CHAPTER THREE

CASSIE

"Well that wasn't so bad," I mused as we left the gym and got back in the car. "He was really nice and knowledgeable with his suggestions." 

Easy on the eyes too. 

My heart skipped a little beat every time Rylan's steel-grey eyes caught mine. I was trying to convince myself he wasn't checking me out, why would he? He was a tall, dark-haired, musclebound hunk surrounded by fit, beautiful bodies at the gym all day. 

But I had to admit no other man looked at me the way he did in what felt like years. Not even the disgruntled one getting into the car with me. 

"I dunno about that guy," he grumbled as we pulled away. "Too much of a meathead." 

"What do you mean?" I demanded. "He's a trainer. He's supposed to be in good shape." 

"Not that. I just didn't like his attitude. Seemed like too much of a douchebag."

"In what way?" I asked, dumbfounded. Were we even talking about the same person? "He was really friendly and polite." And hot. "I'm actually looking forward to starting this workout program with him."

"Not me," Mark muttered. "I dunno. It's just the vibe I get from him." 

"So what, are you going to try a different trainer?" I asked. "The girl at the front desk said he was their best one." 

"I dunno, maybe." 

 Mark was clearly in one of his moods so I stopped talking for the rest of the drive home. Sometimes he just got crabby and pessimistic for no reason and it was frustrating. 

It didn't matter who he was talking to. He didn't believe in putting on a happy face for strangers, me, or anyone as we could see from the gym. That comment about Rylan's name was simply rude although Rylan had a good comeback for it. 

I smiled to myself at the memory. Rarely did anyone knock Mark down a peg but Rylan did it without flinching. I shouldn't have been rooting for the other guy but Mark deserved it sometimes. He always called me too sensitive or claimed to be joking if I called him out on it. 

He also hated to be proved wrong. I could feel him seething next to me after he made that she-hulk comment and Rylan set him straight.

He just had to compete against every other male he came into contact with for some reason. That ego or whatever it was of his was frustrating. 

But I did love him despite all that. 

We made it home just before I had to leave again to get lunch with Beth, my best friend. 

"I'll be back soon, babe," I said as I ran a quick brush through my hair and reapplied some lip balm. 

Mark had already turned the TV on to ESPN and was rummaging in the fridge for soda and snacks. 

I kissed his cheek and he surprised me by taking hold of my arm.

"Hey babe just an idea," he said. "Since you're getting started with that trainer this week, make sure you eat something healthy at lunch. Like a salad."

I blinked, standing stunned and looking at him. 

"Huh, okay," I said in a sarcastic tone.

 When I got into the car I still felt dazed. Was I imagining things or did he really just say that? 

He said that. He had the balls to say it to your face. 

And was he actually trying to be helpful or did he say that to be insulting? 

My mind continued to race over it as I drove to the restaurant. At this point, I didn't know what to feel anymore.

Beth could tell I was upset from the moment she saw me. Her exuberant smile quickly morphed into a frown as I approached her in the restaurant's waiting area.

"Babe, what's wrong?" she demanded. "What did that jerk say to you this time?"

She had never been a fan of Mark. In the early days, I often found myself defending him and bringing up his good traits. But those seemed to be few and far between lately. 

"Can we sit and get drinks first?" I muttered. "I do not want to feel sober right now." 

We settled into our favorite little corner booth in the cafe with a pair of mimosas and I let out everything that had been sitting on my chest in the past few weeks. 

The lack of sex. The comments about my weight and eating habits. The constant excuses to meet some arbitrary goal before planning our wedding. And most recently, our consultation with Rylan at the gym.

"The thing is," I said, downing my second mimosa. "I actually got excited when we talked to the trainer and not just because he was hot. He was very knowledgeable and positive, not crazy and mean like a Jillian Michaels type. I could actually be motivated when working with him. But as soon as I act like I might enjoy this, Mark is suddenly Mr. Negative and wishy-washy! I'm like, this was your idea in the first place, jerk." 

Beth listened to me rant without a word, just quietly sipping her drink and nibbling bruschetta until I finally ran out of steam. 

"I'm going to ask you something and I want you to think hard about the answer," she said finally. "Do you even want to marry him anymore?"

"Yes," I said automatically. 

Beth shot me her signature oh, really look.

"Why?"

"Because we've been together for five years," I said. "We live together. Our whole lives are intertwined. Things were so good for so long, there's got to be a chance they can go back to that, right?"

"Here's something my therapist told me," Beth said, wiping her mouth delicately. "He's saying this shit to you and treating you this way because you're allowing him to do it."

"That's not true," I said weakly. "I mean he is stressed with work and we've kind of gotten into a rut but I don't think he's trying to hurt me."

"Can you imagine yourself talking to him like that, making those comments about his waistline?" Beth asked, pointing her fork at me. "I mean you look the same as ten years ago but he's definitely put on the poundage."

"No," I said quietly, looking down at my plate. "No, I could never imagine saying the things he says back to him." 

Beth shot me a look of sympathy this time.

"Time to not let the bullshit slide, amiga," she said. "Demand better for yourself because you deserve it."

She was right. Beth didn't pull any punches and made me uncomfortable with her points sometimes but she was looking out for me and I was glad to have a friend like her.

If nothing else, she gave me a lot to think about.