Chapter 1 — Out of Place
Tess
Tess Monroe stood at the entrance of Momentum Fitness Studio, clutching the strap of her oversized tote bag like a lifeline. The building loomed before her, its floor-to-ceiling windows flaunting rows of impossibly fit people gliding on treadmills, their movements synchronized like the cast of some dystopian wellness ad. The faint hum of upbeat music seeped through the glass, accompanied by the rhythmic clank of weights. Her stomach churned, her pulse quickening with every second she hesitated.
What kind of person voluntarily walked into a place like this? Oh, right—apparently her.
Her phone screen blinked back at her, the email bold and accusatory: “Your consultation with Aiden Hart is scheduled for 4:00 PM.” It was 3:57. Three minutes to either walk in or turn around and invent an excuse convincing enough to email them later.
Her gaze flicked back to the windows. Inside, a grinning woman in a teal tank top waved goodbye to the receptionist as she passed a brightly lit bulletin board covered in flyers: charity fitness events, yoga fundraisers, and handwritten thank-you notes from gym-goers. Tess squinted at one flyer featuring a group of smiling people standing under a banner that read, “Stronger Together.”
Her stomach knotted tighter. Stronger together? She didn’t even feel strong on her own. A voice in her head whispered, You don’t belong here. This isn’t for you.
She exhaled sharply, her breath fogging the glass door in front of her. “Alright, Tess, you made it this far,” she muttered, her voice barely audible over the rush of blood in her ears. “It’s just a gym. A building full of dumbbells and... dumb decisions.”
Her attempt at humor fell flat, even to her own ears. She shook her head, her fingers brushing against the Laughing Olive Earrings dangling from her lobes. Nate had given them to her last Christmas, his exact words being, “For when you need to remember you’re the funniest person in the room, even if you’re too stubborn to admit it.” The tiny painted smiles of the mismatched olives jangled softly as she adjusted them, grounding her.
She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and stepped forward, pulling open the door before her courage wavered again.
The air inside was fresher than she expected, tinged with the subtle scent of eucalyptus and lemon. Polished wood floors gleamed under the natural light streaming through the windows, reflecting off chrome machines and mirrors so pristine they felt accusatory.
At the reception desk sat a young woman with a high ponytail, glowing skin, and the kind of aura that suggested she drank wheatgrass smoothies without flinching.
“Hi! Welcome to Momentum Fitness!” the receptionist chirped, her bright smile nearly eclipsing the overhead lights. “Are you here for a class or a consultation?”
Tess tightened her grip on her tote bag. “Consultation,” she said, then added, “Although unless you offer classes on how to trip over yoga mats without spraining your dignity, I might be in the wrong place.”
The receptionist blinked, her smile faltering for just a fraction of a second before recovering gracefully. “We don’t have that class yet, but I’ll suggest it! Just take a seat—Aiden will be with you shortly.”
Tess nodded and shuffled to a nearby bench, her whole body taut with the effort it took to stay put. The motivational murals on the walls seemed to mock her: “No Pain, No Gain.” “You Are Limitless!” Tess snorted softly. Limitless? She’d hit her limit just crossing the threshold of this place.
The hum of treadmills blended with bursts of laughter from a group class somewhere in the distance. She fidgeted with the strap of her tote bag, her thoughts spiraling. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe she could just... leave. She could email them, say something came up—
“Hey, Tess?”
The voice was deep and calm yet startlingly close. Her head jerked up, her heart thudding. Standing in front of her was a man—tall, broad-shouldered, with short dark hair and piercing blue eyes. His kind smile was disarming, entirely too genuine for someone who probably lived in a world of protein shakes and burpees.
“I’m Aiden Hart,” he said, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
For a moment, Tess forgot how to human. Then she scrambled to her feet, nearly tripping over her tote bag. “Oh! Hi! Yeah, I’m... me. I mean, I’m Tess. Hi.” She shook his hand quickly, silently cursing the clamminess of her palm.
If Aiden noticed, he didn’t let on. “You ready to get started?”
Tess forced a smile, her defense mechanism kicking in. “Depends. If ‘getting started’ involves me embarrassing myself in front of a room full of strangers, then yeah, let’s do it.”
Aiden chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “No worries, Tess. The only person you’re here to impress is yourself.”
The words hit her like a jolt, disarming her in a way she hadn’t expected. Impress herself? Was that even allowed?
She blinked, then nodded quickly. “Okay, but if I accidentally start a fire with one of your machines, I’m blaming you.”
“Fair enough,” he said with a grin. “Follow me.”
As they moved through the gym, Aiden’s stride was noticeably slower than hers, as though he’d already clocked her nervous energy. They passed rows of ellipticals and weight racks, the rhythmic hum of machinery blending with the upbeat music. She caught a glimpse of a small group huddled around a trainer who was demonstrating deadlifts, their laughter cutting through the clatter of weights.
Aiden led her to a quieter corner outfitted with yoga mats and resistance bands. “Alright,” he said, turning to face her. “Let’s start simple. What made you decide to come in today?”
Tess hesitated. The laugh she’d been ready to spit out sputtered and died on her lips. The truth hovered there, heavy and unwieldy. But something in Aiden’s expression—steady, patient, entirely free of judgment—made her exhale.
“I guess... I’m just tired,” she admitted, her voice quieter than she intended. “Tired of feeling like I don’t belong in places like this. Like my body’s some kind of problem that needs fixing.”
Aiden nodded, his gaze unwavering. “I hear you. And for the record, your body isn’t a problem. It’s yours. What we’re doing here is about helping you feel stronger and more confident in it. That sound okay?”
The knot in Tess’s chest loosened, just a little. “Yeah,” she said softly. “Okay.”
“Good.” Aiden smiled, the kind of smile that felt steadying rather than overwhelming. “Let’s keep it simple today—basic stretches and a quick tour of the equipment so you can get comfortable. Sound good?”
“Terrifying, but sure,” Tess said, earning another low chuckle from him.
The next thirty minutes were a strange mix of awkwardness and effort. Tess wobbled through stretches, grimaced through squats, and nearly toppled over holding a fifteen-second plank. But Aiden remained patient, correcting her form with thoughtful instruction. When she finally collapsed onto the mat, breathless but not defeated, he smiled. “Great job, Tess. Small wins add up.”
Her muscles felt like jelly, but beneath the exhaustion, she felt a flicker of pride. She’d survived. She hadn’t run away. That had to count for something.
“Same time next week?” Aiden asked as they walked back toward the entrance.
Tess hesitated, her inner voice screaming, “Are you serious right now?” But she nodded anyway. “Yeah. Same time.”
“Looking forward to it,” Aiden said, his smile widening. “And remember—progress, not perfection.”
Tess waved awkwardly as she stepped outside, the late afternoon breeze cooling her flushed cheeks. Whether the warmth in her face was from the workout or Aiden’s words, she wasn’t ready to admit.
Later that night, back in her apartment, the comforting hum of the city outside her window, Olive curled on the sill, Tess pulled out her sketchpad. Her fingers moved over the page, doodling an exaggerated version of herself battling a treadmill, her hair wild and her face cartoonishly horrified.
She paused, then flipped to a fresh page, sketching something different. A tiny figure, shaky but determined, crossing a small finish line with the words “Progress, not perfection” scrawled underneath.
It wasn’t much. But it was hers. And it was a start.
