Chapter 18

Harper

The clank of weights and the rhythmic hum of treadmills had always been the soundtrack to my days, but today, they sounded like the tolling of a bell, announcing the end of an era. It was an ordinary Tuesday when Brandon, with a somber face, gathered us at the gym—me, and a few others who had become more family than co-workers and clients.

"Everyone, I have some news," Brandon started, his voice unusually shaky. The room went silent, all ears on him. "Chelsea and I have decided it's time for us to retire. We won't be renewing the lease for the gym at the end of the year." The words hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the usual upbeat atmosphere.

A rush of thoughts overwhelmed me. This gym wasn't just my workplace; it was my second home, a place where I had built my life, forged lifelong connections. The thought of it disappearing felt like losing a part of myself.

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath, pinching the bridge of my nose. The room filled with murmurs of shock and disappointment.

Brandon continued, explaining the decision. "With the town's revitalization plans, the rent is skyrocketing, and it just doesn't make financial sense for us anymore. Plus, we've always dreamed of traveling the world while we still can."

Chelsea added, her eyes misty. "This place was our dream for so long, but we feel it's time to pursue other adventures."

I nodded, trying to mask my panic. Everyone else began to express their well-wishes to Brandon and Chelsea, but I felt rooted to the spot, my mind racing. Could I take over? The cost, the risk—it was monumental. The idea of opening my own place flashed through my mind, a spark of possibility amid the uncertainty.

After the meeting, I lingered behind, needing to hear more about their decision. "Brandon, Chelsea, is there really no way to keep the gym open?" I asked.

Brandon sighed, his expression sympathetic. "We wish there was. The Financial burden would just be too much at this point."

Chelsea touched my arm gently. "But Harper, you have what it takes. You've got the passion and clients adore you. Maybe it's time for you to step into a new role."

The rest of the day passed in a blur. I went through my training sessions mechanically, each rep and set a countdown to an uncertain future. By the time Sarah walked into the gym, I was a bundle of nerves, the weight of the news pressing down on me.

"Hey, what's going on?" Sarah asked the moment she saw me.

I sighed, leading her to a quiet corner. "The gym is closing. Brandon and Chelsea are retiring. This place, it's... it's all I know," I confessed, my voice thick with emotion.

Sarah's face fell, her usual cheer dimming as she took in my distress. "Oh no, Harper! I'm so sorry! But you, if anyone, can figure this out. What about starting your own place? Or mobile training?"

"I've thought about it," I admitted, pacing slightly. "But it's a huge step. What if my clients don't follow? What if I fail?"

Sarah grabbed my hands, stopping my pacing. "But what if you succeed? You're not alone in this, you know. I bet your clients will follow you anywhere. They trust you."

Her words, sincere and encouraging, helped ease the knot in my stomach. "You really think so?"

"I know so," she affirmed with a nod. "Let's sit down tonight, make a plan. Look at the numbers, figure out the logistics. Everything is going to work out. You'll see."

The rest of the evening was spent in animated discussion. We talked over dinner, scribbling notes and ideas, the seeds of a new beginning taking root. The prospect of starting fresh, terrifying as it was, began to take on a shade of excitement. We debated potential locations and envisioned the layout of a new gym. Sarah's belief in me was a clearing in the clutter of my worries. Each time I faltered, questioning the feasibility of such a bold move, Sarah would counter with practical suggestions and an infectious optimism that made me believe in the possibilities. We sat at the table long after the food had gone cold, planning a future that seemed brighter and more tangible with every passing moment.