Secrets Want To Be Shared

      I know something she doesn’t. Something important. There’s an oddly satisfying sense of power in that.

           While I watch Olivia effortlessly peddling away on the exercise bike, she seems flawless. Her slender arms stretch up, her wavy blonde ponytail bounces side to side, and her legs keep a steady rhythm. No one could argue her beauty or how well put together she is. So much prettier than I am. So much more put together than I am.

           Although no one really looks happy at a gym, Olivia’s sadness is noticeable. A sadness I’ve caused, though she doesn’t know it. She doesn’t know anything about me. Right now, I’m just some weirdo intensely staring at her while huffing and puffing on a treadmill. I hate gyms. I also hate that I’ve done this to her. She doesn’t deserve it. I’d never expect her to understand because of how personal it is. Could she objectively? Did she love her husband that much? I’m not foolish enough to believe I alone am the only person who has ever known love. Obviously, I’m not. Sometimes it feels like no one could understand just how much I love Kyle though. I’d do anything for him, and that sounds like something everyone says, but the honesty in that is deeper than anyone appreciates. I don’t want to be like this, but I don’t know how to stop. Even my doubts that this love is truly reciprocated, aren’t enough to stop me.

           Olivia stops peddling and steps off the bike. Despite her hard work, not a bead of sweet drips down her perfect skin. I know she’ll be heading towards the cleaning station. She’s thoughtful like that. I quickly stop the treadmill. I shouldn’t approach her. I shouldn’t be here. Yet, my feet gravitate towards her. Secrets want to be shared.

           “I like your shirt,” I say while pulling off a paper towel. She’s wearing a pink tank top with white flowers. It matches her white leggings.

           “Thanks,” she half smiles.

           “Are you okay?” I ask.

           Her icy blue eyes question me.

           “I know it’s not my business or anything, but you seem a little sad is all.”

           She sighs. I notice her fingers twisting the golden ring on her left hand. “My husband is missing.”

           I know where he is. I’ve taken him. “Oh, wow. That’s…”

           “Strange. Shocking. It’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever gone through. He never came home. I called the police, but I’m not sure how serious they’re taking it.”

           “Why wouldn’t they take it seriously?”

           “I don’t know. They might think he left willingly. Had an affair or something. We…did have some problems.”

           There also might be evidence to support that. “Wow, I’m so sorry.”

           “Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be putting all this on you. I don’t even know you.” She shakes her head and rubs a finger under her eye. She’s not wearing makeup. She’s way too pretty to need it.

           I understand that feeling of needing to talk about something so badly that at the first chance the mouth dam breaks. My phone buzzes. I ignore it. “It’s fine. It’s good to let it out.”

           My phone buzzes again. Then again. I give an apologetic look as I glance at the screen.

           Evan: Why aren’t you answering your phone?

           Evan: I called five times.

           Evan: Where are you?

           “Are you okay?” Olivia asks.

           “I…uh, yeah. It’s…a…my boss. He’s a very controlling man.” I’m bad at lying. The only way I can is to make it as close to the truth as possible. Is this close enough?

           “What do you do for work?”

           It’s an obvious response that I somehow didn’t anticipate. I need to lie. “A…uh, floral shop.”

           Olivia gives me a look that suggests she now knows something. Between my lies she has uncovered a clue, and that’s why I shouldn’t be talking to her.

           “I had an ex like that once. You know, there’s a new smoothie place down the street. You want to try it?”

           I can’t. If I don’t get back to Evan─

           “Don’t worry about him,” Olivia reads my mind.

           I’m in trouble. “Uh…I guess so.”

           “Great! It’s so good to have someone to talk to.”

           “Yeah,” I mutter as my phone buzzes again. If Olivia knew what I knew, she wouldn’t be inviting me for a smoothie. She’d probably be bashing me over the head with a 50lb weight.

           After cleaning up and changing, we walk over. My phone buzzes almost every step and my heart beats faster and faster. My mind flips through worst case scenarios at a dizzyingly fast speed. There’s a haze around the world signaling everything is out of focus.

           Then a memory takes over like I’ve stepped into another world. Kyle rides a bike with a rope tied to the lime green frame. I grab the other end of the rope. My feet are on a skateboard. As I glide around this concrete ocean like I’m a wakeboarder and he is the boat, I smile so much my face aches. I’m riding the Bob Burnquist pro deck he got me for our two-year anniversary. Still, I’m as giddy as the day we met. When he looks at me, my whole body feels weak and light. I think I need weighted sneakers, or I might float away like a balloon. To be honest, I always long for our relationship to reach that moment where the eagerness dissipates and a warm, soothing comfort takes over. No one can handle such prolonged intensity and keeping it up could break me. It only gets stronger. There are cracks in my being from all the pressure. I desperately seek to leak it out in passionate affection, but it’s never enough. How can he not feel the same? It doesn’t make sense.

           “My name’s Olivia by the way. What’s yours?”

           Have we been walking in silence, or has she been talking this whole time? I feel like I’ve woken from a deep sleep and am not sure if I’m back to reality yet.

           “Laney.”

           “Is that still him?” Olivia asks. “Look, I don’t think there’s any way the floral industry is this intense.”

           I glance at my phone. Twenty-five missed calls, and fourteen missed messages.

           “Like I’ve said, I’ve dealt with a guy like this. I want to help you,” Olivia says with genuine looking concern.

           Trust me, Olivia, you’ve never dealt with a man like Evan. I hope you never do.

           “I’m sorry. I really need to call him back. I’ll just be a minute.”

           Olivia bites her thumb nail and furrows her eyebrow. “Whatever he says, I’m here.”

           She reaches out and holds my free hand. It’s obvious she thinks Evan is some abusive boyfriend. When I disappear as abruptly as her husband, the cops might be able to track him down. I doubt it though.

           I dial. My heart is throbbing in my ears. I can’t hear anything.

           “Where the fuck are you?”

           “Hi Evan. You having a bad day?”

           “Don’t! You know the consequences.”

           “I do.”

           “Did you do what I asked?”

           “I did.”

           “Where is he?”

           “I can’t say right now.”

           “People are around?”

           “Yes.”

           “You have proof he is taken care of?”

           “I do.”

           “You’ll bring it to me now?”

           “Later I promise.”

           “Why not now?”

           “Can I just talk to Kyle? Please.”

           “When you bring me the proof, assuming it’s sufficient, you can talk to him.”

           I want to leave Olivia on the street and run so fast I break through some barrier of time like a superhero. I’d do anything for Kyle. I picture Olivia's husband, laying in a puddle of blood begging for his life while I stab a knife into his neck. I’d even murder some sweet woman’s husband for a deranged cult leader if it meant five minutes with Kyle. Which is probably all I’ll get.

           I gave Kyle all the love in the world. He picked a psycho brotherhood instead. I still can’t stop.