Page 9 of A Solid Guide to Surviving a Situationship

“It was just three months!”

And I almost believed it.

A little later, I went to the gym.

The place smelled of metal, rubber, and determination.

I lay flat on the bench, staring up at the barbell above me like it personally owed me an apology. My arms trembled slightly. Not dramatically, but just enough to betray the fact that I had already pushed past the weight I normally lifted.

“Up,” Mel said calmly from behind the bar.

Easy for her to say!

My hands tightened around the steel.

I pushed.

The bar rose halfway before my arms began shaking like I was reconsidering every decision I had made that afternoon.

“James,” Mel said, still calm but firm. “Finish the rep.”

“I am finishing it,” I grunted.

She stepped in and lightly guided the bar upward, just enough assistance to save my pride without fully rescuing me. The weights clicked back onto the rack with a heavy clack!

I exhaled and lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, sweat dripping on my body.

“See?” Mel said, handing me a towel. “Sometimes you just need a spotter.”

I sat up slowly, sweat rolling down my back. The gym buzzed around us—weights dropping, machines humming, someone grunting aggressively in a corner like he was trying to fight gravity.

Mel, of course, looked fine.

She stood beside the bench in black high-waisted leggings and fitted athletic top, barely winded. Her ponytail was still perfectly tight, like discipline had personally tied it for her. Her skin carried that post-workout glow people spent a ridiculous amount of money trying to recreate.

Meanwhile I looked like heartbreak had a gym membership. But still pretty.

She took a sip from her water bottle and studied me.

“So,” she said casually.

That word alone told me exactly where this conversation was going.

“So,” I repeated.

Mel leaned one hip against the rack. “Are we still pretending it was only three months?”

I wiped my face with the towel and shrugged. “It was only three months,” I said unconvincingly.

She didn’t respond right away.

Instead, she walked over to the rack of dumbbells and picked up two heavy ones like they were groceries. She set them down in front of me with a soft thud.

“Three months,” she said, “is still a lot of reps, James.”

I frowned and sat up straighter.

She crossed her arms.