Breaking the Cycle – Post Six

my foot

I went to kickboxing class tonight.  We sparred with the punching bag as I learned to kick.  Unfortunately I haven’t quite grasped the concept to connect with my shin, not my foot.  So now, as you can see, my foot is swelling and a bruise is forming near my big toe.

I really, really love my kickboxing class!! ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

So with it being kickboxing night I am inspired to post the next part of Breaking the Cycle.  Unfortunately, like my post for Tuesday Tales this week, it’s not a happy one…

Max stared into space, distracted by his thoughts.  He snapped back to attention as he heard his name called.

“Max, dude!  A little help here please?”

Max shook himself back to reality then grasped the bench press bar, lifting it from the hands of the struggling body builder.  The muscle bound man turned and glared at him.  “You Ok, buddy?”

“Yeah, fine,” Max answered.  But he was far from fine.  All he could think about was his date with Chloe.  Epic disaster.  He felt like a complete jerk for not going back to the hospital to see if she was all right.  Not that her mother would let me.  That witch would have thrown me out herself.  On top of all that the doctor’s warning to get as far away from Chloe kept ringing in his ears.

Maybe the doctor was right.  Maybe he needed to get as far away from Chloe as possible.  She certainly didn’t want him.

He turned as he caught something out of the corner of his eye.  Speaking of the devil…  Chloe shuffled across the fitness area towards the employee locker room.  She was ghostly pale and her shoulders were hunched.  Her eyes, shaded with dark circles under her eyes, were glued to the floor.

“Chloe, can I talk to you a minute?’ Roadie called.

She raised her head.  Slowly she crossed the fitness center floor to him.

“You are a valuable asset to this company,” Roadie began, his booming voice silencing treadmills and weight machines.  Max looked around at all the faces focused on the scene.  “But I need you here to be that asset.”

“I know, Roadie,” Chloe protested.  “I’ve been sick.”

“It seems you are always sick, Chloe.  Which makes me question how someone so physically fit can always be so sick.”

Chloe couldn’t answer him.  She bit her lower lip as tears filled her eyes.  Roadie continued.

“I’m going to have to let you go, Chloe.  Please clean out your locker.”

Chloe sobbed as she spun on her toe and dashed for the locker room.  Slowly the whirl of elliptical and stationary bikes filled the air again.  Max stormed towards Roadie and grasped the older man by the shoulder.

“That was uncalled for, Roadie,” he growled.

“What, Max?  You’ve covered enough of her classes to realize she had to go.”

“You publicly humiliated her!  And for the record, she was sick.  She was in the hospital.”

“Yes, her mother informed me quite loudly.  What would you want me to do?”

“She was sick every third Thursday like clockwork.  Even I figured that out.  Maybe you could have picked up on her pattern and just given her that day off?  Or was that too simple?”

Roadie’s eyes drew to slits as he glared at Max.  “If you’d like to join Chloe on the unemployment line keep it up.”

Max stared angrily at him in silence for several moments before he stalked off to the free weights area.


About triciaandersen

I am the author and illustrator of the children's book "The Peculiar Princess". I am also the author of two adult fantasy romance novels, "The Sorceress of Savon" and "The Woodcutter King of Muladin". Along with being an author I am married to a wonderful guy and have three beautiful children. I coach youth track and field, sew and chase my children around to their various activities.

Posted on April 19, 2013, in author, books, fiction, novel, romance, story, Uncategorized, writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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