Perfection Isn't Ours

Chapter Three

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Ciara quickly put on her green tank top when a shirtless Jerome walked in, with a bowl of chocolate cereals. She rolled her eyes and moved over to her gym backpack and placed her towels and water bottles in it. While she stuffed her items into the backpack, she shuddered when she felt Jerome's muscled arms around her waist which made her frown deeply.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Hugging you? You love my hugs. What's wrong, love?" He whispered and kissed her bare shoulder.

"Get off me, Jerome," she hissed and pried his arms away from her body, took her backpack and glared at the confused man.

"What the hell was that?! You're my fiancée and I can touch or hold you however I like. You don't have the right to stop me!" He barked.

Ciara winced. "Well, it seems like you've made yourself some Commander, go on with it. And tonight, you're sleeping in the other room."

She picked up her phone beside her, and walked out, banging the door in the process.

"What's got her all narky?" Jerome asked and ran his fingers through his blonde hair.

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Ciara walked into the bustling gym and felt an air of relief go through her at the song playing out of the speakers stationed around. She smiled, stretched her arms and walked to the receptionist table and waved at the man behind the counter.

"Hello, Robert," she said to the dark haired young man that had well trimmed side buns. 

"Hey, mate," Robert replied. "You didn't come in on Thursday, what happened?"

"Nothing but work. I worked late and slept in. So I missed my work-out but don't worry, I made it up with some jogs, squats, and pull ups," she replied and patted her backpack with a slight giggle.

"That's nice," he leaned on the counter.

"Okay, I'll be in my favourite spot if you're looking for me," she said and walked away. She got to the treadmill, placed her backpack down and mounted the machine, put in the speed she could handle and began to run. She pulled out her earphone from her sweatpants and plugged it into her phone then put some music on, blocking the sounds  in the gym.

•••

Mason dropped the dumbbells back into place with a grunt and sat up from the bench he was sitting on. He wiped his face off with the back of his hand and took a large gulp of water from his bottle before cleaning off his sweat from the instruments he used and walked away. He got to the receptionist area and smiled at Robert who beamed back at him.

"What's up? How come I didn't see you when I came in?" He asked while dabbing his forehead with his towel.

"I was in the back, inspecting some new instruments. Looks like the manager has got some surprises for you gym people," Robert replied.

Mason chuckled. "You should try registering for gym lessons, Rob. That's one of the ways to catch a lady." He winked.

"Nah. I'm perfectly okay with the way I am. Don't want no lumps, mate," he replied, flexing his arms with a pout of his pink lips.

"Okay, Rob. I'll be at the treadmills if anyone looks for me," Mason said and walked straight to the machines. 

As he drew close he saw two young women and a man already using some and there were only two left. He looked around for anyone who wanted to use the one he eyed, then shrugged and took the one between the two women. He mounted the device and inputted his speed range and began to run, much faster than the women on his sides. He shut his eyes and immediately the thoughts of Fiona and last night swam through his thoughts.

Mason began to feel the hurt, his heart racing faster by the second, and the same heart feeling the burn of being hurt from the hard truth he found out. He opened his eyes.

I need to punch something, he thought and made the machine stop then mounted off the same time one of the women did. He walked slowly behind the woman, he couldn't help but admit, she was perfectly shaped. She was fit, her waist was slim and hips not too wide. He wondered what her front might be like. 

He paused, I shouldn't be thinking about a stranger like this, you fool, he thought.

Mason frowned when it seemed like the woman was going to the room where the punching bags hung. He shrugged and followed her in when she opened the door. Then she turned to face him with a frown on her face.

"You?!" They both said.

Ciara stood straight and glared at the man in front of her. She stared at him skeptically and noticed that he was wearing baseball shorts, his leg muscles were appropriate, he wore a shirt that had its sleeves looking like he scissored them off by himself, showing his arm muscles. Then she made eye contact with him, his dark blue eyes glaring back in question while his dark arched brows were scrunched up together.

"Are you okay? You sort of zoned out," he said in a dry tone.

She frowned. "Are you following me?"

He flinched. "What?! Why would I follow you? We just happen to go to the same gym. Actually because we just know each other, we started to notice the things we both do when we didn't know we were in the same place."

"That makes sense. But, that proves nothing. Don't you ever follow me or I don't want to see you anywhere close to me. Got it, mate?" Ciara said with a hiss.

"Look, man. I'm just trying to exercise. Now, excuse me," he walked past her to a punching bag at the opposite side of the dim room and stared at her sideways.

"Who does he think he is, walking right by me that way?" She whispered and walked to a punching bag. 

She began to hear the familiar punch sounds and which were pretty hard. She glanced at the man across her. His hair was wet and stuck to his forehead, the muscles of his arm bunched and contracted each time he landed a strong blow on the punching bag which moved in different directions. She rolled her eyes and took a stance. Ciara slowly closed her eyes, breathed in then out and held the bag.

What made you cheat on me, Jerome?

She punched the bag lightly.

We've been together for four years!

She punched the bag with a little force and winched.

Am I not beautiful enough?!

She punched the bag a few more times, eyes closed and face contorted in anger.

You always told me that I was fat before! I started going to the gym for you! 

She punched harder.

You told me you'd never cheat! 

Her punches increased in force and speed while her forehead became wet from her sweat.

You told me that I'm your soulmate! That I complete you! Where did all those go?!

She grunted as she gave a series of punches.

Have I added weight?! Have I gone ugly? Do I get plastic surgery to look so hot like her?!

She continuously punched the swinging bag as her thoughts raced and her heart pumped in anger.

Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!

She channelled all her aggression into her punches then suddenly felt strong arms around her waist as before she fell to the floor. She began to cry hard, her tears hot and mixing with her sweat. She leaned into the warm body of whoever it was and felt a bit comforted by his touch. She cried harder at the fact that someone was even consoling her.

"Why?" She asked weakly and sniffled.

"Calm down, it's okay," he whispered and tightened his hold around her body and at that moment, Ciara frowned and looked up at Mason's concerned face. She looked down at his half exposed chest then up at his face once more. She instantly moved away from his grip then wiped her face furiously. 

Did I say all those out loud? She thought.

"You didn't say anything, if that's what you're thinking," he said and offered her a small smile.

He reads mind? No, maybe it's an easy guess.

"You muttered and most people who come to this room, come here to clear their heart or mind. That's why it's a separate room. I was watching you while I punched and I saw the emotion climax on your face and body language. I knew it wasn't going to end well. Then you caved. I'm sorry if you feel I am intruding, I thought you were going to hurt yourself at that rate," he explained.

"You should be sorry and again, stay out of my way!" She barked and walked out of the room. Mason exhaled with a shake of his head.

He rose up from his kneeling position and made his way back to the bag he had been using. He held it with both his hands and glanced at the swinging bag that The dark haired woman had been punching. His mind got filled with the expression she had put on.

"I wonder what was hurting her so much?" He whispered. "Why am I even bothered about what happens to her? She's a complete stranger to me anyway."

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