Actual Stop (Agent O’Connor #1)(18)

I didn’t want to think about her. I didn’t want to get lost in memories of the good times we’d had because they only led to recollections of how easily Allison had been able to forget me, and that shattered me all over again. I didn’t want to relive every word and touch and look we’d shared. Well, I did, but even I was smart enough to know that, in the end, I’d only be hurting myself. Nothing good could come of it. So why bother?

I drew a ragged, frustrated breath. I don’t know if there ever would’ve been a good time for Allison to make a reappearance, but I was absolutely positive her timing couldn’t have been worse. Between the stress of an impending PPD visit, the looming Iran advance, and the lengthy case report due in a few days, I had more than enough on my mind. That I now had to add working closely with her to my list of potential distractions filled me with dread.

A strange, hollow ache in my chest made it hard to breathe, and every thump of my battered heart compounded that emptiness. It was time to stop. I couldn’t get sucked further into my current line of thinking; it was more dangerous than wading through quicksand. Sorrow, anger, and regret would undoubtedly drown me. I couldn’t handle that today. Not when I had to spend the entire day with the woman who’d made me feel this way.

No. This was unacceptable. I needed to change my outlook on life, and I needed to do it quickly, or the next few days would be utter torment. When Allison and I had been together, I’d spent a lot of time reacting badly to situations. I’d shed a lot of tears after she’d broken my heart and allowed bitterness and rage to fill the cracks her absence had left. I hadn’t been myself for a long time after that, and I was still ashamed that I’d fallen apart so completely and lost sight of who I was, who I wanted to be. Some of that had happened in front of her. The rest of it she never needed to know. And if I was going to keep whatever self-respect I had left, I needed to put on a good face and not let anything she said or did get to me. Probably easier said than done, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try.

Quietly, I crawled out of bed. I’d perfected my technique of dressing noiselessly in the dark, and today was just another chance to exercise those skills. I pulled on a sports bra, T-shirt, and shorts.

I needed to burn off some of this frustration. Nothing a trip to the gym wouldn’t fix. I jammed a hat onto my head and spent a few moments shoving my tangled hair underneath it. After a quick stop in the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth, I hurriedly gathered my keys, my phone, my iPod, the backpack I carried to work, and the gym bag I always had packed and ready to go. I slid the headphones on, chose a playlist I’d deliberately compiled to combat dour moods and bad days, and slipped out the front door, silently trying to convince myself this was the best day I’d ever had.

Nothing quite like the power of positive thinking.

*

At the ungodly hour I’d decided to start my day, there was almost no traffic, and I made it to the office a lot faster than usual. The gym was completely empty, so not only did I have my choice of machines, but I also got to pick the television stations. That improved my mood immensely. I could only take so much ESPN and CNN, and none of that limited tolerance extended to when I was trying to work out.

I started with some light calisthenics to warm up and then hopped on the treadmill. I hadn’t been kidding when I’d told Mark I hated running. I did. More than most things, actually. But running was one of the requirements for our quarterly physical-fitness tests, so I forced myself to do it. However, I was never pleased about it.

I spent a minute or so adjusting the settings of the treadmill to my liking, and then I zoned, running at a clip fast enough to challenge me but not make me pass out. I watched the television as I pounded along to the music blaring in my ears. I mouthed the words to the songs, wanting to sing as I ran but being just a little too winded to do so. I also carefully monitored my thoughts, lest they stray to unpleasant topics and undo all the work I’d just done.

I finished my four miles and moved on to the mat room to muscle my way through a grueling pyramid of push-ups, pull-ups, and sit-ups. I pushed myself extra hard, determined to keep distracted. Then I spent another few minutes stretching my entire body before I went to get ready for my day.

I said a few hellos to the guys who’d commandeered the television and flipped it to ESPN Sports Center and made my way to the locker room. My body felt rubbery, which I took as a sign that I’d done a good job tiring it out, and I sighed happily.

Alone in the locker room, I lost myself in the familiar routine of gathering my shower supplies and ironing my wrinkled shirt, singing along with my iPod as I did so. A few other gym bags lay strewn around, indicating that other women from the office were milling about somewhere, and I picked my way through them on my way to the shower.

The hot water sluicing over my body felt wonderful, and I took my time standing under the spray, letting it wash away my aches and cares. I had a while before I had to leave to pick up Allison at her hotel. No reason to rush into that storm before absolutely necessary.

Eventually, I got out of the shower and leisurely dried off, humming under my breath. The run had burned off some of my stress, and the good music had lifted my spirits. I was actually smiling as I donned my bra and panties, convinced that it was going to be a great day.

As I unwrapped the towel from around my head to rub at my wet hair, I felt a slight tug and heard the distant clatter of metal against tile. I froze, my eyes wide. I knew exactly what’d happened, but that didn’t stop me from putting a hand to my ear to confirm it.