Oh My Belle

Flight or Fight

Andrea's POV

Antonio Barone was a popular Italian gym instructor known for helping fat, obese and chubby women and men achieve their desired bodies.

Maybe to him, I looked like a new project in dire need of his help, considering how unkempt and disheveled I looked.

“I usually come here to have dinner and last night, I might have witnessed your altercation with…what is his name again? Is it Zayn?” He grinned widely, showing not even an iota of sympathy.

Antonio didn't stop there, he continued his goal to shred the remnant of my self-confidence. “I have to agree with Zayn breaking things off with you. A woman your age shouldn't lose herself in eating away her sorrows. Trust me, I've been in your shoes and almost died before it dawned on me to work on myself.”

Rendered speechless by his glorified insult masked as words of motivation, I clapped back. “Mr. Barone, I'm good. I don't need to exercise to be loved. But thank you, for your words of motivation.”

Antonio relented, handing me his business card. “Call me in case you change your mind.”

I squeezed the card, shoving it in the back of my jeans pocket, forgetting about it the moment I arrived home.

I was halfway eating through the last batch of my stashed bucket sized ice cream when the doorbell rang. My girls were here, Lena and Sierra had arrived just in time to listen to my tales of woes.

After narrating what went down between me and Zayn, I allowed them to curse him out, their voices overlapping each other.

“That reminds me, Lena's new man finally proposed!” Sierra proclaimed loudly.

“Lena! Come here girl!” I hugged my friend, basking in the good news. At least one of us got our happily ever after.

Sierra and I had pressured Lena on countless occasions to introduce us to her new man so we could see for ourselves if he was worth our girl, but she refused to make the introductions. Since it was her privacy, we respected her boundaries.

“Show us the ring we want to see.” Sierra poked, pulling the folded hand which she hid behind her out.

The ring was a beautiful diamond cut, the exact same design as the one I wanted Zayn to use when proposing to me.

I sniffed, unable to curtail my emotions. “I can't believe Zayn dumped me because I added a few pounds.”

Lena barked angrily, “It's his loss, Andy. His loss…”

I felt assured, knowing I would always have my girls in my corner. They were my ride or die, and I wouldn't trade them for anything in the world, food inclusive.

Lena looked ethereal in her floating pearl wedding dress, with Sierra and me as her maid of honor and forever cheerleaders. It was time to walk down the aisle with the bride, when my eyes darted to the man on the altar.

At first, I thought I was hallucinating, seeing things. But when I looked again, it was Zayn on the altar, all smiles, his gaze fixated on Lena. Sierra tried to hold me, stop me from creating a scene, but all I could see was red.

I choked out, hurt seeping from my voice. “Is Zayn your mystery man?”

Lena held her bouquet of flowers close to her chest, her doe shaped eyes gleaming with tears, playing the victim to perfection.

She whimpered with fake remorse.“ I wanted to tell you, I swear. But I didn't want you to hate me.”

Lena was the first to know when Zayn and I started dating, and she was my biggest supporter. I involved her in my life, made her a solicitor whenever Zayn and I had unresolved problems because she was a mutual friend to the both of us.

Not in my wildest dreams did I picture myself getting thrown under the bus by my best friend.

Seeing through her tardy lies, I called her out. “Drop the act and tell me the reason?!”

The pain I felt was worse than when Zayn ended things with me. It ran deep, striking the very core of my existence. The mask on Lena's face fell off, a senile smile playing on her face.

“Because Zayn likes his women looking slim, not fat and overweight. I mean, did you really believe he would take you to the altar when you look like…this.” She dragged her gaze from my head all the way down to my feet, clicking her tongue disappointedly.

The charade was over, I saw her for who she really was, a snake. In the fit of rage, I pushed her on the floor. The wedding intro came to a halt as shocked gasps erupted everywhere.

Zayn's attention drawn to the debacle came to play the macho savior. He tugged on his tie, his face red with fury on seeing his bride sprawled on the floor.

Instead of going on his knees to beg for my forgiveness, he dared to confront me, “Don't make me call security. Leave while I'm still being nice.”

Sierra rushed to help Lena up from the floor, wiping the streak of mascara off her cheeks. I looked at her, in the hopes that she would side with me, but it was obvious whose side she was on.

Ten years of friendship, ten years of crying, laughing, holding each other's hands through the bad times all went down the drain. I had lost everything, my relationship, my friends…

I held up a maxi size cup of ice cream, the spoon hovering at the entrance of my lips when I stopped myself from indulging. Things started to fall apart with a spoon full of ice cream, an extra portion of rice, and I wasn't going to get better if I continued down this path of self-destruction.

Frantically, I searched my hamper for my jean trousers. It was a relief that I hadn't done laundry yet. The card of Antonio Barone was still buried in my back pocket, unscathed. I dialled his number, holding my breath. He picked on the first ring.

“I knew you would call.” He asserted in a tone that made me picture his smug face.

This wasn't the time for me to be pissed by his arrogant depiction. I was the one who needed him, not the other way around.

I swallowed my pride and went to the point. “I need your help, I'm ready to do whatever it takes to return to my old self.”

“Meet me at Gym 207, I'll be waiting.”

Gym 207 was one of the many gym establishments owned by Antonio Barone. Watching women lift weights, their faces scrunched with veins popping out, was making me have second thoughts if the journey I was about to embark on was a good idea.

Antonio whispered into my ear from behind. “This is the beginning of what I have in store for you, if you do not make use of the exit door. Which one is it, flight or fight?”

I stared at the door and then back at the women who moved through the weights with determination and answered.

“Fight.”