chapter three

I DID IT. I got the job. Not only that, but I even managed to buy back most of the goodies I had ruined, like Justin requested. I had absolutely zero spending money left, and I still hadn't gotten all of the groceries, but he came home Friday night content to see the cupboards full once more. His satisfaction was all I needed. All that mattered.

He watched a movie with me later that evening. It was nice to curl up next to him. Nowadays it was a rare opportunity to cuddle with him. He was either gone or in a bad mood, and when he was in a bad mood, he made it clear he didn't want to look at me. I couldn't blame him. I'm rather disgusting to observe. Even nastier to hold and snuggle.

I had met Harry at the park again that morning, as promised. Still, he seemed a bit shocked to see me. Miraculously, he appeared almost relieved. We did the same routine as Wednesday, minus the touchy lesson in the beginning and plus another lap around the park. I tired out halfway through the second one, which Harry said was understandable and we'd try again next session. He had hardly broken a sweat.

"Did they make you my trainer to torture me?" I had asked him.

He raised his eyebrows. "Torture you how?"

My cheeks were already flushing, so I looked to the ground. "You'll probably be eighty and still capable of outrunning me," I said. "And you'll probably still look better than me."

"Was that a subtle way of you complimenting my looks?"

I gaped up at him, face burning, yet he was grinning teasingly, tilting his head to the side. "Don't put words in my mouth." I had pointed my finger at him, as if I were making a threat. Had I been doing so, I'd be too lazy to fulfill that threat so we both knew it was meaningless.

Harry held his hands up. "I did no such thing." He was quiet for a moment before saying, "So does that mean you think I'm ugly?"

I slapped my hand to my forehead and he bent over laughing.

Sunday afternoon, Justin rolled out of bed batting his eyes at me, playful like he used to be while I was brushing my teeth. He stretched before walking over to me, placing his lips on my forehead. He had me going in circles constantly--some days he was like his old self and others he was telling me I wasn't good enough for him. What was I supposed to believe? I couldn't give up when the part of him I love still remained.

For some reason, he was extra affectionate this morning. He wrapped his arms around my waist while I scrambled some eggs and cooked him bacon, resting his chin on my shoulder. It was so much like how we used to be. It was painful to think about. I devoured the moment, however, not wanting to risk it being tossed away forever. I missed this. I missed him.

He walked over to the fridge, peering inside before asking, "No more orange juice?"

My heart sank to the pit of my stomach. Well, the moment was beautiful while it lasted. "I'm sorry. I hadn't realized or I would have--"

Justin looked over his shoulder at me with a smile--a smile!--on his face. "It's alright, babe. Could we go to the store? I think we're running low on some other stuff, too."

I was staring at him, unsure of what to make of this new person. Is the old Justin really returning to me? A spark of joy made my heart skip a beat at the thought. "Oh, well... sure we can. We can go after you eat."

He pressed his lips to mine for a split second before grabbing the plate I fixed him out of my hands. When he sat on the couch, he called me over to sit by him. I was beyond my wits at this point, but I really hadn't cared. He wanted me around and I would cling to that, clutch the small hope of us ever going back to normal.

We took Justin's pickup to the store. He had gotten it senior year as a graduation present from his grandparents, though it still looked fairly new. It was his prized possession. It used to be second to me. I'm quite positive it surpassed me a long while ago.

Scanning the aisles, Justin was acting just like he used to whenever we came to the store. He was bouncing around, grabbing things we hadn't come to get. He saw a mug with his favorite football team on it and snagged it off the shelf, even though he didn't even drink coffee. Fortunately, this wasn't coming off the nonexistent money I made. Justin was one of those incredible athletes that took advantage of his scholarships. He made money simply by playing football and being good at it.

Turning another aisle, there was a little girl hopping in excitement while reaching up for a box of brownies. Her back was turned to me, giving me the perfect view of Harry striding towards her. Nervously, I glanced over my shoulder to see Justin still trying to figure out which flavor of chips to get. Wait, why was I nervous? Justin had stopped getting jealous when the abundant pounds started adding on.

