The Only Way is Up

Part Nine

Chapter Nine

He hadn't replied, not commented and that was disconcerting. He'd shared a large chunk of himself over the weekend and Nicole had wanted to give him something back. And that one comment was meant to be a starting point of a conversation that she could control and direct. Instead Maxim was wearing a very unreadable expression as he nudged her in the direction of the mats in the corner.

After a gruelling round of ab crunches that made her want to cry, he finally spoke.

"You can't change FOR someone; you can only change for yourself."

She collapsed on to the mat needing to stretch her screaming abdominals, and had no choice but to digest that comment.

"I don't like the person I've become. This isn't me. I don't know why, what or who I'm trying to change for...there is a long list. But I'm sick of feeling useless, worthless."

His hand splayed over her thigh and she felt the need to vomit, it felt so...inappropriate, and she was already really anxious. Opening her eyes, she met his searching face, "you have to do this for you."

She pulled herself into sitting and was glad of him moving back, there was something very disconcerting about him touching her, ever since Kim had mentioned flirting, using him to get what she wanted, to get her confidence back.

Now he was pushing her mentally, challenging her, forcing her to think outside her comfort zone. Why was she doing this? Was it to make herself feel better, more desirable? Was it to show Vincent what he was missing? To get him back? Or was this so that she could face her parents without their total scorn?

She wasn't sure, and she wasn't sure whether a large part of this NOW was to keep face in front of Maxim himself.

She closed her eyes for a moment, not knowing what to think, or more importantly what to say.

"I don't mean to upset you; I just don't want to see you waste time...because if you do this for the wrong reasons...it'll fail Nicole. This has to be about you."

She sat up, "I'm doing this because I'm sick of being stuck in a rut, I'm sick of the world passing me by, and I'm sick of people judging me. Does that answer your question?"

He was silent for a long moment, then he nodded, reaching in his pocket he handed her a leaflet, "yoga. Think about it. Training isn't just about strength, cardio...it's about flexibility."

"I'm not flexible?" Could anything else be wrong with her?

Maxim jumped to his feet, then grabbed her right foot, lifting her leg he grinned at the expression on her face as she squirmed, "you young lady are out of shape. But that's nothing that the wonderful Ruth can't help you with. You'll go there?"

He lowered her leg and she let out the breath she was holding, "the last time I took your advice your sports masseuse nearly killed me. Why should I trust you this time?"

Offering a hand he hauled her to her feet, "because you KNOW I'm right."

Later he climbed the stairs in the corner of the gym to the almost windowless rooms that constituted his home for the last few days, and the runt of a dog appeared from the corner and nipped at his heels.

"Come on Gryaznyy, let's go for a run." A separate road led to the back alley and the two of them hit the darkened road at a jog. As he joined the road that housed the front door to the gym, he noticed a large saloon car parked across the road. The new number plates, the tinted windows...all meant one thing, his father.