Episode 3

Today I feel different. With renewed energy, as if a dangerous spark has awakened me from the emotional tomb in which I found myself. I spent the whole weekend in front of the computer, cell phone in hand, researching, investigating, observing every post of the soon-to-be wife of Stefan. So naive and presumptuous, that without realizing it she gave me the most valuable clue of all: the adored gym she usually goes to and which her father-in-law has coincidentally started frequenting.

In more than five photos, I have seen Stefan's father, right in the background of the images. Always at the same time, always in the same place. A man who seems not to belong to this world of lights and social media, someone serious, powerful, reserved. Almost a mystery.

And I have already found a way to get closer to him.

The membership cost half of my savings. Crazy, yes, but nothing is too expensive when it comes to revenge, plus, the faster I manage to catch him, the sooner I can cancel the membership and recover some of what I paid.

Right now I'm in the gym bathroom, in front of the mirror illuminated with overly white lights. I carefully retouch my lipstick, a discreet and shiny pink with a cherry flavor, enough to give strength to my smile without it looking vulgar at this time of the morning. I retouch my eyeliner and loosen my hair a little, letting it fall naturally over my shoulders. I want to look carefree, fresh, and not show that behind this image there is a plan calculated down to the last detail.

I know it for sure: I'm not going to catch him with my body alone. He must be surrounded by beautiful women, exuberant beauties who probably offer him everything without asking for anything. If I want him to look at me, I must give him more. I must intrigue him, make him laugh, make him think of me when he is not near.

I lean towards the mirror and give myself a last smile. It's not the smile of the broken Emma who cried herself to sleep. No. It is the smile of a woman who is about to move her first piece in a dangerous game.

I take a deep breath, arrange the towel over my shoulder and leave the bathroom. The gym is full, the sound of machines and pop music envelop everything. My eyes move fast, searching among the sweaty bodies, among the weights that go up and down.

And then I see him.

There he is. Tall, imposing, completely focused on his routine as if the world around him did not exist. His mere presence imposes, gives off a magnetism that makes my skin crawl.

I smile to myself. Now the game begins.

The gym smells of effort, sweat, and expensive perfume. The metallic noise of the machines mixes with the background music, too loud for my taste. I move calmly, pretending that I am here just to train.

I see him out of the corner of my eye. He's in his world, focused on his routine, as if nothing and nobody could distract him. At first glance he looks so different from Stefan... he doesn't waste time showing off, he just moves with precision, with the strength of someone who knows what he's doing.

I decide it's the moment. I walk towards the weight rack, right next to him. My heart beats fast, but my expression is cold, almost bored. I reach out and choose a dumbbell. I pull and pretend I can't move it. I make a second attempt, exaggerating a little, as if it really costs me. Nothing.

I then feel his presence behind me. A shadow that covers me and a deep voice that brushes against my skin.

"Do you need help?"

I turn around just enough to give him a quick glance. His face is serene, his blue eyes observe me calmly, without the slightest effort to seem sympathetic.

"It's not necessary, thank you," I reply with a hint of disinterest, I give him a polite smile, nothing more, turning my eyes back to the rack.

I make one last pull and the dumbbell is released with a dry thud. I take it in my hand naturally, as if I had always known that I could do it. He says nothing, simply returns to his training.

I, with all the calm in the world, occupy a nearby space. Far enough away to seem casual, but close enough for him to see me. I start to exercise, but I have no real idea what I'm doing. Right at that moment, an instructor approaches.

"First time here?" He asks me with a friendly smile.

I nod with a gesture and let him guide me. He puts his hands on me, indicates the posture and counts the repetitions. I feign concentration, although every now and then I look away towards him, towards my objective. And I realize something: he's watching me.

The instructor makes a correction and I, taking advantage of the moment, make a funny comment, one of those that sound spontaneous. The trainer laughs, shaking his head, and I smile satisfied to see that my target does not lose sight of us.

Suddenly, the trainer leaves me alone.

"Keep going, I'll be right back," he says before walking away.

I see him leave and I want to scream at him no, hit me with something on the head that makes me regain my senses and give up the idea of ​​wanting to seduce a man who is almost twice my age.

I take a deep breath, take the weight and continue the exercise as best I can.

Then I hear that deep voice again.

"The back," he says, without looking at me directly. "It must be straighter when going down."

I pretend not to have heard. I lower it again clumsily, as if I were absorbed in the effort.

He gets up. I feel him getting closer, so close that his shadow covers me again.

"Straighter or you'll hurt yourself," he repeats calmly. He shows me how to do it, lowering a little and marking the movement with his own body.

I take advantage of the moment. I straighten my back, turn my head towards him and smile mischievously.

"Is this okay, professor?" I ask in a light, almost mocking tone.

He barely tilts his lips, a shadow of a smile that doesn't quite come together, but that in him is powerful.

"Better," he replies with simplicity.

I decide to raise the stakes a bit. Between repetitions, I let out a feigned sigh.

"I didn't know that coming to the gym included physical and psychological torture..." I murmur theatrically, looking at him out of the corner of my eye.

He looks at me, and for the first time I notice a change. His attention slides to my lips, just an instant, fleeting, but enough to electrify me. He returns to my eyes quickly, as if nothing had happened, but I already saw it.

He leans in a little towards me.

"Nobody forced you to come," he replies, in a calm voice.

"What if I tell you yes?" I launch, raising an eyebrow, while observing the drops of sweat sliding down his chest.

Damn, how can he look like that at his age?

"Who?" He asks curiously.

"I don't know... maybe a very serious guy who looks more like a KGB trainer than a gym buddy."

He lets out a brief, unexpected laugh. It is deep and completely innocent that there is some truth in my comment.

"I'm not a trainer."

"Oh, what a disappointment," I reply with false sorrow. "Then I'll have to keep risking my life alone with these weights."

He looks at me, and for the first time I notice a change. His attention slides to my lips, just an instant, fleeting, but enough to electrify me. He returns to my eyes quickly, as if nothing had happened, but I already saw it.

I drop the dumbbell gently, run my hand over my neck and tilt my head, stretching my body naturally. I don't need to look at him to know that he is watching me.

"You don't seem to be from here," he blurts out, directly.

"And what am I supposed to look like? A lost tourist?" I reply, raising an eyebrow.

"More like someone who doesn't come to the gym to train," he says in a neutral tone, but there's a glint in his eyes.

"Oh, of course. And what do I come for then?" I ask, smiling amused.

"That… I don't know yet."

I'm about to laugh, to let that spark grow, when my virtual watch vibrates on my wrist. It's the perfect excuse. I feign surprise, as if I had remembered something important.

"God... I have to go," I say in a hurried voice.

I gather my things with studied calm and turn towards him, giving him one last smile.

"Thanks for the impromptu class, professor. See you."

He opens his mouth, as if he were going to say something else, but I don't give him the opportunity. I turn around and walk towards the exit, leaving him with the word in his mouth.

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