How Can My Husband Stay Motivated At The Gym?

I was carrying his child when he threw me out. He believed his female best friend’s lies over my tears, called me unfaithful, and left me to raise our baby alone. Four years later, Only to find him back, as my new Boss. And the DNA test proved the truth, our son was always his. Now he’s on his knees, begging for forgiveness, begging to have us back. But how do I trust the man who shattered me when I needed him most? Should I forgive me? Or move on?

( Dark Romance 18 + ) "You loved to get hard right! Is it only by me or do you have desire to get by some random."- He husked in a seductive tone. Your heart squeezed inside your chest hearing his venomous words. A tear escaped from your eye. He bought his finger and wipeed the escaped tear from your eye. "Why don't you want? So you want only my d** inside you. Yea!! That is why you are only mine, mine to have, mine to Fu**.Right?”- His grips around your waist become tight earning a small gasp. "Why are you wasting your precious tears like this when you know how much you need for the next hour."- His voice resonated. She looked at him with empty eyes; some time it amazed her that at what extents can someone hates other. Again another tear rolled down from her green eyes, his each word breaking her heart into million pieces. "You know right? I have never disappointed you while we are in my room; I have tried in every possible way to satisfy you on my bed and besides I gave you my words that…” He thrusted his face closer to me, and gritted his teeth, “…I will make your life a living hell.” Tears were streaming from her eyes. Her heart , her soul, her body he tainted everything with no shame no regret. This was the life she was living for the past two years only to hope that one day everything will be alright, but that day never come and now she had doubt will it ever be. Without another word he lifted her in his strong arms and his dark blue eyes seemed to penetrate the very depths of her soul. “So let's get you in my room, hmm.”

My wife's gym is celebrating its grand opening, and I drag my buddy along to check the place out with a 9.90-dollar trial class I bought through an e-commerce platform. For the entire time, I never once let it slip that I'm the owner. Right after we finish training, a male coach tosses a price sheet at us. His eyes sweep over us with contempt as he says, "You two look like freeloaders. Our private sessions cost a few hundred each, and we don't offer freebies to people like you." I let out a disbelieving laugh. "We paid for this trial class. How is that freeloading? Go get your manager." He rolls his eyes and makes it seem like he's enforcing a very important rule. "Don't bother looking for the manager. My girlfriend owns this place, and she hates broke losers who try to get free classes." He dials her number right in front of us. His voice sounds both arrogant and pitiful. "Babe, two guys showed up and tried to con us into giving them a free class. They even told me to call the manager. Come over here and show them what's what!"

"Ah… Slow down… My husband hasn't even ended the call yet…" I slump on the floor with my butt raised high. As I listen to my husband's instructions, I continue to shift positions every now and then. Meanwhile, the gym trainer has one hand latching onto my hip while smacking my butt heavily with the other. Under my husband's instructions, he thrusts forward heavily…

My husband dotes on me. He's always saying I'm the one he cherishes most in this life. Everyone else envies me too, saying I married well—pampered like a princess. It all started when I mentioned, offhand, that tailored cuts flatter my figure. From that moment on, he kept it in mind every day, going out of his way to gather all kinds of designer womenswear for me. In the walk-in closet at home, there's always a wardrobe filled exclusively with my new clothes—each piece haute couture, with exquisite fabrics and impeccable craftsmanship. On New Year's Eve in our third year of marriage, the house was lively, packed with relatives chatting and laughing. With a smile, my husband handed me a gift box. "Go on, open your New Year's present." The frustration and resentment I'd been bottling up for so long exploded in an instant. I shoved the box to the floor. "It's the New Year—can you just stop for once?" The moment the words left my mouth, everyone fell silent. The relatives' expressions shifted; one after another, they began to scold me for being ungrateful, for not knowing how lucky I was. My husband looked at me, eyes full of shock and hurt. "I just bought you some pretty clothes. Why are you angry?" Amid their pointing fingers and his wounded questioning, I rushed into the walk-in closet like I'd lost my mind, dragging out those designer clothes and throwing them all over the floor. Everyone stared at me, stunned. No one said another word.

My husband, Chandler Goodwin, claims that he doesn't understand what the phrases "silent treatment" or "giving the cold shoulder" mean. Yet, in the three years we have been married, he has never once spoken to me sweetly. The first time we have a falling out, I remain proud and dignified. We end up ignoring each other for seven days straight. The seventh time we have a cold standoff, I start to panic a little. However, despite trying all sorts of methods, he doesn't back down. The 11th time it happens, I have already learned to work through my emotions myself. Chandler doesn't even need to say anything before I take the initiative to apologize first. I simply think that he's just a naturally indifferent person, that nobody can warm his stone-cold heart. Then, on the third year of our marriage, I accidentally ruin his dress shirt while ironing it. Chandler doesn't say a word, but that very night, he packs his things and moves into a hotel. On the third day of being blocked, I head to his company with a handwritten apology. While passing by his office, I spot him leaning over to shoot his angry assistant a doting smile. "I'm sorry for raising my voice at you just now and upsetting you. It's been 57 minutes since you started ignoring me. Please stop giving me the cold shoulder, alright?" I freeze on the spot, the apology letter in my hand practically burning my fingers. As it turns out, it's not that he doesn't know what the silent treatment means—it's just that I've never been the person he wants to coax.