4 #3
“I’m not sure about the neckline.”
I looked toward the mirror.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“You’ve lost so much through your shoulders.”
Her fingertips rested lightly near my collarbone.
“You need a little tone now.”
My stomach dropped.
Gabriella considered the dress. “It is a strong neckline.”
Crystal nodded. “She’s beautifully slim, but without definition it makes her look a little sickly.”
Sickly.
The word slid beneath my skin.
I crossed my arms unconsciously.
My mother noticed immediately.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m not criticizing you.”
“I know.”
“You look gorgeous.” She squeezed my upper arm. “A little Pilates would give you definition here. You’ve already done the difficult part.”
The difficult part.
Getting smaller. Losing enough.
I had finally done it and somehow discovered another version of wrong waiting underneath.
Gabriella reached for the navy gown. “Try this one. The neckline is softer.”
I disappeared behind the curtain again.
The moment it closed, I looked at myself.
My shoulders looked skeletal now. My arms looked soft. My waist looked thicker beneath the ivory fabric.
I pressed one hand against my stomach.
“Stop,” I whispered.
My phone buzzed from the chair.
Ryan.
Ryan: You disappear into a dressing room and die?
I swallowed.
Charm: Considering it.
His answer came almost immediately.
Ryan: Need extraction?
A smile pulled at my mouth.
Charm: My mother would hunt you.
Ryan: I skate faster.
Charm: She has lawyers.
Ryan: Aura is basically one already.
I laughed quietly.
“Charmagne?” Crystal called through the curtain. “Everything okay?”
“Yes.”
I changed into the navy.
The fabric felt better before I ever looked into the mirror.
When I stepped outside, Crystal smiled.
“That’s much better.”
I turned toward the mirrors.
I liked it.
The skirt moved beautifully, the fabric skimmed my waist without clinging, and the navy made my hair look warmer.
“It’s beautiful.”
Gabriella adjusted one shoulder. “The color is wonderful on her.”
Crystal smiled before narrowing her eyes slightly at my hair. “We definitely need the smoothing treatment.”
My gaze moved immediately toward the frizz around my temples.
Five seconds earlier, I had liked everything.
Now all I could see was my hair.
“The navy will photograph beautifully,” my mother continued.
“I like it.”
She smiled. “Then let’s hold it while we look at Maison Claire.”
I looked at her. “You don’t like it?”
“I do.”
“But?”
“There might be something extraordinary at the next appointment.”
My phone vibrated again.
Ryan: You straightening shit?
I looked down.
My fingers were aligning the hanger holding the ivory dress with the others.
A laugh escaped.
My mother glanced over. “Bliss again?”
“Yeah.”
The lie felt heavier this time.
Crystal smiled. “I’m glad you girls are still so close.”
“So am I.”
Maison Claire gave us seven more dresses, three glasses of sparkling water, and enough opinions to erase whatever remained of mine.
One made my hips look too narrow. Another made my shoulders look too sharp. A third needed better posture. A fourth would photograph better if my hair was up. The black gown looked beautiful until my mother remembered Aunt Elaine disliked black at celebratory events.
By the time we returned to Valentina’s for the navy dress, I couldn’t remember whether I had liked it because I actually liked it or because it had survived the longest.
Gabriella wrapped it carefully in tissue paper.
Crystal added shoes because the pair I already owned had a heel she considered too heavy.
Outside, my mother linked her arm through mine as we walked toward the waiting car.
“I had such a lovely day.”
I looked at her.
She meant it.
“So did I.”
“You seem tired.”
“Shopping is exhausting.”
She laughed softly. “You used to follow me anywhere if shoes were involved. Charlie lasted ten minutes before threatening mutiny.”
The ache returned quietly.
I looked toward her. “Do you miss him every day?”
The question slowed her steps.
Her hand tightened around my arm.
“Yes.”
The polished expression softened into something older.
“Every single day.”
My throat tightened. “Me too.”
Crystal touched my cheek. “I know.”
I wanted to tell her I didn’t know how to miss Charlie correctly anymore. Sometimes I was angry at him for dying and leaving behind a version of himself that could never disappoint anyone again. I wanted to ask whether she knew how often his name still became a measurement.
Instead, I smiled.
My mother kissed my forehead. “You’re all right, sweetheart?”
“Yeah.”
She studied me for another second before accepting it.
“Call your father about the paper.”
“I will.”
“And think about Pilates before the cotillion. Nothing excessive. Two or three sessions would make such a difference.”
