Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
EMMA
“ W hat are you talking about?”
I stared at Charlie, my back pressed against the cold mirror of the fitting room. His words echoed in my ears, impossible to process.
“You’ve barely touched me in weeks. Lately, it feels like you go out of your way not to look at me. How can you say I drive men crazy?”
“Are you kidding me?” His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “You’re glowing. Every day, you become more radiant. Men can’t help but notice.”
“No, that’s... that’s not true. You?—”
“I’ve seen the way people look at you,” he said, his voice low and intense. “At the grocery store, at the park. You might not notice it, but trust me, they do.”
“I…” My voice faltered. What could I say? That I’d been too afraid to hope for any positive attention?
“I didn’t think anyone would find me attractive like this.”
Charlie’s features softened, but the intensity in his eyes remained. “Emma, pregnancy is beautiful. It’s a miracle, and it shows in every inch of you.”
He stroked my jaw, his touch almost reverent. “Your body is doing something incredible, creating life. How could that not be attractive?”
Heat flooded my cheeks, spreading down my neck and across my chest. His words ignited something deep within me, a spark of hope and desire I’d been trying to smother.
“You’re just saying that,” I whispered, but even to my own ears, it sounded weak, unconvincing.
Frustration flashed in his eyes. “Why would I lie about this?”
“To make me feel better?” I hated how small and insecure I sounded. “Because you feel guilty?”
His hands dropped from my face, and for a moment, I thought he was going to step away. Instead, he gripped my shoulders, gently but firmly turning me to face the mirror.
“Look,” Charlie commanded, his voice soft but brooking no argument. “Really look at yourself and see what I see.”
But I couldn’t. All I could see were the changes that had been haunting me for weeks. The roundness of my belly, the fullness of my breasts, the slight puffiness in my face. I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to bear the sight. Not wanting to confront the changes in my body that had been causing me so much anxiety.
He sighed. “I think this might be the most painful part.”
Confusion consumed me and my mouth opened, words forming but never escaping. What was painful? Looking at me? Hadn’t I been trying to drive that point home for the last five minutes?
“I’ve spent weeks watching you stare into the mirror with disgust, and it kills me,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, intense whisper. “Because all I see is how fucking beautiful you are.”
“I don’t recognise myself anymore.”
His grip on my shoulders tightened. “Open your eyes, love. Please. For me.”
There was something in his voice, a plea that I couldn’t ignore.
Slowly, reluctantly, I did as told, but I didn’t focus on myself. No, instead I stared at him, taking in how his tall frame dwarfed mine, how his chest brushed against my back with each breath. His gaze bore into mine through the reflection and my breath caught at the intensity in his eyes. He was the gorgeous one, not me.
For a moment, I thought I saw something more there, a flicker of desire perhaps? But it was gone so quickly, I must have imagined it.
“Now, tell me what you see,” he said, his breath warm against my ear.
I forced myself to lower my gaze, taking in my reflection. The dress I wore clung to my curves, accentuating the swell of my belly and the fullness of my breasts. My hair, usually so carefully styled, was slightly mussed from trying on clothes. My cheeks were flushed, my eyes wide and uncertain.
My brain couldn’t stop there. It zeroed in on the flaws beneath the fabric. The stretch marks, the cellulite on my thighs, the dark line running from navel to pubic bone, slight discolouration at my hairline from melasma. Then there was the swelling… all of the swelling. I couldn’t remember what I’d looked like before all of this.
I swallowed hard. “I see someone who doesn’t look like me anymore. Someone who’s getting fat. Who’s changing in ways I can’t control. I see stretch marks and swollen ankles and...”
“Stop.” His fingers brushed across my shoulders, teasing the strap of the dress. “Let me tell you what I see.”
His hands moved from my shoulders, leaving the straps in place. They slid down my arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “I see a woman who’s more beautiful than ever, who’s absolutely breathtaking. Every curve, every inch of you is perfect.”
I shook my head, tears pricking at my eyes. “You don’t have to say that, Charlie. I know I’m not?—”
“Let me finish.” His hands came to rest on my hips, his touch warm even through the fabric of my dress. I couldn’t help but lean into him, enjoying his touch even if I shouldn’t. “I see curves that turn heads. You don’t even notice the way men look at you when we’re out.”
Tears pricked at my eyes, threatening to spill over. “Charlie...”
“I see beauty in the softness of your skin, in the fullness of your figure. You’re creating life, Em. How could that be anything but breathtaking?”
His words washed over me, making it impossible for me to look away from our reflection. His eyes blazed with sincerity, his face a mask of determination.
“But it’s not just your body,” he continued. “It’s everything about you. I see strength and courage. A formidable woman who uprooted her entire life, moved across the country, and is facing all of this with such grace. The way you light up when you talk about the baby. The determination you show every day, facing this unexpected challenge head-on. How could anyone not be in awe of you?”
A tear escaped, rolling down my cheek. His hand came up, gently wiping it away. “You’re incredible. Every inch of you, inside and out. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”
The dam broke. Tears flowed freely now. “I don’t feel incredible,” I choked out between sobs. “I feel scared and overwhelmed and... and so alone.”
“You’re not alone. I’m right here. I’ve always been here.”
I turned into him, burying my face in his chest. His arms wrapped around me, strong and secure, as sobs wracked my body. His shirt grew damp with my tears, but he didn’t seem to mind. One of his hands came up to stroke my hair, the gentle motion soothing me.
“Shh, it’s okay,” he murmured, one hand rubbing soothing circles on my back. “Let it out. I’ve got you.”
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled into his chest. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” Charlie murmured. “I should have been clearer about how amazing you are. I was so afraid of making you uncomfortable that I ended up making you feel invisible. That’s the last thing I ever wanted.”
I pulled back slightly, looking up at him. His eyes were soft, filled with an emotion I was afraid to name. “So you really don’t think I’m... unattractive?”
His laugh was low and warm. “You’re stunning. Pregnancy has only enhanced your beauty.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He smiled, giving my shoulders a gentle squeeze. “No need to thank me for telling the truth. Now, why don’t you try on that green dress? I have a feeling it’s going to look amazing on you.”
Charlie left me alone in the cubicle with a barrage of thoughts. Everything he’d said was about how other men looked at me. Not him.
Clearly, he was just trying to boost my confidence, nothing more.