Chapter 10

By Wednesday, you have purchased a membership. The gym is larger than you expected, with long rows of cardiovascular equipment overlooking the main exercise floor, a sprawling collection of resistance machines, and a separate free-weight section dominated by squat racks, benches, and stacks of iron plates.

Your wife accompanies you on your first visit, proudly introducing you to the front-desk attendant and giving you a quick tour of the facility. Music pulses from overhead speakers, blending with the metallic clatter of weights and the steady mechanical rhythm of exercise machines. The air carries the familiar mixture of disinfectant, rubber flooring, and sweat.

You notice almost immediately that the cardiovascular machines occupy a slightly elevated platform along the rear wall. From there, the entire gym is visible, including the exercise stations your wife favors and the free-weight area where Grudge apparently spends most of his time. You select a high StairMaster near the back. It proves to be an excellent choice.

The machine allows you to exercise at a comfortable pace while surveying almost the entire gym. You can watch people moving between stations, observe the trainers working with clients, and keep an eye on your wife without interfering with her routine.

The back wall position also means that you are unlikely to attract much attention yourself. Most people are too occupied with their own workouts to notice the middle-aged newcomer steadily climbing an imaginary staircase. Your wife seems pleased to have you there. She waves occasionally as she moves between machines.

Once she comes over to check whether you are enjoying yourself. You assure her that the exercise is going well, although you suspect your leisurely pace would disappoint anyone expecting a particularly demanding workout. "Don't overdo it," she advises, smiling. "I don't want to have to carry you home."

You promise to exercise responsibly. She laughs, gives your arm an affectionate squeeze, and returns to the weight room. From your elevated position, you watch her walk away. You have always considered your wife beautiful, but seeing her in this environment reminds you of aspects of her appearance that familiarity has allowed you to take for granted.

She moves with confidence, comfortable among the machines and familiar with the rhythms of the gym. She knows exactly where she is going, how to adjust the equipment, and how much weight she intends to lift. There is something quietly impressive about watching her concentrate on an activity she genuinely enjoys, particularly when she seems unaware that you are admiring her.

Then you notice Grudge. He is standing near the free weights, unmistakable even from across the room. Your wife's descriptions have prepared you for a large man, but they have not entirely captured the extraordinary breadth of his shoulders or the heavy, imposing proportions of his body. He wears a faded black tank top that leaves most of his tattooed arms exposed, with loose gray sweatpants and battered work boots.

His shaved head gleams beneath the fluorescent lights, and his thick black beard makes his already formidable face appear even more intimidating. You watch him load another plate onto a barbell. He moves with the casual assurance of someone who has spent years handling enormous weights. There is nothing particularly graceful about him, but his movements suggest immense strength and familiarity with the equipment.

When he bends to adjust his weights, his shirt rides up over the thick curve of his belly, revealing more tattoos. He straightens, rolls his shoulders, and glances across the room. His eyes settle on your wife. You feel an immediate tightening in your cock. Grudge does not approach her. He does not shout, gesture, or attempt to interrupt her workout.

He simply stares at her ass while she adjusts the seat on a machine, his expression difficult to read at this distance. After several seconds, he turns back toward his barbell. You tell yourself that there is nothing unusual about a man checking out a woman in the gym. Then he looks again. This time, his attention lingers long enough to make the direction of his gaze unmistakable.

Your wife appears entirely unaware of him..You continue climbing. Over the next several days, a peculiar routine establishes itself. You arrive at the gym with your wife, exchange a few affectionate remarks while she prepares for her workout, and settle onto your preferred StairMaster. She moves through her usual exercises while you maintain a comfortable pace and enjoy the view.

Sometimes you bring headphones, although you rarely bother playing anything through them. The music from the gym's speakers provides sufficient background noise, and you find the activity on the exercise floor far more interesting than anything you might listen to. There are no further confrontations.

Grudge does not approach your wife, and she makes no attempt to speak to him. When their paths cross, they behave like strangers who have silently agreed to avoid another unpleasant encounter. She continues using whichever machines she needs, and he appears to have abandoned his habit of reserving several pieces of equipment, at least when she is around.

Nevertheless, you begin noticing something that your wife has not mentioned. Grudge watches her. He watches when she crosses the room, when she adjusts the equipment, and when she pauses to drink from her water bottle. Sometimes his attention is brief and almost casual. At other times, he follows her movements with an unmistakably leering expression.

His eyes travel over her figure with a lack of discretion that would embarrass most men. You see him watching her reflection in the mirrors behind the weight racks. You see him turn his head as she walks past. Once, while speaking to another large man near the benches, he glances toward your wife and says something that makes his companion laugh.