PART 3 – CHAPTER 155
JESS
The hum of the engine filled the silence as I stared out the passenger window, watching the blurred scenery of the city slowly give way to the sprawling suburbs. My stomach was in knots, but I tried to focus on the trees, the occasional jogger, anything to distract myself. It wasn’t working. The closer we got to my parents‘ house, the tighter the tension wound in my chest.
I had told Aiden–repeatedly–that I should go alone. This was my family, and today was Josh’s birthday. Aiden and Josh aren’t exactly the best of friends. Luke probably poisoned that well.
But trying to tell Aiden that felt like yelling into the wind. He didn’t listen. He just showed up, packed himself into the car, and said, “I’m coming,” in that final tone of his.
So I let it go.
Fighting with him was exhausting, but he always made it up to me afterward. Multiple times, multiple orgasms or presents.
Aiden glanced at me, his profile sharp in the sunlight as he steered with one hand. “How many miles this week?”
I sighed, knowing where this was going. “Forty–five.
He raised an eyebrow, a disapproving look crossing his face. “Forty–five? You should’ve hit fifty by now, Jess. What happened?”
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I stayed quiet, biting my tongue. I didn’t need this right now, not on the way to Josh’s birthday, not with all the other things rattling around in my head. But Aiden wasn’t the type to drop it.
“Look, I’m just saying,” he continued, his voice sharper now. “If you want to stay at the top, you can’t slack off. You’ve been getting all this attention lately–magazine features, sponsors- and now you start slacking?”
I pressed my lips together, feeling the sting of his words sink in. My chest tightened, and I felt the familiar weight of guilt. Yes, I’d been featured in Runner’s Elite, and yes, my social media had blown up overnight, but I wasn’t running for that. I wasn’t doing this for the attention.
But Aiden didn’t see it that way.
I turned my gaze out the window, watching the trees blur past. “I’m not slacking,” I muttered, more to myself than to him.
“What was that?” His voice took on that hard edge, making me feel like I was walking on thin ice.
“Nothing,” I said, louder this time, trying to keep the frustration from creeping into my voice.
He reached over, taking my hand, squeezing it like he was trying to reassure me. “Look, Jess, I just want you to succeed. You have so much potential, and I know you can do better than this. I push you because I care about you. Don’t you see that? We could be this unstoppable couple. I know I have a sure shot with the Olympics next year, and so do you if you just focus.”
I nodded, but inside, my thoughts were tangled. Yes, Aiden had pushed me back into running when I was ready to quit. He’d
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been there, telling me I could make something of myself again. And he wasn’t wrong–I had. I was running competitively, gaining sponsorships, and living a life I hadn’t dreamed of before. I was financially free, living in a condo by the beach, my face plastered on the cover of magazines. But I didn’t want that. The more I succeeded, the less I wanted to run.
I hadn’t started running again for the fame or the money. I ran because it gave me something back that I had lost–something personal, something mine.
But Aiden didn’t see that. To him, it was about performance. Progress. Always pushing further, faster, harder. He made it sound like he wanted the best for me, but sometimes it felt like he just wanted control.
“I know,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the hum of the car. “I know you want me to be successful.”
Aiden squeezed my hand again, his thumb rubbing small circles over my knuckles. It should’ve felt comforting, but instead, it felt suffocating.
“Good,” he said, his voice softening. “Because I see how great you can be, Jess. You’re not just some girl running for fun. You‘ re the real deal.”
I forced a smile, though the knot in my stomach twisted tighter. I didn’t want to argue. I didn’t have the energy to explain, to make him see the part of me that just wanted to run because I Toved it, not because I had to. So, like so many other times, I let
it go.
We drove in silence for the next few minutes, the tension in the car thickening. I tried to focus on anything but the weight
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pressing down on me.
I stared out the window again, b events. Everyone kept telling me for my parents to come back ho sitting at a table with strangers you do about them.
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pressing down on me.
I stared out the window again, bracing myself. I hated family events. Everyone kept telling me loved them and couldn’t wait for my parents to come back home, but now… now it’s like sitting at a table with strangers who know more about you you do about them.
than
PART 3 – CHAPTER 156
