My Fiancée And Her Personal Trainer

After wrapping up a book signing out of town, I received a message from a friend on the way home.

"This personal trainer is something else. He can do all kinds of things with an exercise ball."

He also sent me a Live Photo.

In the Live Photo, a woman was lying on an exercise ball, pinned down by a man. Her hair was covering her face.

In the Live Photo that was a second long, I heard a familiar moan.

I called my fiancée.

"Where are you?"

Her voice was a bit hoarse, "I'm training with an exercise ball at the neighborhood gym, babe. I have a big surprise waiting for you when you get home."

I snorted and said, real slow, "How about I give you a big surprise right now? Open the door!"

I heard noises in the gym. Soon, the automatic door slid open.

A man in sweatpants walked over. He grabbed the towel around his neck to wipe off the sweat from his workout, looking pissed off. "Who are you? The gym's closed today!"

I recognized him straight away. He was Chad Smith, a student athlete from a nearby college.

Ignoring him, I walked straight in.

He pushed me out with one hand, saying, "Get lost! A woman's changing inside!"

I slammed into a wall. The pain made my body curl up.

Through my blurry vision, I could see a woman scrambling to get dressed in the gym.

Not far off from her was that exercise ball I saw in the Live Photo. It was stained with some suspicious-looking white stuff.

"Wendy Zeller, get over here!"

I straightened up, my voice hoarse.

Wendy froze, then quickly grabbed a man's jacket and zipped it up to cover herself.

Chad threw an arm around Wendy after she sauntered over. He looked me up and down and sneered. "So you're Wendy's boyfriend? The one with a tiny wiener?"

He brushed some wet hair off her collar like he'd done it a million times before.

"What are you doing here? My personal training sessions are expensive, you know. You think a leech like you can afford it?"

"Personal training? What kind of personal training involves getting your lower bodies tangled up together?"

I whipped out my phone and shoved the Live Photo in their faces.

Wendy went white as a sheet.

Not because she felt guilty, but because she was enraged that she got caught.

She pushed Chad away and slapped me on the face.

"You shameless jerk! You sent someone to spy on me?!"

I grabbed her hand before she could do it again, my grip tightening in anger.

"Do I have to? I bet the whole bloody neighborhood knows what you two have been up to while I was away!"

Wendy's pupils constricted as she tried to wriggle free. "Let me go! How dare you treat me like this?! Who do you think you are?! You're just a worthless leech that I have to support!"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

I handed over my entire salary to her, keeping only $200 a month for myself. How did I become the leech?

"I'm only getting in shape so that you'll feel good on our wedding day! And you? You don't trust me at all! You sent someone to spy on me! Chad's a thousand times the man that you are. He makes me happy every day. Can you do that?"

Wendy pulled a bank card out of her bag and threw it at my face.

"Stop bothering me. I'm way too good for a loser like you!"

Chad put his arm around Wendy's waist and looked at me like I was a clown.

"Hear that, tiny wiener? Wendy chose me."

He steered her back inside, and the door slid shut.

I clenched my fists and picked up the bank card.

A few seconds later, I could hear them both panting inside.

Chad made sure to raise his voice. "Babe, scream louder, let him know who makes you happier."

Wendy stopped suppressing her moans in response.

I squeezed the bank card so hard it snapped.