The dress didn’t fit.
It was not because it was too tight or too small—but because it wasn’t me anymore. The navy satin sheath I’d once bought for a corporate dinner, back when I was still shrinking myself to survive, clung to me like it belonged to someone else.
I stood in front of the mirror, hands on my hips, trying to convince myself it would do.
Raymond walked into the room mid-thought, glanced once, and tilted his head.
“What’s the problem babe, You don’t like it?”
“I don't not like it.”
He crossed the room, stood behind me, placed his arms around my waist and met my gaze in the mirror.
“It’s elegant,” he said gently. “But it’s not you, Not anymore.”
I sighed. “I guess I don’t know what ‘me’ looks like now.”
He smiled, fingers brushing my waist. “Then let’s go find her some
