Page 28 of The Weight Of It All
I huffed, disappointed that she didn’t bite at anything I just said. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Without another word, we both stood up and put our rubbish in the bin. I held the door open for her, and we walked in stubborn silence to my office door. I waited for a moment, wondering if I should say anything that wouldn’t make myconvincing myselfany worse, but she spoke instead.
“Everyone who tried your lemon tart loved it, Henry. It was the perfect excuse for you to talk to the people you work with, and if you’d give them a chance, they’ll love you too.”
I stared at her. “Is that another compliment? Because we’ve just been through that.”
She walked to her desk. “You mispronounced thank you.”
Without responding, I pushed my office door open and went inside. I spent the next hour and fifty-five minutes going through the Kerual file, making notes and a report for my meeting. I was distracted though, with what Melinda had said. I’d avoided conversations with my co-workers for years because I didn’t want them to think I was an idiot, and if I were being honest with myself, I did enjoy the brief conversation I’d had at lunch time. And if everyone decided to cook something once in a while and bring it to work to share, that had to be a good thing, right? And the fact was, now that I lived alone, the interaction with people was nice. Even if it was awkward and I made a fool of myself, I felt better for it. So just before I left for my two-o’clock, I emailed Melinda.
Thank you.
Friday passedin a bit of blur. I had meetings, reports to do, and statistics to go over, and I was kept busy all day. I did notice the pretty red-haired girl that had spoken to me yesterday now smiled at me in the hall, and Lena and Kadinboth greeted me with a “Hi Henry” as I entered the break room at lunchtime.
I was a little sore in the shoulders and quads from my workout the morning before, but it was what I’d call a pleasant soreness. It wasn’t debilitating. It was just a gentle reminder that my body was changing, improving, and I liked that.
By the time I got home after work, going out for a drink with Anika was the last thing I felt like doing. Anika had texted me earlier to remind me, which was really a thinly veiled threat not to stand her up. So, like a good best friend, I dragged my arse into my closet and pulled out an outfit of dark jeans and a black sweater. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone out. Certainly not with Graham. I preferred to spend my weekends staying in, having dinner parties, or quiet nights with a good book and a glass of wine. And I grumbled as I got changed, until I pulled on my jeans.
And holy shit. Not only were they not tight, but they were even a little big around the waist! I could do the button up easily with room to spare, and they were even a little roomy around my arse and thighs.
I walked out to look in the full-length mirror, a slow spreading smile covering my face.
Oh my God.
I hadn’t noticed any change in my work pants. Well, they were a little loose, which I just fixed with a belt. I figured they were getting old or something. I didn’t even think that much about it, to be honest. But this, these jeans, was proof that my change in diet and new exercise regime were working.
I grabbed my phone and thumbed to the camera. I took a picture of my reflection, with one hand pulling on the waistband of my jeans showing the extra room that wasn’t there just three weeks ago. I quickly found Reed’s number, attached the photo, and typed out an excited message.
Holy Crap, look at this!
His reply was almost immediate.
Excellent! Well done. I knew you could do it!
I laughed at his reply.
I don’t think I’d smiled this much in weeks… Sorry to bother you on a Friday night. Just wanted to share my excitement.
It’s no bother at all. Actually, you just made my day. Good to know all that hard work has paid off.
Are you saying I’m hard work?
I grinned at my phone, waiting for his reply. But instead of a message, my phone rang in my hand. Reed’s name flashed on my screen, and I hit Answer, still smiling. There was no hello or anything. “Please tell me you were joking?”
“About me being hard work?”
“Yes!”
I laughed. “I was, yes. Though we both know I like to whinge a lot, and I complain about everything you make me do.”
He laughed. It was a relieved sound. “Well, true. But you do whatever I make you do, no matter how much you know it will hurt.”
“This is true. Never considered myself a masochist before. I’m actually rather enjoying the muscle soreness and twinges.”
“Oh?”
