Chapter 6

Lisa was not in the workout room the following evening, even though it was our scheduled cross-training night. I texted her to see if she was running late. When I didn’t get a response after a few minutes, I remembered all that work from the previous night. I had no doubt that the poor lady must be buried.

However, when my workout ended with still no return text, I became a little concerned. It wasn’t like her to not respond at all. I headed over to her apartment – she finally let me know that it was apartment 712 – and knocked on the door. I thought I heard some rustling around inside, but there was no answer.

I shrugged. Maybe she wasn’t feeling well. I would try again tomorrow.

During the following day, I sent her a text to ask how her day is going. My day was busy enough that I didn’t realize until just before clocking out that I had received no response.

That evening, I headed to the workout room. Still no Lisa. I hopped on the treadmill, and shortly afterward, heard the door open. In the mirror I saw Lisa’s reflection walk in ... and then turn and walk out as soon as she saw me.

Okay ... now I knew for sure that something was not quite right. But by the time I could stop the treadmill and jump off to go after her, she was nowhere to be seen.

I decided to send her a text: “What’s wrong?”

I received a five-word response: “Blocking you. Leave me alone.”

I tried to ponder what could possibly have prompted this. Did I say something wrong? Do something wrong? Certainly something changed her mind about me. The problem was, I couldn’t think of anything I did or said that she would take such exception to.

I could only come to the conclusion that she had finally seen my reality, which included migraines, being generally being incapacitated at times, and, of course, needing to be taken care of at those times. Presumably, she had decided that reality was too much for her.

I was annoyed, to be sure, but not surprised. It was just a much more abrupt – and painful – version of the “you’re a nice guy but” speech. I tried to tell myself it was her loss.

Somehow, that didn’t ease the pain.

Nor did it mitigate the surprise when I went to the workout room two nights later and saw Lisa sitting on the weight bench. She was dressed in street clothes and clearly had no plans to work out. Still, she was there, albeit with an utterly impassive look on her face.

In a monotone, she said, “I just have one question, and then I’m leaving. What did you mean about ‘making it worth my while’ the other night?”

Initially, I was perplexed. I had just thinking I would offer to buy her breakf...

... and then another possible meaning of that sentence dawned on me.

“Oh, crap,” I muttered as I leaned against the wall while my stomach took an express elevator to the floor.

“Oh, no. No. No. Oh, God. No.” I lifted my head to look at her. “Lisa, I swear to you, I wasn’t coming on to you. I was offering to buy you breakfast in the morning before work if you wanted to stay.”

Her face decidedly softened. “I thought it was a bit ... uh ... out of character for you.”

I tipped my head back and covered my face with my hands again. “Oh, God...” I groaned.