Chapter 3

It’s a typical Monday morning as I walk through the reception. The gym is already buzzing. The treadmills are all taken, and the free weights area is full. Men and women are spotting for each other, keeping their partner safe. The staff are attentive, making sure no accidents or injuries occur. I love my job, which I’ve had for ten years, but I can’t grow in the company. When a recent opening for a regional manager position came up, Munro called me, offering me first dibs, but that would involve hours behind the wheel of a car and too many hotels. Not my bag at all. I’ve always loved exercising and training others to reach their goal, but I don’t even get to do that anymore, not from behind my desk. I’ve been getting itchy feet, the desire for a new challenge growing, but what and where?

Ever since I went to Merrick’s new place and saw how he’s changed and how much lighter he seems, I’ve felt the need to find something more for me. I’m missing something, or is it someone? The memory of the greatest night I’ve ever had floods my brain. And with it comes regret for not getting his name, for leaving without saying goodbye.

I need to get away and figure out what I can do to find happiness again. Something I have lost lately, especially here in London. Am I brave enough to leave? To move on to somewhere new and start over? Only one way to find out. Do it.

I did it. I’ve worked my notice, using my outstanding holiday entitlement to cut it down to only two weeks. I’ve been so lucky Munro Sylvester trusted me with his second gymnasium. While he isn’t happy to lose me, he, of all people, understands why, understands it’s time for something new.

I was putting my loneliness down to Merrick leaving, but I missed the chance of something good with the hot stranger. I truly felt a deep connection with him. And since then, I’m more alone than ever. I can’t blame Merrick, and I’m thrilled he found his place in a cute little seaside town for himself and his daughter, Willow. The wide bay of pale yellow sand and the sea that can bring in some crashing waves is a total contrast to the view out of my office window. The black, now sticky from the heat, tarmac of the car park is barely visible due to the cars filling the spaces. A few people are picnicking on the sun-bleached grass, some under the shade of the trees. This is the hottest summer we’ve had for years, and London suffocates under the rank smell of exhaust fumes. The tube lines are no better. The recycled air is stifling with the scent of hundreds of sweating bodies, mingling with excess deodorants some use to mask their odour.

I’ve had enough of it, of London. And that’s something I never thought I’d say. I grew up in a little Scottish town where everyone knew each other and their business. I couldn’t get out of the place quick enough. When I headed off to uni, I knew I wouldn’t go back. London had me in its claws, the sights and sounds drawing me in deeper and deeper. I made new friends, got a great job, and have all I ever wished for. I even bought my own little house, my little bit of heaven, a place where I found my peace and which I thought I’d never leave. But now? Now it’s like I can’t breathe in there anymore. It’s smothering me.

I pick up my phone and call my best friend. He’s at a turning point in his life and taking a risk on another man. Starting all over again. I envy him. Not the pain and grief, of course. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, but the chance to up sticks and move a couple of hundred miles away? Yeah, I get that.

Merrick is thrilled to have me come down. He must’ve picked up on my melancholy, but thank god he doesn’t push for more. I’ll explain when I get down. After that, I call the chic little boutique hotel I stayed at when I attended Josh’s remembrance night.

As it’s nearing the end of September and the crowds have died down, the owners are happy to let me have a leaving date left open.

As I load my case into the boot of my car, the sun is shining. I take it as a good omen, and without looking back at my little blue house, I drive away. It’ll take me about four and a half hours to get to Calston Cove, maybe longer if I take the scenic route and use the A303, past Stonehenge to Exeter. But I don’t mind. I have a new audiobook to listen to, a murder mystery from one of my favourite authors.

As I enter Calston Cove, it’s quiet, although people are still sitting outside, enjoying the Indian summer. I assume they are mostly local. I’ll walk into town later, grab dinner, and let my constantly buzzing brain slow down. I pull into the small car park at the hotel and switch off the engine. The house is a large red brick Victorian and my home for at least the remainder of the week, but probably a little longer. Maybe. I’ll see what happens.

My room is large and comfortable, with a view of the beautiful beach, which is almost empty now. The mass of sun and sea worshipers have disappeared until next year. The urge to feel the sand under my feet is strong, to feel the real world, not the concrete and asphalt world I’m used to. I’m out of the hotel in no time and take a left towards the beach. I scan the beach for Merrick and Willow, but of course there’s no sign of them. That would be too much of a coincidence. I’ve not even told him I was coming.

I stroll lazily along the shoreline with my Vans in my hand, my bare feet sinking into the sand as the cold, shallow waves roll over them. Peace settles over me until my stomach rumbles loudly, reminding me I need something to eat.

The pub is getting busy with early-door customers, people meeting up straight after work for a drink and some downtime with friends. I grab a pint and a menu and find an empty space in a corner of the large room. After deciding on a steak and ale pie, I order and enjoy people-watching. The patrons give me some curious glances in return. Have they seen me with Merrick in the summer, and are they trying to place me? They’ll know soon enough, especially if I choose to hang around.

The walk back to the hotel takes only five minutes. I bypass the bar and go straight up to my room. Tiredness washes over me. The drive and then the sea air have worn me out.

After a quick shower, I’m in bed at the earliest I’ve been for many years. It’s not until I pick up my phone to set my alarm that it hits me. I don’t need it anymore. I’ve given up everything I’ve worked for, lived for, and breathed for since I was fourteen. Fitness has been everything to me, and I don’t know what to do now. Who am I? What will I become? Have I done the right thing? Uprooting my life because of a hook-up, my first male lover? A perfect man who turned my world upside down, and I snuck out, too chicken shit to own it. Instead, I chose to move on, to leave and explore myself. Munro offered me a sabbatical, a year off. He told me there will always be a position for me at Well Fit.