Ring - 3. Chapter 3

As I drive home, a smile rests on my face. This had been a good weekend with Alex. He opened up in ways I hadn’t expected, and it felt good—like we were at the beginning of something new. This was something I could follow through with, instead of just jumping in and out of his life from time to time.

Once I parked the car, I thought it would be nice to celebrate this small win. There’s a neighborhood pub not far from my apartment, so I decided to walk. Besides, if I’m going to drink, I don’t want to drive.

It was quiet out, late on a Sunday, with most people having work in the morning. As I walked into the pub, and up to the bar, I felt a wave of relief—no need for small talk, just a cold beer to unwind. I stepped inside and ordered, the weight of the weekend’s good moments settling comfortably on my shoulders.

I sit, nursing it, running the weekend’s events over in my mind. I feel this strange mix of relief and unease. It’s been ages since I stepped into a pub like this, but it feels oddly comforting—dim lighting, soft music, low hum of conversations. After the weekend with Alex, though, something in me feels different. I’m breathing easier.

I take another drink, glancing down at the bottle in my hand when I suddenly hear someone call my name.

“James?”

I look up, and to my surprise, there’s Jonas—Alex’s boxing coach—grinning at me from the bar.

“Jonas, hey! What’re you doing here?” I say with a slight laugh.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I hope Alex isn’t here!” Jonas chuckles, sliding onto the stool next to mine. “Just kidding, man.”

I shake my head. “No, no, he’s with his mom tonight. I’m here solo. Haven’t been out in a while, so I thought I’d grab a beer before heading home.”

“With his mom?” Jonas leans in slightly.

“Yeah, we’re divorced. I see Alex on weekends.” I keep my voice steady, though I feel that familiar heaviness settle in my chest.

Jonas’s face softens a bit. “Oh, sorry to hear that. Alex is a great kid.” He nods and signals the bartender for a drink. “This place is a favorite of mine, actually. It’s got a nice vibe—nothing too crazy, you know?”

I appreciate how he shifts the conversation easily, not making a big, awkward thing out of it. Nice not having to explain myself.

The conversation flows, and I find myself relaxing more. Jonas is charming, laid-back. We trade stories about work, about Alex, and before I know it, it feels like more than just a casual encounter. I’m not sure I’m prepared for what this feels like, but it’s happening.

Occasionally, Jonas’s hand brushes my arm. Each time, there’s this jolt—nothing overt, but enough to make me wonder. I don’t pull away. I’m not sure if it’s the beer or something else, but I don’t want to.

A couple of hours pass, drinks flow, and I can’t remember the last time I felt this comfortable around someone new.

“I should probably head out,” Jonas says, glancing at his watch. “Work in the morning, unfortunately.”

I nod, feeling a bit of disappointment I can’t quite hide. “Yeah, I should probably get going too.”

He smiles, standing up, his hand lingering a second longer on my arm this time. “Hey, I had a really good time tonight. We should do this again sometime, maybe?”

I hesitate for just a beat, then smile back. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

As Jonas walks away, I sit back, feeling the warmth of the evening settle in me. Something shifted tonight. And maybe, just maybe, that’s not such a bad thing.

I’ve never been much of a drinker, but talking with another adult outside of work feels nice. Cammie and I used to talk for hours back before the divorce. Now, most nights, I’m in front of the TV or at the building’s gym or rec room.

I don’t go out much or make new friends. Most of my old friends were part of my family life, and now, with no family around, those invites have dried up. That’s why the night at the pub felt like a small victory. Even though it was brief, the conversation with Jonas had been a welcome change, a break from the isolation that’s been creeping in more lately.

The next day, the routine kicks in again. My daily grind doesn’t change much. Working from home has its perks, but the monotony sometimes gets to me. There are still the occasional office meetings, though, and the need to be present—politics, I guess. As much as I hate it, I have to play along.

That’s part of the reason I made a point to go back to the pub after work. The quiet of my apartment was starting to feel suffocating, and the pub had been a good escape. But if I’m being honest, I wasn’t just looking for a drink. I found myself hoping I might run into Jonas again.

