Chapter 1

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror in nothing but black lace. La Perla. The kind of underwear that cost more than most people's grocery bills. The kind I used to feel powerful in.

Tonight, I just felt exposed.

Thirty-three wasn't supposed to feel old. I could still deadlift 200 pounds. Still run a 7-minute mile. Still close deals that made grown men sweat. But staring at my reflection, all I saw were the things that had changed. The cellulite on my thighs. The stretch marks on my hips. Fifteen pounds that had crept on over the past two years while I'd been building FlexHer from seven locations to... what would be twelve by next quarter.

Fifteen pounds that apparently mattered more than I thought.

I pushed away from the mirror and walked into the bedroom. Jace was already there, scrolling through his phone. My husband of five years. Twenty-six years old, eight-pack abs, face that could sell protein powder. Which it did, actually. Eighty thousand Instagram followers and counting.

We'd just had sex. If you could call it that.

He'd spent most of it watching himself in the mirror on the opposite wall. Not me. Himself. Checking his form like he was doing reps. When he finished, he'd rolled off and grabbed his phone before I could even catch my breath.

Now he was lying there, thumb moving across the screen, barely acknowledging I'd come back into the room.

"Hey," I said, sliding onto the bed beside him.

He glanced up. "Hey."

I moved closer, trailing my fingers along his arm. His very impressive arm. The one I used to love wrapping around me. "Round two?"

"I'm beat, babe."

"Come on." I leaned in, pressing against him. "We've got time."

He shifted away. Not dramatically. Just enough. "Kira. I said I'm tired."

The rejection stung. We used to be insatiable. Now I had to practically beg.

"You weren't too tired twenty minutes ago."

"Yeah, well." He didn't look up from his phone. "Not everyone can afford to let themselves go, Kira."

The words hit like a fist to the gut.

Let myself go?

I froze. "What did you just say?"

"Nothing." He was still scrolling. "I'm just saying, you know, we both work in fitness. We should look the part."

"I gained fifteen pounds building a seven-figure business." My voice came out sharper than I meant it to. "Our business."

"I know. I'm not trying to start a fight." He finally looked at me, and his expression was almost kind. Almost. "I'm just trying to help you be your best self."

And that made me... what? Unlovable?

I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. Instead, I turned away and pulled the covers up. "Fine. Forget it."

"Don't be like that."

"Like what? I'm going to sleep."

He sighed, but he didn't argue. Just went back to his phone.

I lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling. My throat felt tight. When did I stop being enough for him? When did fifteen pounds become a dealbreaker?

I was still lying there when his phone lit up on the nightstand. The screen glowed, showing a text notification.

Zara: can't wait for our private session tomorrow 😈

My stomach dropped.

Before I could even process it, Jace grabbed the phone. Fast. Too fast.

"Just work stuff," he muttered, already sliding out of bed.

"At eleven at night?"

"It's a client. They text whenever." He was walking toward the bathroom. "I'm gonna take a shower."

"You already showered."

"Yeah, well, I'm taking another one."

The bathroom door closed. Then I heard the lock click.

I stared at the closed door.

Zara.

I knew exactly who that was. Zara Thorne. Twenty years old. TikTok fitness influencer with a million and a half followers. Perfect abs. Perfect ass. Perfect everything. She'd been training at FlexHer for three months. Always with Jace. Always after hours. Always the last client of the day.

"She's so dedicated," he'd told me. "Really committed to her fitness journey."

Her fitness journey.

Right.

I heard water running in the bathroom. Then his voice, low and muffled. He was on the phone.

I got up and moved closer to the door. Pressed my ear against it.

"...yeah, 6AM works," he was saying. "No, she won't know. She's got that investor meeting downtown."

My heart was pounding now. She won't know. She. Me.

"I'll bring the protein shakes you like," he continued. "The vanilla ones."

Protein shakes. At 6AM. For a "training session."

I backed away from the door.

Maybe I was paranoid. Maybe he really was just training her. Maybe I was the problem.

Or maybe not.

I didn't want to go there. Didn't want to consider what my gut was screaming.

The water shut off.

I scrambled back to bed, sliding under the covers just as the bathroom door opened. Jace came out, towel around his waist, looking perfect as always. He didn't even glance at me as he dried off and pulled on boxers.

"Night," he said, getting into bed.

"Night."

He was asleep within minutes. Or pretending to be.

I lay there in the dark, listening to his breathing even out. My mind was racing. Five years of marriage. Five years of building this life together. I'd found him working at a rundown community gym, barely scraping by. I'd brought him into FlexHer. Trained him. Promoted him. Made him somebody.

And now...

I looked over at him. His face was peaceful in sleep. Innocent, even.

I didn't want to know. Part of me wanted to pretend tonight never happened.

But I couldn't.

I waited until his breathing evened out. Then I picked up his laptop.