Chapter 19
On his way inside, Emmett took a selfie on the museum steps, then paused to admire the photo.
He looked decent—better than he had in years: his face visibly slimmer, his second chin tighter.
Every part of him was smaller. His hair was clean cut and back to its natural brown; he hadn’t felt the need to dye it.
He wore a pressed button-down, khakis, and a blazer that Lizette had sewn for the occasion.
He was broke until payday and she’d been looking to sharpen her menswear skills. The design had tested her resolve.
“You look great,” she’d said during the fitting, tugging on sleeves and adjusting lapels, “but it’s just so fucking boring, my god.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t go for the flamingo print.”
“Damn, was that an option?”
Back on the steps of the Museum of Us, Emmett posted two photos to Instagram: the one he’d just taken and one Lizette had snapped of him weeks before in the same spot.
Forbidden from discussing the clinical trial, he hadn’t blogged about his weight loss.
But they couldn’t stop him posting photos, could they?
He kept the caption simple.
Never realized this place could look even more beautiful, but nine weeks can make a world of difference
#weightloss #weightlossgoals #50lbsdown #9weekbodytransformation #confidence #motivation #feelinggood #balboapark #thetrueme
As instructed, he checked in at the front desk of the administration building beside the museum. “Emmett Truesdale. I’m here for an interview with Aaron Wolfe?”
“I’ll let him know you’re here.”
Aaron came out a few minutes later and greeted Emmett with an oblivious smile, then did a double take.
“Emmett? My god, I barely recognized you!”
“Oh, yeah. Guess I look a little—”
“You look incredible.”
Emmett blushed. “No.”
“Seriously. How much weight have you lost?”
“About fifty pounds?” Fearing Aaron would think he’d taken up an eating disorder or a recreational addiction to meth, he added, “CrossFit.”
Aaron opened his mouth to question him further, but simply smiled. “Well, it’s really working. Good for you. You ready to head back?”
He led Emmett into a conference room where three women already sat.
The interview lasted forty-five minutes, and despite a couple of tricky questions, he answered well and was warmly received.
The group was particularly drawn to his experience working with underserved youth.
The story of his proudest achievement—tutoring a student living with his family in a single-room occupancy hotel who went on to ace his SATs and receive a full ride to UC Riverside—drew a glowing “I love that!” from Aaron’s boss.
Though his experience wasn’t an exact fit, Emmett felt more at ease in this interview than any before. At one point he cracked a joke and had the whole room laughing. His shirt didn’t come untucked once.
“You did great,” Aaron said when it was over, shaking his hand. “We have one more person to see, but I hope to have good news for you early next week.”
It wasn’t until he was walking out of the building and passed a stunning twenty-five-year-old size two that Emmett started to question his chances.
He checked Instagram, surprised that his photo had generated more than thirty likes, seven new followers, and a handful of comments.
joanna_225 You look amazing!!
dkpurcell1 Looking great, keep it up!!!
powaygal
gordita_official good luck, you got this!
nino.hofstetter85 Nice, lookin good man
He was tickled and halfway through responding to each of them when he received a new direct message. Mom, asking what diet he was on. He was about to reply with the same lie he’d told Aaron when he noticed a message request. An account named lacrosse_dad71.
Good to see you looking so well, sport. Hope you can find it inside your heart to forgive me for everything that happened. -H
Emmett physically recoiled from the message, his fingers already scrambling to block. He didn’t need to confirm the profile was Hank’s.
Hours later, the message remained with him.
He was still rolling it around in his head as he lay in bed that night.
It repeated, mutating like a corrupted echo, as the masked surgeon sewed the open halves of Emmett’s torso together with rough twine.
Good to see you looking so well, sport. Hope you can find everything that happened inside your heart.
Good sport, looking so well. Hope you can find your heart and forgive me.
Give me your heart, sport. Give me everything you can find inside.