"I sure hope you don't plan on eating all this."

Harry's voice startled me and I turned back around. The little girl stood beside him, holding his hand with one of hers and the box of brownies in the other.

"I did give you a nutrition plan, after all," he joked, though seemed a little serious nonetheless.

I gave him a look. "You don't trust me?"

"Now who's the one switching around the sentence?"

He smiled, which instantly had the effect of me smiling back. The little girl tugged on his hand. "Can I have a brownie now?"

"You haven't eaten lunch yet, Des. Your mother would not be very happy with me." When the girl groaned, Harry laughed and looked over to me. "Delilah, this is my niece Desiree. Everyone calls her Des, though."

I smiled. "Nice to meet you, Des."

She stood straight and took her hand out of Harry's, lifting five fingers. "I'm five years old," she said proudly. Then she grinned, flashing all her small teeth. She pointed to an empty space at the bottom. "I lost that tooth yesterday. My first one! My friends at school were jealous. Oh, and I got a dollar from the Tooth Fairy!"

"Wow, you've got more money than me," I laughed, yet the sad part was it was nearly true.

"I'm richer than everyone," she said, spreading her free arm wide.

Harry ruffled her hair. "Don't go thinking you're better than everyone else, missy. You'll get a big head."

Her eyes widened. "Will it explode?"

"If it gets too big."

I gave Harry a look but stifled laughter. It was obvious the two were close and even more obvious that Desiree quite enjoyed being around him. After she was done making hand gestures, she'd slip her frail hand back into Harry's large one, even if only for a second before she began animatedly speaking once more.

I stiffened when I felt Justin's hand on the small of my back, his fingers digging just the slightest into my hip. That used to be his way of showing me he was uncomfortable with a guy talking to me, and apparently, that had not changed. I wasn't sure why he was being protective. He hadn't been since we graduated.

"Hey," he said, voice taut. "I'm Justin, Delilah's boyfriend."

Either unphased or oblivious to Justin's firm tone, Harry kept an easy smile on his face. "I'm Harry, Delilah's trainer. Nice to meet you."

The two shook hands and I was afraid Justin would try to rip Harry's arm out the socket. Harry glanced to me. I looked down at my hands. Was I supposed to comment on how great Justin was? Oddly enough, it was only easy to do so when he wasn't present.

"It was nice seeing you, Delilah," said Harry. "I'll see you tomorrow. And nice meeting you, again, Justin."

"You too, man."

With a curt nod and a tight smile, Harry and Desiree turned and left.

Justin's adorable mood from before had shifted into one I could hardly decipher. I made the bold move of asking him what was wrong when we got back into his truck, but he had said he was fine. A blatant lie.

He was quiet for a moment before muttering, "I just know you can't fight temptations, that's all."

My lips parted. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you can eat till you pass out. I don't see why he could be that much harder to resist."

"Are you seriously jealous? You can't honestly believe I'm that type of person. We've been together for seven years, for Pete's sake."

"Exactly a motive to get tired of me and want something else."

Huffing in annoyance, I crossed my arms over my chest. "I wouldn't do that to you. It almost seems like you're talking from experience."

Justin's silence was a red flag, and yet I stupidly ignored it.

***

"Your boyfriend seems... different from how I imagined," said Harry as he kept his knees on my feet, making the sit-ups elementary.

"How'd you imagine him?"

Harry pursed his lips, furrowed his eyebrows. "More easy-going, I suppose."

I almost laughed. I probably would have had it not been for the distressing sit-ups taking all of my breath. "You only saw him for five seconds."

"Five seconds is a lot more time than it sounds."

"Am I done yet?"

"Think you could make the fifteen mark?"

"Where am I now?"

"Eight."

"Jesus Christ."

Harry laughed just as I pulled myself up again, laying my head on my knees. He reached over and got the water bottle, handing it to me. I chugged half of it before saving the rest for the run. Sometimes the fountain water was too hot, which is profoundly unappealing when you're panting like a dog, which is also quite unappealing to think about for too long.