I couldn’t quite figure out why. It wasn’t like we were old friends. But that conversation the other night… It was the first time in a long while I’d felt this comfortable talking to someone. The words between us had just flowed naturally, like catching up with someone I’d known for years, not someone I barely knew. Maybe it was the fact that he wasn’t a work colleague, that he didn’t carry the weight of professional expectations or awkward small talk. He was just there. Someone who made me feel at ease.

So, even though I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, I found myself looking forward to going back. It felt right in a way I couldn’t quite explain.

But this evening, Jonas hasn’t shown up. I shrug it off, trying not to feel disappointed. He’s young, probably has a girlfriend, and busy. I’m about to finish my drink and head out when the door swings open, and there he is—Jonas, striding in with that same easy confidence. He spots me almost immediately and waves.

“James! Hey, wasn’t sure if you’d be here,” he says, making his way over and clapping a hand on my shoulder in that friendly, casual way guys do. But his hand lingers a second longer than expected, sending a ripple of something through me I can’t quite place.

I smile, a tension I didn’t even realize I was carrying loosening in my chest. “Hey! Same here, I wasn’t sure if you were going to show. I was actually about to head home,” I say, shifting in my seat. The words hang there for a second, and I can feel my face heat up. Shit. Did I just say that? It sounds like I was waiting around for him—totally not what I meant. My mind scrambles for something to make it less awkward.

“One more beer, for the road?” Jonas asks, his hand lingering on my shoulder, giving it a light, almost persuasive squeeze before letting go. He grins, his tone playful but with a hint of something else, like he’s in on the moment. “Wouldn’t want to leave you hanging, would I?”

I hesitate, my mind racing for a second as I try to make sense of the playful tone, the lingering touch. Should I be reading into it? Probably. But it’s just a drink, right? I shake off the thought and smile, trying to keep it light. “Sure, why not.”

But even as I say it, the words feel a little too casual, like I’m hiding something, pretending it’s no big deal.

Jonas orders two more beers, and I realize I’m beginning to enjoy these chance encounters. Getting out of the apartment and away from the constant silence feels good.

“So, James,” Jonas starts, taking a sip. “Tell me about yourself. Alex mentioned he has an older brother?”

“Yeah, Keith. He’s about seven years older.”

“That’s interesting—why the big age gap? Err… sorry, maybe that’s too personal of a question to ask on a second date.”

Second date? My head spins a little. Did he really just call this a date? We’re just here for a drink, right? Why would he say that?

Jonas grins and nudges my arm. “Just kidding! My friends say I’m a bit too blunt, but I figure if you want something, go for it and deal with the consequences later. So far—knock on wood—no one’s knocked me out for it,” he jokes, tapping the bar with a sly smile.

“Must be nice to be young,” I reply with a chuckle. “I guess as you get older, you become more guarded, feel things out before diving in.”

Jonas shrugs, looking thoughtful. “I get that. Hey, would you mind if I called you Jim? ‘James’ sounds so formal, like we’re in a business meeting. You can call me Jon. That’s what everyone else calls me.”

“Sure,” I say, a little thrown off but amused.

Jonas continues, “Whenever I hear ‘Jonas,’ it reminds me of Sunday school. I was supposed to be named Jonah, actually, but my mom wouldn’t have it. So they settled on Jonas—though there’s a whole story there. I’ll tell you sometime.”

The bartender brings over our beers, and I take a sip, feeling the warmth of the place settle around us.

“So, Jon,” I say, “Tell me about yourself. Are you a full-time trainer?”

“Hey, wait a minute, I think I asked first…” Jon laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “That’s okay. So, about me.” Jon pauses, shrugging casually. “Nah, boxing’s just a side gig.”

Jonas smiles, his eyes lighting up with a touch of pride. “I’ve loved boxing since my teens. Got pretty good at it, actually. When the club needed a new trainer, I thought, why not? But my day job is as a physiotherapist. I usually work with people recovering from sports injuries. Boxing alone would never pay the bills.”

He then goes on to share a bit about how he got into physiotherapy, mentioning his parents briefly before shifting to lighter topics. There’s a hint of something deeper there—maybe some history he’s not ready to dive into. He tells me he has a younger brother and sister, though they live on the other side of the country.

“So, what do you do, Jim?” he asks.

I look up, catching an intense gaze from him. His eyes are sharp, his expression focused, making it hard to look away.

