“Better,” she says, and I can feel that it is. “Good.”

“Again,” I say. Good isn’t good enough. Good hasn’t felt like enough for a while now.

“Sophie.” Natalie presses her sneakered foot on top of my bar. “You’re gassed.”

I grind my molars together, hinged over the barbell. “I want to go again.” They say once you start to monetize your hobby you need to find a new hobby. For so long cooking was a passion, maybe not quite a hobby, but something I did because I loved it. Now I get paid for my passion and suddenly I’m not good at it anymore. I found something new in weightlifting, a way to feel strong, something to be passionate about again. If I can’t be good at cooking anymore, then I at least want to feel good at this.

But I don’t have to look up to know she’s crossed her arms over her chest. She’s benching me for the day. “Nope. You’re done. Besides, my next client is here.”

I sigh and stand slowly. Natalie shakes her head. “You’re not even going to celebrate?” she asks. “That’s a PR.” She points at the bar and I do the mental math, counting the weight of each plate and the bar. Holy crap. She’s right.

“Two hundred pounds?” I ask.

She holds up her fist and I bump mine against hers, grinning. “Whatever changes you’ve made,” she says, stepping closer to me even though I must stink, “they seem to be the right ones, for your performance at least. You’ve made huge gains in the last few months.”

“Thanks, Nat.” I put away the weights. She lingers like she wants to say more but I keep stacking plates, knowing that eventually she’ll run out of time and start her prep for her next client. Of course the moment she’s gone I wish she weren’t. I wish I were brave enough to say something to her.

Natalie found out that Paul and I broke up the same way everyone else did: through the statement his management team made on social media, which got picked up by some local entertainment outlets and a few reality TV bloggers. I never bothered to post anything or make any kind of statement.

One season on a cable TV reality show does not a celebrity make, even though my former agent wildly disagreed.

But those are the changes she’s referring to, that my breakup with Paul has been good for me. While I’m not sure she’s wrong, I’m not certain she’s right, either.

Despite losing my connection to fame—and the man I was going to marry—my follower count only grew after our breakup, which made my agent, and Amy, ecstatic.

Although for vastly different reasons.

I disappointed the former, though after firing her that’s not as important to me anymore. Apparently, I wasn’t “leveraging my breakup” enough for another reality show appearance. And I disappointed the latter because more followers has not translated into more patrons to our restaurant. Most of my followers have used the breakup as an opportunity to speculate openly in my comments about what’s wrong with me, if I was cheating, that I was too ugly or chubby or talentless to keep him anyway.