chapter four

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(fair warning: the story is going to start getting a bit more sensitive. you're going to start seeing how ill delilah really is. just wanted to let you all know if you're a bit wary of those things, but I try not to get too intense x)

chapter four

I KEPT FAILING. One day two pounds would be off and the next three would be added. I was getting somewhere and nowhere both at the same time and neither were beneficial. My spirits kept crumbling, Harry kept encouraging, Justin kept wound in the fine line in between. Tearing me down one moment and the next telling me he knew I could do it.

Why were they lying to me?

Why was I lying to myself?

A blind man would be able to see how large I was and a deaf man would be able to hear the floorboards creaking with each footfall. It's been almost three weeks of training. Harry said change takes time, but I was running out. I knew this because Justin was doing more shaming than he was praising. It was only a matter of time before he gave up altogether. I couldn't lose him. Not after seven years. I needed to make this work. I needed to.

During the beginning of the second week with Harry, we saw the hefty boy running. His transformation was astonishing. The same old long t-shirt he wore was even longer, and he had gotten new shorts. His face was no longer plump. He no longer tired out halfway around the park. He only stopped for a single break and it was to leave.

He was making a change--why wasn't I?

"Are you following the nutrition plan?" Harry had asked me later that week when I expressed my frustration with myself.

I hated to admit that I was, but not to the fullest. I should've done away with junk food, but I lived in a house full of it. It was excruciatingly difficult to go into the kitchen to make a healthy meal, then see brownies and cookies and chips when you opened the cupboard. I did eat what he planned for me. However, I did eat a little extra as well.

But that shouldn't be why there's no difference. At the grocery store, I helped the people out to their vehicles. I took the stairs to the offices. I'd walk all the way around the store for a specific aisle simply to get more exercise.

It was all a lie. Every bit of it.

What had I done to make everyone want to lie to me?

I stood staring at my reflection in the mirror, fresh out the shower in only my bra and underwear. My face was too chunky, my arms too flabby, my stomach too fleshy, my legs too thick, and even my feet were too wide. I wished I could scratch all of it off. Do away with it in an instant. Just a scratch here and here, dig a little deeper, and scratch some more. It was disgusting. How did people resist retching when I came into view?

Thin trails of blood trickled down my middle. Why wasn't the fat coming off with it? I couldn't deal with this anymore. It had to go. It had to go now.

I heard keys rattling as Justin unlocked the front door, pulling them out of the deadbolt. I should've been worried that he would see me like this. Instead, I was numb as I grabbed my clothes and slipped into the bathroom. I used a wet rag to rid of the blood, all the while I felt nothing. Nothing but hate towards myself.

I didn't cry, I didn't tremble--I simply cleaned.

***

Harry wasn't stupid. He caught on to my distant mood the moment I walked up to him in the park that Monday morning. We had a spot now where we met. Right under the oak tree at the picnic table where I lounged after sit-ups. Where he had given me Desiree's gift. That was close to being two weeks ago, yet it felt like a lifetime and yesterday all at once. Far away yet right in reach. An odd, though common, combination.

He didn't say anything at first. He tried to be normal as we went through stretches. On our run, he attempted conversation. I could hardly look at him. All I could think about was my stomach while I ran and how people must've been laughing to themselves. Harry had told me before they paid no mind to me, but I didn't believe him. He lied when he told me change was possible for anyone.

Part of me was rational enough to know Harry was true to his word, however, the other irrational part of me was convinced he was playing the act. Be kind to the fat one so you could tear them down later. Lift their hearts simply so you had the pleasure to crush it. He said he believed in me but I didn't believe in him. How could I when I kept failing?

"Alright, Delilah, stop."

When I didn't listen, he grabbed my wrist to halt me. I flinched because his grip reminded me too much of how Justin pulled me when he was frustrated. Just yesterday he had come home in a sour mood. He's smart enough not to leave visible marks, but the invisible ones caused the most damage.

Harry's grip was much gentler, and he let go as soon as my feet stopped moving. He placed his hands on his hips, squinting against the sun. "Are you okay?"

"Are you breathing?"

He sighed. "Delilah, I'm serious. You're not acting like yourself."

"I'm fine."

"You're a rubbish liar, that's what you are."

"I don't want to talk about it."

He chewed the inside of his bottom lip, pursing his lips. He stared at me for so long, I had to look away. He was too concerned. Too nosy. Of course he wanted more information. He wanted to have leverage. He wanted more knowledge to use against me, to beat me down. He was no different from Justin and the rest; he was just better at hiding his true motives.

