Then I quickly left the kitchen. When I got to the bathroom, I finally managed to untangle the shirt. Before putting it on, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and was shocked, just like Paige had been earlier. My apartment only had a small mirror that barely showed enough to shave, so I hadn’t been paying much attention to my appearance.
After my disappointing experience on the scale, I had been avoiding mirrors altogether, preferring to remain in blissful ignorance. But this mirror covered the wall above the sink, reflecting my entire torso. I was stunned by what I saw. My chest had definition, and my midsection was noticeably slimmer.
The excess fat that used to stick out had flattened. My shoulders were broader, creating a more V-shaped physique. I wasn’t ready for a fitness magazine cover, but I looked far better than the out-of-shape version of myself I had been used to. For the first time, I saw an attractive man in the mirror, and that man was me.
Was this why Paige had been staring at me? Maybe she wasn’t disgusted. Maybe she was attracted. That moment in her bathroom was a turning point for me.
It was the first time I actually felt worthy. When I left the bathroom, I casually walked past her and said, “All right, Paige. I’m off. Have a good night.”
Her eyes lingered on me as I left, but this time I didn’t shy away from her gaze. I embraced it, though I pretended not to notice.
“Uh, good night, Artie,” she replied, her voice softer than usual.
With a newfound confidence, I walked out the door with a bit of a swagger. After that moment in Paige’s bathroom, I became more aware of the changes I had made without realizing it. I constantly compared myself to how I was when I first started. Some changes were obvious, like my clothes fitting differently.
My dress shirt collars were no longer tight around my neck, and my waist size had dropped from forty-four to thirty-six. Other changes were smaller, but still satisfying. I could bend down and get up more easily, tie my shoes without spreading my legs wide, and get in and out of the car without grunting. When Jerry saw me next, he noticed the change in my attitude.
The fatigue had lifted. The weights felt lighter. The treadmill was less daunting. And my energy levels soared.
I even found myself checking my reflection more often during workouts. Jerry caught on and couldn’t resist teasing me.
“Looks like someone finally noticed the results of his hard work,” he joked.
I laughed. “Yeah, you caught me.”
“Oh, go ahead and admire yourself,” he said, stepping aside dramatically. “I’m not in your way, am I, handsome?”
“No, you’re not, idiot. Thanks for asking,” I said, laughing so hard I had to stop lifting.
“Anytime, Your Highness. I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of love at first sight.”
For the first time, Jerry called me Your Highness without the usual snark. It was nice to joke around with him for a change, as he usually acted like a tough drill sergeant. Another significant change I noticed was how people interacted with me. They seemed friendlier, lingered a bit longer when they looked at me, and smiled more.
It might sound shallow, but I couldn’t deny it. Attractive people do get treated better. It’s a sad reality. I realized Paige wasn’t immune to this, either.
Ever since that night at her house, she’d been more attentive, smiling more, and even brushing her hair out of her face in a way that felt almost flirtatious. She stopped treating me with pity and started showing me respect. Everything came to a head on our separation anniversary. I had contacted my lawyer and gave the go-ahead to prepare the divorce papers.
I wanted them ready so Paige and I could move on. Instead of having her served, which felt impersonal, I decided to give them to her directly. We were in a good place, and I felt the end of our marriage deserved the same respect as its beginning. That night, I found her upstairs getting ready, possibly for another date.
She was in front of the mirror putting on earrings. I knocked on the door frame to get her attention.
“Oh, hey, Artie,” she said, turning around. She spread her arms and asked, “How do I look?”