This work contains themes and scenes intended for mature readers (18+). It explores intimacy, emotional complexity, and adult relationships through contemporary romance and erotic realism. Reader discretion is advised.
Glutes and Core
Office Confrontation
After the school fair incident, Claire emotionally withdraws and requests a purely professional 'glutes and core' session. Adriana confronts her in her office, leading to Claire's tearful confession about fearing Mark will take her children.
An Excerpt from this Chapter...
“Claire. Wait.”
Claire froze, back to her. Please, just let me go.
“My office,” Adriana said. It wasn’t a request.
Claire turned slowly. Adriana stood by the weight rack, arms crossed, jaw tight. The mask was gone. In its place was profound, quiet hurt.
Adriana’s office was small and functional. She closed the door behind them, the latch click sounding like judgment. She leaned against the desk, creating a barrier.
“What are we doing?” she asked, voice low and tight.
Claire’s defenses went up. “What do you mean? We’re training.”
“No,” Adriana said, shaking her head, frustration flickering in her eyes. “This. The silence. The ‘glutes and core’ text. You’ve put up a wall so high I can’t even see you. What is going on?”
“It’s just… stressful week,” Claire hedged, hating weakness in her voice. “Mark is being difficult, and I…”
“I can handle ‘difficult,’ Claire,” Adriana cut in, voice sharp with pain. “What I can’t handle is being treated like a dirty secret.”
The words landed like a slap.
“I’ve done this before,” Adriana continued, gaze unwavering, voice raw with history. “Been the person who gets hidden when the real world gets complicated. The person who only exists in quiet afternoons and locked rooms. I told you. I’m not good at it. I won’t do it again.”
Her vulnerability was a blade, slicing through Claire’s wall of fear. Claire’s retreat was wounding her, triggering Adriana’s deepest insecurity.
The sight of Adriana standing there, strong yet profoundly vulnerable, broke something open in Claire. A sob, ragged and ugly, tore from her throat. “I’m scared,” she whispered, words a torrent of confession. “You saw him. You heard what he said. He’ll use this. He’ll use you. He’ll go to a lawyer and say I’m unstable, that I’m a bad influence. He will tell them I am an unfit mother, and he will try to take my children away from me.”
The fear, spoken aloud, was a monster in the small room. Tears streamed down her face. “I am so terrified of finally, finally being this happy, because I know he will see it, and he will try to burn it to the ground. And he will use Leo and Mia to do it.”
She collapsed onto the visitor’s chair, face in hands, body shaking. She had laid her ugliest, most primal fear at Adriana’s feet.
Silence followed. She heard Adriana move, braced for retreat. Instead, she felt Adriana kneel in front of her.
“Okay,” Adriana said, voice soft, stripped of hurt. “Okay. Look at me.”
Slowly, Claire lifted her head. Adriana’s face was inches from hers, expression deep, aching empathy. She reached out, thumb gently wiping a tear from Claire’s cheek.
“I hear you,” she said, gaze holding Claire’s. “That fear is real. It is huge, and it is valid. I am not going to tell you it isn’t.”
Claire’s breath hitched.
“But he doesn’t get to win,” Adriana continued, voice gaining quiet, steely strength. “He doesn’t get to decide who you are. Hiding us doesn’t make you a better mother, Claire. It just makes you less happy. It gives him all the power.”
She took Claire’s hands, grip firm and warm. “The only thing you have to choose is which weight is heavier: his opinion, or your own happiness. You get to choose your own gravity.”
Her words were an anchor. They didn’t dismiss the storm; they offered a way to survive it.
“I choose you,” Claire whispered, voice raw. “I choose this.”
She leaned forward, closing the distance, and pressed her lips to Adriana’s. It was not desperate, frantic kiss, but one of profound, tear-soaked relief. It tasted of salt and surrender. It was a promise.