I jolt awake, surrounded by darkness, the remnant of a scream still echoing in my head.

I sit upright, my heart slamming against my ribcage as I gulp in breaths, my body coated in a light sheen of sweat. I glance back at the clock to see that it's just past four in the morning.

Eli groans in annoyance, rolling over to face away from me.

Disoriented, I get out of bed and stumble to the bathroom, flicking on the light and bracing myself against the counter. I take a few more deep breaths before searching my pale, sweaty face in the mirror. I'm no stranger to nightmares ever since the accident, but it's been a while since one has affected me this bad.

Turning on the faucet, I splash my face with some cool water before patting it dry with a hand towel. I give myself a few more minutes to compose before sneaking out of the bedroom and into the kitchen where I turn on the coffee maker. While the coffee is brewing, I take a seat at the kitchen table, trying to recall fragments of my nightmare.

Before I even realize it, Eli's alarm clock is going off at five and I've been sitting at the kitchen table for nearly an hour, lost in my thoughts.

I listen as Eli crawls out of bed and starts the shower, the sheets rustling and the pipes whining. Twenty minutes later, he emerges in a tank top and gym shorts, ready to hit the gym. But not before making his protein shake, of course.

"You're up early," he comments, rummaging through the cabinets and the refrigerator for all the ingredients to make his over the top shake.

"Yeah... Nightmare," I confess.

He only hums in response before the loud grinding of the blender cuts through the air, dismissing the conversation even further.

Unsettled, I get up from the kitchen table to fill myself a cup of coffee, dancing around Eli standing between the counter and the island to reach the refrigerator and grab the creamer. I start to add a hefty splash when I feel Eli's eyes on me, assessing the amount of creamer I'm adding to my coffee judgmentally, making me cut the pour short. The coffee isn't nearly as light as I'd like it to be, but I reluctantly cap the creamer and put it back in the fridge, suddenly self-conscious. Has he always given me such judgmental looks without me noticing?

Feeling small, I grab my coffee mug and sit back down at the table, taking a tentative sip. Bitter. But I try not to let it show on my face.

Eli finishes up with his protein concoction, pouring it into a plastic blender bottle and screwing the cap on. He puts everything away and places the glass blender in the sink after giving it a quick rinse, unplugging its base from the wall. "So I'll pick you up after work today and we'll get you singed up at the gym?"

I set my coffee down, head jerking back in surprise. "Today?" I squawk.

He gives me an impatient look. "You're the one that said you wanted to get back to the gym."

"Yeah, but I meant something along the lines of—"

"Next week?" he finishes my sentence for me, voice patronizing. "That's what you always say and you never do."

If possible, I shrink even further, starting to imagine how Alice must have felt in Wonderland after drinking that potion—but in my case it's too bitter of coffee.

I guess Eli has a point. I've been pushing off the gym for a whole year now. Maybe I just need to stop relenting and put on my big girl pants and force myself to finally do something I don't want to do.

I take another sip of my coffee, the bitter liquid settling uncomfortably in my stomach. "Okay. I'll start today," I agree softly, reluctantly.

Eli straightens, his face still tense, but he looks more pleased than he did sixty seconds ago. "Alright. I'll pick you up after you get off work around four. That'll give you half an hour to get ready."

I numbly nod, cupping my mug with two hands, fighting the urge to find an excuse.

Without another word, Eli grabs his protein shake and tosses his gym bag over his shoulder, exiting through the garage door. The hum of the garage door rising is soon drowned out by the loud ruble of his engine, and as soon as he pulls out of the driveway and the garage door closes, I'm rushing to my closet, trying to decide what the hell to wear to the gym.

✨

The smell of sweat and a hint of cleaning products is pungent, making me wrinkle my nose as soon as I step inside. The gym is packed with the evening rush, everyone wanting to get their cardio in right after work to save them a trip home and back.

Eli ushers me up to the front counter to a man who's had his eyes honed in on us the second we walked in, looking like a shark ready for its next bite. "Hello, folks. Welcome," he says, voice packing a punch.

With lead feet I follow Eli up to the counter, as he's already striking up a conversation with the shark. The man is in his late forties, strong with a lean build. He has on a polo with the gym logo and some black pants that scream business too loudly for a gym setting. His eyes shift back and forth from me to Eli, underlying judgment shining through. Nonetheless, he keeps that easygoing businessman smile that can work anyone to his advantage firmly in place.

"Claire," he says, bringing me out of my thoughts. "Why don't we head to my office?"

I blanch, muscles stringing tight. I look to Eli for guidance, and all he does is usher me towards the shark's office with a wave of his hand.

I follow the shark—or as his nametag states; Jeremy—to his small office. Alone. He instructs me to take a seat in front of his desk, closing the door behind him, making this feel even more daunting. Thankfully, there's a large window that looks out into the gym, making me feel only a little bit more comfortable and less cagy.

