Exercise?

Day Two ~ Celerity

Exercise?

“Hey, honey. Sorry I’m late. I ran into Steve in the car park. Did you know Katie’s expecting again?”

Diane bit back her snarky retort and settled for, “Yeah. I saw her earlier.”

“This is their fourth, isn’t it? Bloody hell, Di. Who needs four kids?”

Taking a long, slow draw of breath, she stood and faced her husband. Cookie crumbs scattered around her feet. “Shall I take your coat, love?”

“Oh, God, sorry. That was thoughtless of me. I shouldn’t have said it. Sorry. I didn’t mean anythi—”

“It’s fine, Nick. Chill out.” They walked through to the living room, eyes fixed on the floor, and Diane said the only words she could find that might help: “G&T?”

She watched Nick’s shoulders relax as he lifted his head. “Oh, that would be good.”

Sitting next to her husband on the sofa, she tipped her head back and swallowed her drink in one, banging her empty glass down on the coffee table. “So, I had my doctor’s appointment today.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot. Sorry. How did it go?”

“You don’t have to keep apologising, you know.” A surge of heat flooded her cheeks. She was angry with Nick, and she didn’t know why. Maybe, because it was his fault she was fat; his fault she was diabetic. Mr. Stick-thin-I-can-eat-anything-I-want-and-not-gain-weight. Her eyes settled on his washboard stomach and toned chest, watching it rise and fall underneath his shirt. He could never understand how hard it was for her, and she resented him for it.

“I’m fat, Nick. So fat I’m ill. The diabetes is screwed up; my numbers are all over the place. I can never enjoy food again. I have to be—what was the word?—oh yes, abstemious.”

Confusion crossed his face. “Abstemious? What does that mean?”

“Not what you might think, let me tell you. It’s not good. It means I can never eat anything that tastes nice, and I have to live on vegetables for the rest of my life.” That word: vegetables; she hated it. It always left a nasty taste in her mouth, much like the horrid little articles themselves.

Nick shook his head. “I’m sure you can eat normal food as well, honey. You just have to not over indulge and, probably, not eat a whole packet of cookies every afternoon. If you exercised every day as well, it would help. Why not come to the gym with me? It’s fun.”

She took her husband’s hand and looked into his sparkling-champagne eyes. “Seriously? Me? The gym?” She laughed and stood to go refill her glass. Nick trailed behind her into the kitchen, tugging at her sweater.

“Come on, honey. It’ll be good. I’ll help you to lose weight. We can eat healthily together. Starting tonight. Let’s see what we have in the cupboards.” As he opened one of the higher cupboards, Diane’s secret stash of peanut M&Ms came tumbling toward them. With one swift movement, she reached out and caught them all.

“Wow. You know what, you would be good at tennis, or squash, or cricket, even. If you used a fraction of the celerity you just used to catch that chocolate, you’d do well. You could easily get fit.”

Diane shook her head; her blue eyes awash with amber specks. “Celerity? What is it with people and their big words today? Seriously. Just speak plain English.”

Nick draped his arms around her waist and chuckled. “I’m sorry, honey. Again. Celerity means swiftness, or speed.”

Celerity – Swiftness; speed

Author: chocotales

I am a writer who is passionate about words. I find them magical and seductive. I write short stories, poetry, and non fiction. I'm currently working on my first novel.

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