“Hey, you awake, Jim?”

“Oh, yeah—sorry,” I laugh, a bit embarrassed. “I work in software sales. Been at it for a while now. I’m working from home these days, so getting out has been nice. My routine’s pretty predictable: early morning workout, work, another workout in the evening, then a quiet night with the TV. Nothing too exciting. You’re a young guy, though—there’s gotta be more than work and boxing going on, right?”

Jonas’s expression shifts slightly, like he’s holding back a laugh. “You’ve got a way of steering the conversation, don’t you?”

I can’t help but chuckle. “But to answer your question, Not much,” Jon says, flashing that same sly smile. “No one special in my life, if that’s what you’re asking.” He pauses, leaning in a little. “Why, do you know someone?”

His grin deepens as he waits for my reaction, and I feel the playful tension between us.

“Oh, no—sorry,” I stammer, a bit flustered. “Didn’t mean to pry.”

He laughs, brushing it off. “Just messing with you! Right now, it’s just work and some big plans. I want to do my master’s and eventually open my own clinic. It pays well, so I don’t really need to be a trainer, but I love it. Working with the kids, helping them build confidence—that’s what I live for. The club even has a sort of scholarship program for kids who can’t afford training, and I get to work with them. Making a difference like that… it feels good, you know?”

“Yeah, I do,” I reply, feeling a little closer to understanding what drives him.

We keep talking, losing track of time until I notice it’s almost 9 p.m. and I really should be heading home.

“Hey, Jon, I’ve gotta get going. Joys of adulting, right? What do I owe you for the beers?”

Jonas laughs, shaking his head. “Owe? Nah, I’ll think of something, but for today—nothing. It’s on me. I probably should get going, too. I’ve got a couple of local sports stars coming into the clinic tomorrow. Can’t be hungover for that!”

We stand, and as we head out, Jon gives me a pat on the back, his hand lingering just long enough to make me wonder. Each touch, every brush against me, sends a jolt through me. His subtle hints… I can’t tell if they’re real, or just my mind playing tricks.

The week flies by, work keeping me too busy to head back to the bar. I miss the time with Jon, but I tell myself not to read into it. We’re just friends, after all. He’s Alex’s trainer.

Then one morning, I decided to change things up and go out for coffee. There’s a small shop nearby, and I figure I’ll treat myself. Going out for a drink made me realize just how much I’ve been missing by staying in all the time.

I walk in, place my order, and spot Jon out of the corner of my eye. He’s at a table, focused on his laptop, coffee beside him. I’m about to turn away, not wanting to interrupt, when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

“Jim—you weren’t going to say hi?” Jon’s voice has that teasing warmth, and I find myself smiling.

“Oh, hey, Jon! I saw you working and didn’t want to interrupt.”

Jon laughs, rolling his eyes. “Come on, man. I thought we were past awkward introductions. Sit with me! Give me an excuse to shut this thing off.” He points to the laptop with a smirk.

Being around Jon is… refreshing. He’s got this open, easygoing way about him, always smiling, always bringing a little extra energy into the room.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to—”

“Hey, if I didn’t want your company, I’d have let you walk out. Remember what you said about feeling things out? No need with me. I like talking to you. Most guys my age are just into one thing, and that gets tiring after a while.”

Each time he says something, it feels loaded, as if there’s more beneath the surface. But this… this was just loaded, but I have to be cautious not to read too much into it. I keep replaying his words, trying to catch the unsaid meaning, but it’s like grasping at shadows.

“What were you working on?” I ask, nodding at his laptop.

“Masters application.” Jon runs a hand through his hair, sighing. “The clinic said they’d sponsor me—a dream come true, really. But I’ve been staring at this application for two weeks now. On one hand, I know it’s what I want. But now that it’s so close, I’m starting to wonder… do I want it as badly as I thought?” He looks at me, genuinely curious. “What would you do?”

“Wow, that’s a heavy question,” I say, taking a sip of my coffee. “If you were my kid, I’d probably—”

Jon cuts in with a grin. “But I’m not your kid. Go on…”

I shake my head, laughing. “As I was saying…”

Jon interrupts again, his eyes twinkling. “Hey, let’s make this official.”

