Chapter 4

I limped to my car and groaned as I sat down. My legs screamed in protest.

“God, I need a hot bath and a cold beer.”

I glanced at the neatly typed diet plan on the passenger seat. Unsurprisingly, there was no section titled Rewards: Beer and Bacon. With a sigh, I tossed it into the back seat.

I told myself the pain meant progress. That I was turning a page. Starting over.

That pep talk worked great until I had to get out of the car and walk into the general store. Every step felt like I was being punished for every cheeseburger I’d ever loved.

Gingerly, I pushed the cart through the aisles, grabbing the fruit, vegetables, and sad protein alternatives on my list. I gave the cheese section a mournful glance and whispered a quiet goodbye to Brie and sharp cheddar. They didn’t deserve this betrayal. I almost shed a tear.

“Are you okay?” a soft female voice asked.

I turned. A young woman—short, plump, with big brown eyes and shoulder-length auburn hair—stood beside me, a look of concern on her face. She wore a yoga T-shirt and held a small shopping basket filled with Greek yogurt, bananas, and ... quinoa. She reached out and lightly touched my arm.

“I just saw the look on your face. You looked like someone ran over your dog ... or stole your grilled cheese.”

I laughed, and then winced. “That’s not far from the truth. I just had my first gym session. My entire body’s filing a complaint. And apparently, I now eat like a sad rabbit trying to impress a doctor.”