I started with a five-minute, warm-up walk on the treadmill. Ah, this isn’t so bad. I felt good, so I eagerly moved across to the exercise bike for a twenty-minute, fat-burning cycle on a low setting, again, easing myself back into it.
After my subtle fat-burning cycle, I figured I would try some light weights. I was pretty sure my muscle mass had packed its bags and pissed off elsewhere, due to having basically neglected to use my muscles for anything of late, including sex, thanks to Bryce. So the loss of my flexed biceps saddened me. I gave them a little jiggle. I’m pretty sure they are not supposed to just wobble and flap like that. I gave them another jiggle. I’m pretty sure I look like an idiot.
I dropped my arms self-consciously, glad that City Towers was one of the taller buildings in the vicinity and that no-one else could see me standing on the roof top with my arms out, wobbling my arm fat and resembling some nutcase practising a new weird-arsed dance move.
Disgusted and embarrassed by my arm-flabbiness, I was now keen to get reacquainted with the weight machine in front of me. I executed some lateral pull-downs, chest presses and bicep curls then switched to my lower body and carried out a couple of leg extensions, abductor crunches and leg presses. Bryce also had a cross trainer, so I opted to finish off on that, running at a low level for 10 minutes. That was when he came out with a horrified look on his face.
I smiled at him, but his look didn’t change, so I slowed down my strides to ask him what was wrong. “Is everything alright?”
“I don’t think you should be exercising on your own. Why didn’t you wake me?” He leaned up against the weight machine and crossed his arms over his abdomen.
“Because you were sleeping soundly, and I thought that since I need to get used to waking at different hours, I’d get up, do a work out, then cook you breakfast.” I slowed to a stop, took a long swig of my water and stepped off the machine.
As I took that final step down, my legs nearly gave way and I stumbled slightly into Bryce’s waiting arms. “What the fuck, Alexis? Are you trying to kill yourself and our child?” he yelled angrily.
“Of course not. Don’t be silly,” I said a little shocked. “My legs just need a second to remember how to work again, that’s all.”
“Exactly, you haven’t worked out in a while. You need to take it easy. Should you even be working out at all?” he asked with an accusatory tone. A tone I did not like.
“Yes, it’s fine. I just need to do a little, a little more often.”
“Well from now on, you are not doing it without me, got it?”
“Bryce you’re being ridiculous.” And annoyingly bossy.
“No, I’m not.” He opened my water bottle and not so subtly requested I drink some more. I snatched the bottle from his hands and released myself from his grip.
“I told you, exercising is fine. It’s perfectly safe, and I’m going to continue to do it with or without you. I will not allow myself to undo all the hard work I’ve put in over the past few years.” I walked past him and headed to the kitchen.
“Alexis, I’m just trying to keep you both safe.”
He followed behind me, stopping at the other side of the bench. I’d pre-made the fruit salad, so moved it toward him without saying a word. I cracked a few eggs into a frying pan and toasted some bread while the eggs cooked. Thankfully, the fact I was now pissed off effectively distracted me from the possibility of vomiting.
“Alexis.”
“What?” I still refused to look at him as I continued cooking breakfast.
I had placed some bacon under the griller on low before I started my work out, and it was now perfectly crisp. I pulled it out and arranged it on the plate then scooped the eggs from the pan and placed them onto the slices off buttered toast.
“Hunny, please look at me.” His voice had softened so I looked up. “Maybe you should stop exercising until we speak to Dr. Rainer?”
“So, this is how it’s going to be, is it? You are going to completely ignore everything I say until you get Dr. Rainer’s approval?”
He didn’t say anything, so I shoved his breakfast in front of him and stormed off toward our bedroom. I had suddenly lost my appetite.
CHAPTER THREE
Reeling from Bryce’s blatant disregard for my knowledge of what is and isn’t safe during pregnancy, I turned on the taps to the shower and removed my sweat dampened clothes. I didn’t appreciate being treated like a child. I was not a child, nor was I a naive and inexperienced first-time mum. I knew what I could and couldn’t do; I knew my limits. I also knew that if I didn’t watch what I ate and stayed somewhat physically active, I was bound to pile on the weight, ache all over and become mentally depressed again.