“Official?” I pause, feeling a jolt of curiosity. “What do you mean by that?”

“We’re officially friends.” Jonas leans back, crossing his arms with a satisfied smile, as if he’s just made some grand declaration. “Let’s put the whole ‘I’m Alex’s trainer’ thing behind us. Besides, I like older guys…”

The words hang in the air for a beat, my mind racing to catch up. My heart skips slightly, unsure of where this is going.

He continues, unfazed by my silence. “They have a perspective on life that I don’t really have.”

I try to process what he’s saying, my mind still stuck on that first part—older guys—and the way his smile didn’t waver. It takes me a second to find my voice, wondering if I’m imagining things. I can’t tell if he’s just being playful, or if there’s something else behind his words.

There it is again—that hint, a little bolder this time. I blink, trying to keep my composure.

Jon laughs, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Kidding! But seriously… we’re friends, right?”

I nod, feeling a bit amused and a bit flustered. “Sure, we’re officially friends. Is this the part where we fist-bump or something?”

“If you’re up for it.” Jon holds out his fist, and we bump knuckles, both laughing a little too loudly for the quiet coffee shop.

Jon’s smile lingered as he leaned back, clearly satisfied with whatever unspoken understanding we were reaching. But as he relaxed, I couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze shifted toward me—just a little too lingering, a little too intense. It was hard to ignore.

He looked at me, his eyes warm, almost searching, and I felt something stir inside me. There was a quiet confidence in him, something that made me want to lean in closer and figure out what he was thinking.

I couldn’t stop myself from wondering—was I reading too much into this? Was it just a friendly gesture, or was there something more to the way he was looking at me? The more I thought about it, the more I realized I had no idea what he really felt, but I couldn’t help but feel drawn to him.

And then there was the undeniable fact that he was attractive—he had that kind of easy charm, a relaxed, effortless confidence that made him stand out. It was hard not to notice, and even harder not to be affected by it. But I had to remind myself that he was Alex’s trainer, and I had to maintain that separation.

Back in the moment, I try to focus. “Anyway, like I was saying… go for it, Jon. You’ve got big plans, and you’re young. If you don’t reach for them now, you’ll end up where I’m sitting—having regrets.”

“Yeah, I get what you mean, Jim, but regrets?” Jon leans in, his gaze steady. “You’ve got two amazing kids. I mean, sure, you’re divorced, but things happen.”

My mind races. How can I even begin to explain? Telling him I’m gay… or that I might be feeling something toward him, that’s impossible. Admitting it would probably ruin our friendship—and Alex, he loves training with Jon. I can’t risk that. Besides, I don’t even know if he’s gay and the last thing I want is an uppercut for making the wrong assumption.

“Sometimes life seems perfect from the outside,” I reply carefully. “But when you look closer, there’s always more to the story. We all have some regrets.”

Jon pauses, clearly digesting what I’ve said. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, a softness that makes me feel oddly vulnerable. He doesn’t push, but his words seem to hold layers of meaning.

“Well,” he says, his voice a little softer, “maybe one day we’ll both open up a bit more. There are things that take time, you know? For me, it’s about feeling safe with someone. Trusting them.” He shrugs, a hint of nervous laughter. “I think I’m pretty much an open book… maybe I just need the right friend to turn a few pages.”

There’s a silence, thick with questions I can’t bring myself to ask. I wonder if Jon’s hinting at something here, or if it’s all in my head.

“Yeah, I get that.” I nod, trying to play it cool, though my pulse is racing. “Trust is... it’s everything.”

The words feel heavy as they leave my mouth, and for a moment, I wonder how much of it is just me trying to convince myself. Here I am, talking about trust—when, in all honesty, I’ve never really been honest with myself, not fully. Getting married knowing I was gay... How hypocritical is that?

Jon tilts his head slightly, studying me with a small smile. “And hey, I always say life’s too short to hold back, right? We should grab a drink again sometime, just us, no titles. I like being around you, Jim. You’re… easy to talk to.”

A nervous laugh escapes me. “Yeah, same here.”

He smiles at me again, his gaze lingering a second longer than necessary. “Anyway, about that coffee—want a refill?”

“Sure—but this time, I’m paying,” I say, standing up.

“Got it!” Jon says with a grin.