After resting a brief moment, I continued and surprised myself by hitting fifteen. Granted, I felt like laying in the grass and never getting up, but I did it. I stayed sitting up instead of laying down, which was saying a lot for me. Harry asked if I wanted to sit on a bench, but I told him my body wouldn't allow me to stand. He thought that was funny and pulled me to my feet out of spite, dragging me over to a picnic table.

Rather than sitting on the bench like a normal person, I laid across the top of the table. My stomach was cramping in every spot possible, and I was sweating so bad it probably looked like I just jumped into the pond.

"Stay here," Harry told me before disappearing.

I hadn't even looked up, soaking in the shade the oak tree provided. Harry tapped on my head when he returned. I peeked up to see him holding a sparkly small box with a piece of colorful paper folded on top. I frowned, a bit confused, but then he smiled.

"Happy birthday. Desiree wanted to get you something because I had absolutely no idea what to get."

Which was understandable. We'd barely known each other a week.

Still, the fact that he remembered was heart-warming. Justin hadn't even said anything this morning when he left for school. It wasn't a big deal at the time, but now the truth was pestering, unavoidable. Justin's sweet moments were simply that--moments. He wasn't in love with me anymore.

I felt like crying after admitting that to myself, but tried to hold it in. However, when Harry told me that Desiree picked out sparkly wrapping paper because I reminded her of a princess, I nearly lost it. The colorful paper on top had been a picture she'd drawn of a flower with her name written in children's scribe at the bottom. Inside the box, a plastic squirt gun was the first item I pulled out.

"She said every princess needs a weapon," Harry said.

I laughed, my eyes watering. Oh God, I cried too much. I was too weak. Too vulnerable. Too sensitive. Too bothersome. Too disgusting. Too fat.

The next item was a small stuffed monkey with big, beady eyes and a long tail. A companion, Desiree said. So the princess doesn't get lonely.

The monkey was blurring. I wiped furiously at my eyes. Harry was staring at me. He must've been thinking the same. I cried too much. I was too pathetic. Too helpless. Too bothersome. Too disgusting. Too fat.

I scrambled to put the things back in the box, about to slide off the table and flee. Running from my problems was easy, a temporary relief. I was good at putting things off. I could do that. But be someone's prized possession like a truck? That was out of my league. I could never again own up to that damned vehicle. I lost my high status. I was worthless now. Invaluable. Insignificant. Irrelevant.

Harry's hand caught my wrist. I wanted to slap it away so I could cry in peace where no one could judge me, but I didn't. A part of me was comforted by the fact that he wanted me to stay. Even when I was so invaluable. So pathetic. So fat.

"Don't leave this time," he said quietly. "Talk to me."

I shook my head. Attempted to hide my face with my ponytail.

Instead of pushing me to speak, he surprised me by pulling me into a tight hug. It was hard to choke back sobs at that point. It's true what they say: sometimes a silent hug speaks a thousand words. How is it that a hug could break someone yet heal them simultaneously? Somehow hugs had become the ultimate medicine.

I realized I'd needed a mere hug all along. A genuine one, like this. Justin's hug yesterday morning was only half as sincere as this one. He didn't love me anymore. I didn't blame him. He deserved someone his arms actually fit all the way around. Someone he didn't have to look at and feel appalled. I used to be that someone. I wanted to be that someone again. I wanted him to love me like he used to. I couldn't lose him. Not after being with him for so long.

Harry pulled away only when my cries softened and I tugged back first. He had a concerned look on his face, yet offered a gentle smile. "This isn't about being overjoyed from a little kid's gift, is it?"

As if he needed to ask.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, rubbing my eyes.

He waved his hand dismissively. "Apologizing for crying is like apologizing for laughing. Everyone cries and everyone laughs. Nothing to be sorry for."

"But I cry too much."

"That just means you care too much."

"So how do I stop caring?" I asked, only partially joking.

Harry shook his head. "Don't stop caring, Delilah. This world needs more people who care. But caring too much can make you a prisoner."

"I don't suppose you have advice on how to find a balance," I murmured.

Harry's kind smile spread back over his face. "Unfortunately, I don't. I'm still trying to find the balance myself."