Out of the blue, Harry blurted, "Does he hurt you?"

Still staring at the ground, I tried to sound indifferent. "No. Where'd you get such a ludicrous idea?"

"When I grabbed your wrist, you flinched."

"I did not."

"That's not the first time you've done it, Delilah."

"You just catch me off guard. When I'm lost in thought."

He fell quiet. The only sound circulating were the birds chirping, the ducks splashing in the pond, the occasional child laughing. Even with all the background noise, I was drowning in the silence. I twisted the hem of my shirt, shuffled my feet, hoped he'd drop the subject. My bottom lip was bleeding from biting down so hard, praying there'd be no interrogation.

There wasn't.

There was something worse--his compassion.

"I just want to help, Delilah. I want you to know that you can tell me anything, and I'll listen. You should know by now that you can trust me."

No, I really don't.

Harry offered a faint smile, then nodded his head to gesture the continuation of our jog. I stood there a moment, trying to depict how I felt. I didn't know. I never knew anymore. To save myself from the aggravation, I ran to catch up to him.

When our session was done, I could sense another conversation coming on. I went to the water fountain for a drink to put it off. I came back to find Harry on the phone, just then hanging up. He looked to me while tucking it into his duffle bag.

"What time do you go to the store for your shift?" he asked.

"In about two hours or so. They're pretty loose about it."

"Are you up for a late lunch? I've got to pick Desiree up from school for Gem. She wants to see you."

Harry told me about Gemma, his sister, last week. She had Desiree as a teen and her boyfriend had ditched her. He told Gemma he didn't have the time or the money to take care of a child, and she wasn't worth all the stress the baby would put on him. He wasn't even at the hospital when Desiree was born, and Harry said he has still yet to make contact or any attempt to see either of the girls.

It made me think of Justin. If I had gotten pregnant, would he have stayed by my side? I wanted to believe he would. I was positive he would if I had still been slim. Now that I resembled a blimp, my mind wasn't that comfortable with such high hopes.

I was shocked by Harry's offer. No one wanted to see me. "Are you sure?"

He gave me a look as if he thought I was being ridiculous. "What do you mean, 'are you sure'?"

I didn't want to answer, but he definitely was letting this one slide by. I ringed my hands together, shrugging. "I just... don't want to be a bother, that's all."

Harry laughed, shaking his head. "If you were a bother, I wouldn't have asked if you wanted to go. Plus, you're surely hungry after that run. We hit four and a half laps this time. You're truly improving, Delilah."

Another lie.

I wasn't improving. I was failing. Why did he feel the need to keep lying to me?

He swung his duffle over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows at me. "Will you go?"

"I don't think your nutrition plan would agree with this."

"Very funny." He rolled his eyes half-heartedly. "One meal is not going to kill you. You just can't make a habit of eating bad food all the time. Please come?" It was a statement though he said it more like a question, as if pleading.

I wondered why he became a trainer as opposed to an actor.

"I don't have money for a restaurant," I told him. It was an excuse to prevent humiliation yet also the sad truth.

"I'm a gentleman; I'll pay for you."

"I don't want you to--"

"Delilah, if you don't say yes, you're going to leave me no choice and I'll drag you to my car."

My eyebrows knitted together as I frowned at him. "Why do you want me to go so badly? Haven't you seen enough of me?"

Harry's cheeks actually tinted a light shade of red and he glanced away. "Of course I haven't," he said a bit quietly. "I like spending time with you. And Desiree wants to spend time with you."

I guess a lunch wouldn't hurt. I hadn't had chicken tenders in far too long, and I was definitely craving them. I felt bad Harry would have to pay for me. I made a mental note to pay him back whatever my meal was. I also made a mental note to apologize afterwards for being bothersome. I knew my presence alone tended to have that impact, though he argued otherwise.

"Okay," I said.

He looked surprised, but smiled. I told him I would follow him there so I could head home after and get my shower before going to work. He picked Desiree up at school, then drove to the diner down the road. My heart sank when I pulled in. It was the same diner the football team in high school would go whenever they won a game. The same one Justin constantly took me to.

We got a booth towards the middle by a window. I could picture myself at the back with Justin and the football team and the whole cheerleading squad. All smiling and enjoying life. Justin always held my hand whenever we were in public, as if by letting go the lack of his touch would make me disappear. It made me yearn even more so to go back in time, to keep this entire predicament from happening.

Desiree was bouncing up and down, showing Harry a picture she had painted at school. She told me she was a level ten artist, and all the boys at school told her she was bad at it.