I head to the counter, order two coffees, and pay. They’re ready by the time I turn back to the table, and I set them down as we dive back into our conversation. Just then, my phone rings. I glance down and see it’s a call from the office. I’m late—ten minutes late, in fact.

“Oh shit, Jon, I’m really sorry, but I’ve got to run,” I say, standing up a bit abruptly. “Totally lost track of time.”

“No worries, Jim! Catch you later.”

I dash out, realizing halfway down the block that I left my coffee behind. Oh well. Right now, I need to get home and get on that call.

Later that day, I settle back into my routine. I hit the gym in the building for about an hour, and by the time I get to my apartment, I’m too exhausted to cook, so I order something online. It’s just one of those days—nothing extraordinary, just the usual grind.

As the evening fades into night, I finally unwind, grateful for a bit of quiet. The day’s been full, but my mind keeps drifting back to the moments with Alex—small steps forward, I think.

The next morning, I decided to go for a run. The will start cooling soon, and there may not be many more days like this. I throw on my running gear, grab my earbuds, and opt to take the stairs down instead of the elevator. As I step out into the early morning air, I decide on a 5K—it’s doable in under an hour.

I start my route, which takes me through a local park and past a few businesses. This early, it’s quiet, with barely anyone around.

About halfway through, I get the feeling someone’s behind me. I glance back, and it’s Jon. Okay, this is a little unexpected. He jogs up beside me with a casual wave.

“Jim! Fancy seeing you out here!” he says, not even a little out of breath.

I laugh. “I was about to say the same thing. Do you live around here?”

We slow to a casual walking pace and continue talking.

“Nah,” Jon replies, still grinning. “I usually do a 10K loop in the mornings, and it takes me past the park. Thought I recognized you, but I kept my distance at first. When I got closer, I realized it was you.” He pauses, giving me a look. “We should hook up for runs in the mornings… sorry, connect. Hook up has some connotations, know what I mean?”

Hook up? Connotations? Is he just being friendly, or am I once again reading too much into this?

He gives me a playful nudge. “Besides, I could teach an old guy some new tricks,” he teases.

“Right… and what exactly could you teach me?” I reply, smirking. Might as well play along.

Jon winks. “Well, if I told you, I’d have to kill you.” He chuckles. “Just kidding. Something I heard in a movie once—never thought I’d get the chance to say it. Anyway, I could give you a few pointers on your form. I mean, everyone thinks they know how to run, but there’s a right way and a wrong way. You should come by the clinic sometime. I do a running workshop on Saturdays. Free of charge, of course.”

I glance over at him, noting the way he’s looking at me. My whole body feels like it’s buzzing, a bit more than I’d like to admit. I’m pretty sure he’s looking me over, too.

“I might just take you up on that. When’s the next workshop?”

“Tomorrow, actually,” he says, his eyes lighting up. “Give me your number, and I’ll text you the details.”

I pull out my phone, and Jon gives me his number. I dial it, and he holds up his phone when it rings. “Now we’re officially connected,” he says with a grin.

“I’ll send the info when I get back to work,” he adds. “How much more do you have left?”

“Just a kilometer or so.”

“Oh, I’ve got four more to go,” Jon replies. He hesitates, then nods toward the path. “Why don’t you run ahead? I’ll check out your form, see if I can offer some pointers next time.”

I couldn’t help but notice the way Jon’s eyes lingered on me as we ran. There was something in the way he looked at me—something more than just the friendly encouragement I’d gotten used to. His gaze seemed a little too focused, too interested. I tried to push the thought away, but I couldn’t help it. Maybe I was reading into things, but it felt like there was more there.

When I glanced over my shoulder, I caught him trailing behind me, almost like he was keeping pace with me for no reason other than to stay close. The way his body moved, effortlessly matching mine, made it hard to ignore the way I was reacting to him. I told myself it was just the adrenaline, the exertion from the run, but deep down, I knew it wasn’t just that.

It wasn’t the first time I’d noticed how his presence affected me—how his ease and confidence seemed to make everything feel… right. And that damn grin he had, the one that made everything else fade into the background. I had to stop myself from thinking too much about it. I wasn’t sure what he was feeling, or if he even felt anything at all. But with every passing second, it was harder to ignore.