That seems almost as crazy as the plot to make a fool out of me.
Sighing to myself, I quickly put on my bathers, along with a pair of shorts and a hoodie jacket. Then I pad quietly into the kitchen and grab a banana and my training bag before I slip out into the cool morning air, heading for the local pool.
Swimming is my weakest triathlon leg. To help with my technique, I usually train with a squad. But arriving so early means I’ll miss them. I haven’t even checked if I can get into the swim centre at this time—something I wish I’d considered before driving here.
Thankfully, another squad is already training, and after a quick chat with their coach, I’m allowed to join the squad in the water.
For two hours, I drag myself through the water, up and down the pool, trying to clear the fog from my mind. But it won’t leave me.
I lied to David the night before. I have seen Christopher. He came to the hospital while I was recovering after his attack on me. I didn’t want to see him. I was so hurt, both physically and emotionally, that I just wanted him to go away and never darken my door again.
But he insisted on talking. And since I was in no position to run, I was forced to listen. He broke down and cried, begging me not to leave him. He swore he loved me, that he’d change if I’d just give him another chance. He admitted to being on some sort of steroid and blamed their side-effects for the aggression behind what happened.
Steroids. What possessed him to take those things?
Despite the drugs, I knew I could never forgive him or even consider taking him back. But after talking to him, after seeing his remorse, I promised not to press charges. That decision didn’t go down well with my dad, my brother or David. But it was what felt right to me. Christopher made a horrible mistake, and I’d suffered the consequences. But I didn’t have the heart to destroy him because of it.
After I was well enough to leave the hospital, I went with my dad to pick up my things from the apartment. Christopher did as I asked and stayed away, making the move as easy as possible. Getting out of there, I thought I was free. But after a couple of months, he started leaving notes or gifts on my car; he’d call to beg me to take him back. It freaked me out at first, made me wonder if I'd been wrong to drop the charges. I'd thought if he quit taking the drugs and got himself together, he could move on with his life, far away from me. But he couldn’t seem to move on.
In the end, I caved to his request and met him for coffee in a public place. It wasn’t because I still felt something for him; it was to say that I needed him to stop with the gifts and the begging. It was over for us. Thankfully, he listened, and now, he only calls occasionally to say he misses me, and he regrets scaring me away. I wish he didn’t call at all. I let it go to message bank every time.
I stop swimming and heave myself out of the pool, sitting on the side as I pull my swim cap and goggles off my head.
Every problem in my life stems from the men around me. No wonder I’ve sworn them off.
Six
Still on for tonight? David’s text lights up my display as I collect my bag for the gym.
After the altercation I had with Bianca on Wednesday, I figure going to the gym upstairs might help me avoid her altogether. It’ll also mean I skip seeing Elliot. Despite the fact we got along and I really enjoyed my run with him the other day, I think it’s best I keep my distance. I don’t need the extra drama in my life.
Of course, I type back. Where do you want to meet? We’re still undecided about which nightclub to patron. Some of our uni friends suggested Home or Marquee. But we don’t want to go anywhere that has a line.
Will meet you downstairs. We can grab food first. Don’t need you puking on me again
Struggle: Beautiful Series, book one Page 6