My chest tightened. “I’ll look into it.”
“Perfect.”
She kissed my cheek before the driver opened the rear door.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I watched the car pull into traffic before looking down at the dress bag hanging from my hand.
It was navy. It was beautiful. I had technically chosen it.
I couldn’t remember whether any part of the choice still belonged to me.
By the time I reached my apartment, the fragile control I’d held throughout the day had started fraying, and exhaustion had taken its place.
I hung the dress from the closet door and removed my shoes before catching myself in the mirror beside the dresser.
My eyes went directly to my arm.
Soft.
Then my shoulders.
Too sharp.
My waist looked wrong again.
Crystal’s voice replayed through my head with humiliating precision.
Tiny. Impressive. Sickly. Tone.
My hand moved toward the vanity drawer.
The phone vibrated on my bed before I opened it.
Ryan’s name glowed across the screen.
Ryan: Home?
I stared at the message with my fingers resting against the drawer handle.
Then I closed it.
Charm: Just got here.
The phone rang before I had time to put it down.
I answered and sat on the edge of the bed.
“Hello?”
“Did the rich survive?”
His voice filled the room, rough and amused enough that something inside my chest loosened.
“Barely. Several dresses were harmed.”
“I knew shopping was violent.”
“You mocked my need for body armor.”
“I offered body armor.”
“You offered to steal military equipment.”
“I know people.”
“You absolutely don’t know those people.”
Ryan laughed.
I leaned back against the pillows and looked at the dress.
“So?”
“So what?”
“Did you find one?”
“Yeah.”
“You sound thrilled.”
“I’m tired.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
I closed my eyes.
He was becoming unbearable.
“It’s navy.”
“Helpful.”
“It’s long.”
“I’m seeing it clearly now.”
I smiled despite myself. “Very funny.”
“You like it?”
The question silenced me.
I looked toward the dress again.
My mother liked it. Gabriella liked it. The color photographed well. The neckline worked. The shoes matched. My father would approve.
Ryan waited.
“I don’t know.”
His voice changed slightly. “You bought a dress and don’t know if you like it?”
“My mother likes it.”
“I didn’t ask if Crystal likes it.”
“I know.”
“What do you like about it?”
I rubbed my thumb slowly over the edge of my phone. “The color.”
“Okay.”
“The skirt moves beautifully.”
“That sounds promising.”
“The construction is gorgeous.”
“Then why don’t you know?”
The answer sat in my throat for several seconds before I let it out.
“Because after four hours of people telling me what worked, I stopped knowing what I thought.”
Silence came through the phone.
I immediately wished I could pull the sentence back.
Ryan didn’t rush to fix it.
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It was just shopping.”
“I didn’t say shopping was exhausting.”
My throat tightened.
He understood too much sometimes.
“You want me to come over?”
The yes rose immediately.
I swallowed it. “You don’t have to.”
“That wasn’t my question either.”
I smiled. “You’re becoming very annoying about questions.”
“Brown should pay me.”
“She already has a job.”
“I could replace her.”
“You would be fired before lunch.”
“Probably.”
I looked toward the mirror again without turning my body toward it.
“I want you to come over.”
“See how easy that was?”
“Don’t ruin it.”
“I’m getting food.”
“I’m not hungry.”
The answer came too quickly.
A beat of silence followed, but Ryan didn’t comment.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“For food?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t care.”
“Wrong answer.”
I laughed softly. “Why?”
“Because we’re practicing.”
I knew exactly what he meant.
What do you want, Charm?
The question he kept asking until choosing stopped feeling like something dangerous.
I thought about it.
“Those tacos from your place.”
“Which ones?”
“The carne asada.”
His satisfaction came through the phone. “Look at you.”
“Don’t make it weird.”
“I’m proud.”
“It’s a taco.”
“It’s a decision.”
I smiled and glanced toward the closed vanity drawer.
“Ryan?”
“Yeah, mi hada?”
“Bring your mythology book.”
His laugh warmed the line. “Now you’re getting demanding.”
“You said I’d like it.”
“I was right.”
“You haven’t proven anything.”
“I’ll be there in twenty.”
The call ended.
I remained sitting on the bed for another moment while the apartment settled around me. When I stood, the mirror caught me again. My eyes started traveling downward out of habit, searching for the next flaw before I could stop them.
I turned away.
The drawer stayed closed while I went to change out of the clothes my mother liked.
For that night, I let the decision be mine.