulk up or be a badass. Pushing my muscles past the breaking point is about the only thing that gets me to sleep anymore.

I spot Kyle during his turn, pushing him just as hard as he did me. He’s not far off from my bench weight. “You could go up if you wanna go for a PR,” I say when he finishes his set.

“Tomorrow. I’m tapped out.”

I nod and walk over to the treadmill.

“Are you sure you’re not a robot?” Kyle calls out from the doorway. His disgusted look at the treadmill makes me want to laugh.

I roll my eyes instead. The belt begins to move quickly, and I start at a decent jogging pace. This is the hardest part of my workouts but the most important. It’s the only thing that’ll wear me out enough to fall asleep instead of being awake half the night.

All the thoughts spiraling through my head dissipate as I run, and by the end, my body and mind are too exhausted to continue spinning.

There’s a new email from Lottie on my phone I’ve been dying to read since last night. It came in late, which made me wonder what she was doing. I thought replying at night would keep me from seeing anything new from her for a while. Instead, I got a response almost immediately. It took every bit of willpower I had to keep from opening it.

She’s been an addiction since the first moment I met her. I can’t understand why she’d still want to email me after all this time. I don’t give her much when I respond, and God knows Ido my best not to do it very often. I figured she’d have found some schmuck to give her all the things I can’t by now. She’s a gorgeous woman and has only gotten prettier as she’s gotten older.

I live for the emails when she adds a picture of herself. Usually, she shows me some adventure she went on with her friends. In every picture, she shines brighter than the sun. How she’s still interested in my grumpy ass, I’ll never know.

I’m also too selfish to ask her to stop. One day, when she finds a man who will worship the ground she walks on, she’ll give me up. It’ll probably be the shittiest day of my life, but you’ll never hear me say that to her.

“Kavanagh!”

I yank the emergency stop line, stepping off the treadmill and tensing my muscles to keep my knees from collapsing under me. My legs feel like wet noodles. “Commander Brettfield.” I stand at attention.

“At ease.”

I ignore the sweat sliding down my temple as my stance relaxes.

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