Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“Right through here,” Tessa says, gesturing to the stall and hangs my dress on the copper molded hook.
“Grace, are you in here?” Diane says, her voice reverberating off the stall walls.
“I’m right here,” I answer back all sing song like, putting my purse down in my own stall and locking the door while staying positive.
“Oh, good. Okay, I’m trying stuff on. You’ll tell me if it makes me look fat, right?”
“Of course,” I call out, grateful we’re the only two back here.
I know damn well Diane just wants her skinny ass complimented, she never looks fat in anything and I tell her as much. She only laughs in response.
I wriggle out of my sweater and shuck my skinny jeans. Unzipping the back of the dress, I glance at the tag but refuse to actually look at it before slipping the dress on over my boyshort panties and bra. I zip it up, reaching behind me and wiggling a little to get it all the way up.
My eyes travel the length of the mirror in the stall. Even barefoot, there is no doubt this dress looks amazing. I step closer, admiring the sweetheart construction. The dress is short sleeved and falls mid-thigh. It looks…
Damn. I’m afraid to really look at the price tag, because I have to get this dress. It’s flattering in all the right ways. Charlie’s never seen me in something like this. I can only imagine what he’d think.
I turn to the side, putting my hand on my stomach. My flat stomach. I imagine how it would look to be carrying a baby and watch my shoulders slump.
Shake it off, I warn myself. Shake off the negative thoughts!
It’s funny, I always thought that I would be a mom, with three or four kids hanging off me at all times. In the past, whenever I pictured my future self, I always saw children with me.
I did everything I was supposed to do. I concentrated on school, and once I earned my degree, I got a good job. But somewhere along the way I missed the step where I just magically find a partner to share it all with, and who celebrates with me when I find out I’m pregnant.
Now, as I look at myself in the mirror, and for all my accomplishments, all I can see is what I lack. I can’t look at myself and smile, because I know that there’s a very good chance I’ll end up childless. And if I eventually find Mr. Right, I can’t give him kids. Oh my God these hormones have come out of nowhere.
I try to talk myself down from the crazy ledge I’ve put myself up on, but it’s impossible. I turn just as Diane knocks at my door before trying to whip it open.
“What are you doing? Come look. I don’t know about this one…” Diane says from behind the door. “I think I’m going to just pass.”
Meanwhile, I’m trying to ignore the prick of tears at the back of my eyes, trying not to think of how cute baby shoes are, how I’ll never have a reason to assemble the antique crib that my mother gave me.
I’m silently freaking out, and totally ashamed of it. It’s only when Diane knocks on the fitting room door again that I’m able to pull myself together.
“Come look at this one,” she begs me. “I think this is the one.”
I wipe at my eyes and step out.
“That dress is gorgeous,” she immediately replies staring at it as I walk out. Deep breath in. I do love this dress and it would be perfect. “Do you think they have it in my size?”
I frown. “For the wedding?”
“Yeah, I freaking love that dress.”
“I think I’m going to get it,” I answer her in a tone that signifies, hey, this one is mine.
“Oh. Are you sure?” she questions.
Taking another look in the mirror in front of us, this one far larger than the one in the fitting room, I nod. “Yes.”
“Ugh. Okay. Well, what do you think of my outfit?”
She twirls in a circle. She’s wearing a two-piece dress that shows off her mid drift made of a deep read twill.
“Beautiful,” I answer honestly. “Not everyone can pull that off.
She blows out a breath. “Is it right for a wedding though?” she questions and I honestly wouldn’t think so but I only shake my head mildly. I’m not sure I’d wear something with my midriff showing but I do think it’s a laidback wedding and I really don’t ever show my midriff.
“This shop doesn’t have anything cute anyway.” Diane’s response shocks me as she walks off. She disappears back into her changing stall, and I do, too.
“Hey, are you ready? I think I want to stop at the food court before we go, get a sugar-free, fat-free froyo.” Diane’s voice is so full of happiness.