But now, the empty house echoes back my confusion.
Why would she leave without a word?
Did I do something wrong? Did she feel pressured?
The intimacy of last night, the vulnerability we shared—did it mean nothing to her? Or did something scare her away?
In this sudden silence, my mind involuntarily drifts to past relationships.
The relationship with Jillian ended badly—obviously. She never thought I had enough ambition and by the end, she used that as her excuse.
Our relationship had been a whirlwind of highs and lows, marked by passionate arguments and equally passionate reconciliations.
But even at our best, it was never like this.
With Jillian, it was a fire that burned too hot, too quickly, leaving only ashes in its wake. There was never emotional depth. Never that connection I’ve always been seeking, but almost thought was a fantasy.
Carlie, though … with her, it’sdifferent.
The connection with her is like a slow-burning flame, warm and inviting. I feel it in the way she looks at me, in the softness of her laugh, the earnest smile lighting in her eyes.
What we have is real in a way that I never experienced with anyone.
Jillian, included.She was more about the image—thespectacle.
Walking back to my bedroom, I grab my phone from my nightstand, intending to call Carlie but stop as a flood of notifications catch my eye. My stomach tightens as I open Instagram, only to see my feed blowing up with posts and comments about me and Carlie—again.
My heart sinks.
“Adam Foxx, using a client from his old job to launch his own gym?Sad to see how the mighty have fallen.”
“Typical player moves, pretending to care just for the ‘gram.”
“I’d use the chubby chick, too. Those thighs. Mmmmm.”
Each word cuts deeper than the last and I think I’m gonna puke.
They don’t know the first thing about what Carlie and I share. They sure as hell don’t know anything abouther. She’s funny, and smart, andfucking gorgeous.
They’ve got it all wrong.
Working with her—training her,datingher—isn’t about publicity or some shallow game.
What I feel for Carlie ...it’s real.
But then the realization hits me hard—what if Carlie saw these?
Could that be the reason she left?
What if she thinks I’m just using her?Usedher.
I run a hand through my hair, my frustration mounting. The one time I find someone who ignites something deep inside me, and this social media circus tries to tear it down.
I won’t let it happen.No fucking way.
I need to set things right.
But how?