"So I told them to mind their own business because I don't care what they think," she said firmly, folding her thin arms across her tiny chest. "I said I was going to sell all my paintings and then they'd be jealous because I'm famous and they're not."

Despite the sorrow I had been feeling the past week, I managed a smile. "That's a great attitude to have. Dream big."

"Another kid told me boys are better than girls. I said he's wrong because I have a sparkly shirt and he doesn't."

Harry nudged her with his shoulder playfully. "You just think you're hot stuff, huh?"

"Mommy told me to love myself," she said.

"You should. You should love everyone," he told her.

"But not everyone loves me, so why should I love them?"

He poked her cheek. "Because you're supposed to be the better person, Des. If someone says something mean to you, say something nice to them. That hurts more than being mean back."

She shrugged, taking a sip of her sprite. "I'll think about it."

Desiree loved to talk. She spoke all the way through lunch between mouthfuls about how her mother didn't have time to pack her lunch this morning and the school served "puppy food." She talked about art and about her favorite color, movie, song, class, and just everything in between. I liked listening to her. She was so animated, so lively. My biggest wish for her was that she stayed that way.

I had another fifteen minutes or so when we finished, so Harry and Desiree both convinced me to go back to the park with them. I don't know why I agreed, but I did and told myself I could work a little late to make up for it, even though I would get there almost on time. I felt like the giant problem following the two towards the playground, the big storm cloud overhead that wouldn't disappear and darkened the day.

Harry pushed Des on the swing for a while before a little girl came up and asked for a turn. Apparently, Des liked making friends because she started talking to the girl immediately. The two hit it off and were speaking as if they'd known each other longer than a mere two minutes.

I sat on the grass a small distance away and Harry came to sit beside me. I was picking at the strands, tearing them up before letting the wind take them away. It was strangely comforting.

"Killing the earth," Harry said, shaking his head and making a tsk tsk sound. "For shame, Delilah."

I could feel Harry's gaze when I didn't answer, but I watched the grass fly from my palm before reaching for more. He set his hand on top of mine, startling me and for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to pull away. I peered over at him, his eyes full of concern and pity that made me want to scream.

"You're a very good actor," I said abruptly, speaking my thoughts on total accident.

I thought I saw pain flash in his eyes, but knew that was a lie too. "Is that what this is about? You acting all distant because you think I'm 'acting'?"

"I know you don't really care. I'm not stupid, Harry."

"That's doubtful at this point if you really believe that," he said.

"I haven't even known you a full month. You have no reason to care about me. Besides, I'm with Justin. It'll be eight years in less than six weeks that I've been with him."

For the first time ever, I saw Harry get frustrated. His jaw clenched and he looked away from me. It was me staring at him now, waiting for him to speak. Waiting for him to admit that this had been an act the whole time. Waiting for him to get to his feet and make a fool out of me with the lot of people around.

He never did that. Instead, he turned back to me and asked the most random thing: "Why are you wanting to lose weight, Delilah?"

"Because I'm too big and--"

"No, what is the sole purpose for you wanting to change?"

I shook my head. "I told you the day we met that I was doing this for Justin."

He gave me a look that said I was supposed to understand, but I didn't. So he asked, "You don't see any problem with that?"

"With wanting to make him happy?" I said, confused. "Of course I don't. I love him. I want him to be happy and to be proud of me."

He scoffed a little, hanging his head. "Why is it you have to change for him to be proud of you?"

How was this not obvious to him?

"Look at me, Harry." I motioned my hands to myself as he looked up. "I'm disgusting. I'm as big as three of you put together. I'm ugly and I'm fat. Why would he be proud to be with someone like that? I have to change so he still loves me. I have to go back to how I used to be so we can be happy again. I have a chance to make it right with him."

He was shaking his head. "No. God, no. Don't you hear yourself, Delilah? He's brainwashed you into thinking you have to be skinny to be lovable."

I was angry now. He was pushing the boundaries. He thought he knew everything there was to know, but he was wrong. He didn't know me or Justin, despite what he may think. He didn't know the history we had. He didn't know how deep our love ran, how entangled we were. He didn't know anything.

I got to my feet. "You're the one brainwashing me. You keep telling me that change happens in time, but I don't have time, Harry. You keep telling me that I have to stick to my faith, but I don't have faith. And I'm not going to have Justin if I keep listening to you. All you've been doing is lying to me. Everyone lies to me, and I'm sick of it."

I started walking away when he yelled just loud enough for me to hear, "I'm not the one that's been lying to you, Delilah."


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