AllFreeNovel
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I’ve never been ashamed of my body. With a sister who evokes such confidence about hers, it’s hard not to follow in her footsteps. We both have our mother’s body type, with more meat on our bones than we know what to do with sometimes. I was always a bigger girl growing up, but I slimmed out quite a bit once puberty hit. I’ve never been able to get much smaller than I am now, though. I love my curves, even if Stewart liked to hint at hitting the gym with him regardless of how many times I turned him down.
Yet another thing the asshole did that I didn’t pay attention to. A red flag that should have had me running for the hills long before he decided to cheat.
Lifting my chin, I shove those thoughts away and focus on the mirror. The dress is cute, but it isn’t me. It’s dainty and soft-spoken, and I am neither of those things.
The next option is another too similar to the one I’m wearing. I skip it, choosing to try the one with the slit in the leg instead.Go big or go home, Anna.
The small space grows hot with the effort of stripping and dressing again, but I push past it. The moment the silk glides over my warm skin, I exhale, forcing myself not to look away from my reflection. The neckline is lined with gems that sparkle beneath the small light above me and is swooped enough to show a good bit of cleavage. It’s a sexy dress, one that saysI’m single and ready to mingle. Or at least that I look ready to mingle. It’s still to be said if I will be or not.
A twist of my hips and I gawk at the length of exposed leg poking through the slit in the silk. Warmth blooms on my cheeks at the thought of others seeing this much bare skin.
I grab my phone from the small bench littered with my discarded clothes and snap a couple of photos of myself in the mirror before sending them all to my sister.
Me: Be honest. Maybe not brutally so . . . but still honest.
Her reply comes instantly. She’s most likely been waiting for it since the moment I told her I was heading to look.
Big Sis: H. O. T. *heart eye emoji*
Me: It’s not too much?
Big Sis: There’s no such thing as too much when it comes to you, Banana.
Me: What if I flash someone with the slit?
I would never get over that trauma.
Big Sis: They’re welcome.
Me: I’d scar the children.
Big Sis: Good thing children aren’t allowed at the wedding then. Buy the dress. You look stunning.
I hesitate with a reply, tapping the back of my phone instead of the screen. Another text comes through a beat later.
Big Sis: Don’t ignore me. BUY THE DAMN DRESS. IT WAS MADE FOR YOU!
Me: I need to send it to the planner first.
Big Sis: I almost forgot about that. Fine. But buy it regardless of what she says.
Nerves clamp down on me as I copy the phone number from our conversation into the New Message tab.
Me: Hi! Is this dress approved for the Morales wedding?
I attach the most modest of the pictures I took, only allowing a bit of my leg to show, and then send the message.
God, that’s such an awkward text. In my defense, who makes their wedding guests send their outfits for approval? I get wanting your wedding to be perfect, but holy. That’s a bit much, if you ask me.
I didn’t plan on having a theme for my wedding . . . but I guess that doesn’t matter anymore, does it? I’m done with weddings for the rest of my goddamn life. No more.
I’ve only begun to take another look at my reflection when my phone buzzes. One look at the screen has my cheeks on fire, the dressing room suddenly too stuffy.
17805559540: Yes.
17805559540: What do I have to do to get plus one approval?
BRODY