We go over the different plans, look over some trainers, and once everything is settled the shark has me signing my life away to the commercial gym.

After all contracts are signed and the credit card is swiped, I'm reunited with Eli and introduced to my trainer Victoria. I try my best to keep my eyes from popping out of my head, trying—and failing miserably—to keep my gaze solely on her face instead of her massive baby bump.

"Hi, I'm Victoria," she announces, shaking my hand. Something on my face must give away my shock because she adds, "And this is baby, due in a couple of weeks." She rests a hand on her bump, and I'm relieved when she doesn't sound offended by my obvious gawking. And I'm extremely relieved when she doesn't ask when my nonexistent due date is. But then again, I'm wearing a pretty big T-shirt, helping me hide my pregnant looking stomach.

It was hell trying to decide on a gym outfit today. Usually, I would always throw on a sports bra and some shorts without a second thought, but that didn't cut it for today. There was no way in hell I was going out in public without trying to hide my stomach, so I decided on an oversized T-shirt and some bike shorts that I remember being a little less tight.

"Claire." I shake her hand, making sure not to squeeze too hard. It looks like if I even sneeze she's going to pop that baby right out.

Seriously, not judging—all the power to her—but I feel like she's about to go into labor any minute. One wrong squat from her and I'm going to have to become an untrained doula. I don't know how to be a doula! I can't even watch when they draw my blood, let alone witness childbirth without passing out.

"Welp, I better leave you ladies to it," Eli cuts in, making his exit and putting on his most charming smile for Victoria. "I'll pick you up in two hours. Bye, babe," he says, kissing the side of my head before leaving, surprising me. Eli hasn't shown me an ounce of PDA in forever, but then again, maybe it's because we've hardly gone out in public together for the last year. Still, I can't recall the last time he kissed me goodbye or goodnight—minus last night after I promised to get back to the gym.

My stomach floods with nausea recalling that moment. How his 'sweet' gesture was accompanied by him grabbing my stomach flab. But before I can fret over it again, Victoria starts giving me a tour of the gym before putting me to work.

Two hours later, I'm a crumpled up ball of sore muscles and broken pride curled up on the gym locker room floor. I'm almost tempted to roll onto my side and press my burning hot cheek to the cool linoleum, but I think me sitting on the floor is already gross enough.

I ignore the odd looks I receive for being curled up on the floor and the lingering tingle of bile in my throat after throwing up twice during my session. Victoria may be small and nearly nine months pregnant, but she's vicious. She could put a real deal drill sergeant to shame.

My phone starts to ring and I struggle to wrestle it out of my pocket, my muscles screaming in pain. "Hello?" I answer, trying not to sound as miserable as I feel.

"I'm waiting outside," Eli says, his tone short and impatient.

I scrub my face with my hand. "I'll be out in a sec," I reply, wondering how the hell I'm going to get up off the floor.

I exhale, mentally counting to three before slowly crawling to a stand, muttering the word ow every two seconds. I walk out of the gym and to Eli's truck at glacier speed, probably looking like I have a stick up my ass.

As soon as I open the truck door, Eli's fresh pine and lavender scent floods my nostrils, letting me know he just took a shower. He's always been one to shower at the gym after a workout, but I never was that person. Public showers give me the ick. And even after sweating my butt off and sitting on the locker room floor, I still refuse to shower anywhere but at home.

I climb up into the truck like a sloth, exhaling a sigh of relief when I'm finally seated inside and I've wrestled on my seatbelt.

Eli wastes no time pulling away from the curb and speeding home. "How was your first session?"

"Brutal," I groan honestly, miserably.

"It'll get better," he says, and while his words are encouraging, his tone is flat.

I manage a nod, and even that hurts.

We ride the rest of the way home in silence, and as soon as we park inside the garage Eli is hopping out of the truck and heading inside the house. I sit alone for a moment, mustering up the strength to climb out of the truck.

After about five minutes I let out a long sigh, sliding out of the truck and into the house. I pass Eli in the kitchen as he stands at the stove, sautéing some vegetables to go with his grilled chicken, and go straight to our bedroom. It takes everything in me to go straight to the attached bathroom and not to immediately flop down onto our bed. I strip off my sweaty gym clothes and jump into the shower, the warm water only doing so much to help my aching muscles.

Praise Jesus I have a stay at home desk job, otherwise I don't know how I'd survive tomorrow.

After my shower I can't even hold my arms up long enough to blow dry my hair. Tossing on pajamas, I immediately flop down onto the bed, wet hair and all, and climb under the covers, letting out a groan of relief.

It's not even dark outside yet and I haven't eaten anything since lunch, but I don't have the mind or the strength to get up to eat something, my body drifting off to a state of unconsciousness as soon as my eyes flutter shut.