Page 10 of Don't Think

When I reach the end of the closet, my eyes land on it.

The black fabric hangs, staring back at me tauntingly. I step in closer and run my fingers along the smooth material, trying to figure out how I’m even going to fit into it. I know I’ve lost weight in the last few years, but what if it’s not enough?

Oh my god… what if I end up having to go in sweats?

“Are you still fighting the pants?” Ana says from behind, making me jump out of my skin.

I drop the fabric between my fingers and watch it sway on the hanger like a pendulum. When I turn around, I find both her and Nora peering into my closet with teasing smiles and wide eyes.

“Come on, Allie,” Nora says, pushing past me to grab the hanger from the rod and forces it into my hands. “You have to wear them.”

The black leather spills over my arms like liquid, and I can’t help but just stare at it.

I haven’t worn these pants since before I had Lydia, and let’s just say motherhood has not been kind to my hips in the slightest. Just thinking about squeezing myself into these makes me want to shrivel up and hide in bed for the rest of the night.

“Alright,” Ana says, placing a firm hand on my shoulder. “Stop overthinking and just do it.”

I give her a tight, half-hearted smile and nod. There’s no point in arguing since this is one of those battles that I’m just not going to win.

Dragging my feet into the bathroom, I peel off my clothes and step into the slick, cold fabric that already feels too foreign against my skin. Once everything is more or less where it’s supposed to be, I reluctantly look up at the mirror.

I carefully turn from side to side, inspecting myself for any sign of imperfection, that way I can notice them before anyone else.

Except… I findnothing.

The pants hug my body in a way that almost makes me forget I ever hated how it looked. My mom pouch—the one that’s been my plus-one for five years and counting, the one I’ve tried to hide under oversized sweaters or shoved inside every pair of leggings—is gone. Sucked into the fabric so tightly you’d never even know it existed in the first place.

My hand rubs across my stomach, and I blink back the tears that already sting. For a second, I almost feel strange without it.

Then the relief washes over me like a wave.

For the first time in too long, I feel truly... beautiful.

Right now, I’m not just Allison Windsor, single mom of two with a caffeine addiction strong enough to survive on an hour of sleep for the entire month.

But instead, I’m Allie Windsor, single mother to two incredible little girls, with the confidence to blow everyone in her path away—leather pants and all.

The way it should be.

A soft knock at the door steals my attention, and my eyes flick over to it.

“Come in,” I call, turning back to the mirror for one last hair fluff.

The door creaks open, and Ana and Nora peek their heads in before slowly stepping inside.

“See!” Nora says, throwing her hands toward the pants like she just won a bet. “I told you they’d look amazing.”

Ana lifts her fingers to her lips, then gives me a slow, dramatic chef’s kiss. “Perfección,” she says with a soft smile, placing her hands over her heart like a proud mom.

My eyes meet my reflection in the mirror again, and I don’t miss the rosy-pink blush already coloring my cheeks. But this time, I don’t just see confidence pouring out of me. I can actuallyfeelit. And even more than that, I believe in it this time.

Now I need to embrace it and reclaim the version of myself I thought I’d lost forever.

Of course,first comes the hard part. Heading into the city and holding onto this mindset without retreating into my cozy, familiar little turtle shell.

One step at a time, Allie.

Waiting in line for a concert wouldn’t be so bad… if they had chairs.