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“It isn’t working out, Jase. It’s just… I can’t explain it,” I spoke solemnly.

Sitting on our sofa dressed in a neatly pressed tux having just returned from a wedding, he leaned back and rubbed his face vigorously with his hands. I, on the other hand, didn’t want to cry. This shouldn’t be about emotions. Rather, it should be a rational decision between two adults.

“Are we doing the right thing, Jase?”

His voice croaked, but quick to compose himself, he smiled and, as always, managed to say the right words. “We’re just so comfortable. I didn’t…” he paused then said, “… never mind.”

“No, tell me, you didn’t what?”

He hesitated at first, then opened up, attempting to relay his emotions. “I didn’t think we’d fall into this rut so quickly. Couples get married all the time, and then the relationship becomes a routine.”

Remaining quiet, I gave myself a moment to get my words right. “You expect raw and wild sex at random moments, dinners at fancy restaurants, making out at the movies, but it’s not like that.”

He chuckled heartily. “Presley Malone, I’ll sure miss your ways. I hope the next relationship I have won’t shoot me for placing my black socks in the same row as my white.”

Ouch, that stung a little.

Brush it off, you wanted this. Yes, you loved him dearly, you’re just not in love with him anymore. You knew it wasn’t right, you knew you wanted more. More what, though?

“But this is so calm. Aren’t breakups supposed to be full of tears and throwing bags of clothes out the window?” I asked.

“Yeah, maybe, but we’re beyond that. I’ll always love you, Pres. But this… this is the best for us. We owe it to each other,” he reaffirmed.

He was right. We had given each other five great memorable years. I couldn’t have asked for a better person to have shared that with, and now we both needed to see what else is out there in the world.

I wasn’t sure if it was proper breakup protocol to hug it out, but I leaned in anyway, and for the very last time, I held on to Jason. His embrace was warm and familiar, and I knew that no matter what happened to me, wherever I go or whatever I do, I have a friend in Jason Hart.

We called off the wedding and parted ways.

Single. Again. At thirty-fricken-two.

Marriage, three kids, and that damn dream house just flew out the window.

What terrified me most was maybe it wasn’t in the grand plan for Presley Malone. Maybe fate and the universe got together and said, “Hey, Miss Plan-It-Out needs to learn a lesson in life. Let’s screw her sideways and see how she copes.”

The problem wasn’t fate or the universe—it was the biggest jerk of all time.

My office rival.

And unfortunately, now, I am bound to him.

Forever.

Two

I am running a marathon and beside me, others speed past threatening to reach the finish line before I do. The adrenaline is kicking in, and just at that point when my legs are about to give out and refuse to carry me any further, the black and white checkered flag comes into sight, waving proudly.

The end is within reach, only a few more minutes, and you’ll cross the fi

nish line and crown first place. My heart is thumping loud, ready to burst out of my chest and collapse onto the ground. The sweat beads are forming and dripping down my face. The time clicks over to thirty minutes, and like a strike of glory, I hit stop.

My marathon is actually me running on the treadmill. My lungs hurt so much that I am this close to calling the cute personal trainer over to resuscitate me.

Okay, so I’m being a drama queen.

It’s way too early in the morning for this, and let’s not forget to highlight the fact that I am a gym virgin. I don’t mind a brisk walk or run in the park once in a while, but the gym and I, we’re complete strangers.

Since my ex-fiancé, Jason, moved out last week, I have come here almost every day hoping to relieve the anxiety and tension consuming me. It’s not like we ended on bad terms. In fact, it was the best breakup you could have asked for—no tears, finances were divided evenly, and we decided to put the apartment on the market and split our profit. I couldn’t have planned a more amicable breakup.

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