* * *
AFTER ALMOST TWO hours in the car, Claire and I stepped out in front of the Meadows of Venus Resort and Spa. Beyond the pristine brick facade of the building, sunlight glittered off the ripples in the lake, and I inhaled the clean air.
While Claire checked us in at the front desk, I pulled my phone from my pocket, hoping for a message from Wes. Even though things were awkward, not seeing him felt worse, so I figured I’d bite the bullet and pretend it never happened, and maybe we’d get back to normal. I’d done that with Ben, and we just stopped talking. I hoped this would work out better.
Britta: We made it. I will never get tired of how fresh air smells.
Wes: How does it smell?
Britta: Fresh.
Wes: You should research adjectives. Did you pack your running shoes?
Britta: Yeah, I’m going before dinner tonight. I’m not used to running without you barking at me.
Wes: You might grow to like it.
I doubt it. I tucked my phone back in my pocket and felt guilty about lying to him about my role with Best Life. Maybe it was best that nothing romantic would happen—I needed the writing job to move forward with my career, and I was probably already too close to my coach, even without the kiss. That kiss. The feel of his hands on me. The promise of more when he pressed his body to mine.
“We’re all checked in,” Claire said, handing me my key and interrupting my thoughts.
“Thanks.” We walked toward the elevator, and Claire pulled two manila folders from her oversize bag. “We can take advantage of the treatments, and there’s just a few things we’ll do together, including floating meditation.”
“Floating meditation?”
“I guess they give us wine and we float on rafts in this cordoned-off part of the lake.”
“Like a lazy river? Did you do that in college? Grab a cooler of beer and an inner tube?”
Ours eyes met, and her face cracked into a smile. “A very expensive lazy river, I guess. Natalie requested we write about it. I guess it’s one of their selling points.” We shared a chuckle as the elevator doors closed.
* * *
I HAD A spacious room with a view of the lake from the balcony. The sky became a deep azure as the afternoon wore on. I lost the battle to be cool and turned to snap a selfie, angling the camera from above my head to catch my face surrounded by sunlight and nature. I looked pretty in the photo, not that it mattered.
Britta: I still don’t have a good adjective for how it smells, but isn’t this view amazing? Do you wish you were here?
I didn’t expect the bouncing dots of his reply so quickly.
Wes: More than you know.
Britta: Do you have fun plans for the weekend?
Britta: Hot date?
I hit send before my thumb wandered to the backspace key. He wasn’t responding, but I braced myself anyway. Worst-case scenario: He’s on his way to her place now with a bottle of wine, a box of condoms, and an engagement ring. Wes was my friend and my trainer, and kissing me didn’t seem to have meant anything. Maybe he did that with women all the time, and he could take wine, condoms, and rings to all kinds of other women. Still, I hoped he was at home in sweats, alone.
Wes: No date.
Wes: [audio file]
I hit play on the voice recording, and Wes’s voice filled my room.
“Pick up the pace.”
“Eyes forward.”
“You’re doing great.”
“One more mile.”
“I know you can do it.”
“Push.”
“I believe in you.”
I listened to it twice, my smile widening with each phrase, and pictured his expression when he was waiting for me to laugh at his joke.
Wes: So you won’t miss me barking at you on your run.
I listened to it one more time, shaking my head and dropping into the chair on my balcony. I scrolled to the latest comments on my Falling and Failing post. I’d been amazed at the initial response, and the comments kept coming.
@MaryJoMazing: Thank you for sharing this story. We do these things to ourselves, and for what? I’m so glad you came to your senses quickly, and I hope you’re healing.
@justhaley91: I read your story and didn’t realize I was crying. I’ve let so many men shape how I feel about myself and what I need to be. Making me think I’m not good enough. Thank you for telling us about your fall—and how you’re getting up. I’m trying to be like you, Britta!
@TheOriginalBL: I love how real you are. I feel like I know you and you get it.
@GrzzldJoeTC: I didn’t realize the damage I could be doing until I read the links you shared at the end of the post.