I gathered my hair in my hands and swept it over my shoulder, suddenly hyperaware of how exposed my neck felt.
“God, I just hope it works for you this time,” Megan sighed dramatically from her throne-like chair in the corner. “I don’t want a baby whale in my wedding party.”
Marlene gasped softly, fingers freezing mid-pin. The sorority trio tittered behind their hands while Mom made a half-hearted “now, Megan” sound that contained zero actual reprimand.
Emily launched into a blistering response, but I didn’t catch the words. Instead, I stared at my reflection, suddenly seeing myself through different eyes. Jack’s eyes.
The way he’d looked at me in Paris, like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. His hands sliding over these same curves with reverence. His mouth on my neck, right where I’d pulled my hair away, whispering against my skin how perfect I was, how fucking gorgeous.
That’s it,he’d said, watching me fall apart in his arms.So fucking beautiful.
The words echoed in my mind, drowning out the boutique chatter. I stared harder at my reflection, trying to see the woman Jack saw when he looked at me. The curves my mother wanted me to lose were the same ones Jack had traced with reverent hands. The thighs my sister mocked were the same ones he’d parted with eager desire. The body they wanted me to change was the one he worshipped.
My whole life, I’d let them convince me I needed to be fixed. Be smaller. Be less. But Jack had shown me a different truth. And suddenly, with crystal clarity, I realized I was done. Done shrinking. Done apologizing. Done letting them dictate my worth based on a measuring tape.
“Unpin me, please.” My voice was low but steady.
Marlene glanced up, surprise flickering across her face before she gave a brief nod and began removing the pins.
“What are you doing?” Megan pushed herself out of her chair, brow furrowed in confusion.
Marlene whisked the material off me and I stepped down from the platform. “I’m done with this bullshit.”
“Excuse me?” My mother’s voice went shrill.
“You heard me.” I slipped behind the changing screen, pulling the body suit off and yanking my jeans and sweater back on with trembling hands. “I’m done being your collective punching bag.”
When I emerged, Megan’s face had gone from confused to shocked. “But... the wedding...”
“Find someone else.” I grabbed my purse from the chair, adrenaline making my fingers clumsy. “Someone who fits your aesthetic better. I’m fine exactly the way I am, and I’m not spending the next four months being shamed into hating myself for your perfect photos.”
“Mia Harris!” My mother’s voice could have shattered glass. “You get back here this instant!”
Aunt Monica was staring at me, open mouthed and speechless, while the sorority trio huddled together, eyes wide with delicious scandal.
“You can’t just walk out!” Megan’s voice cracked. “This is my wedding!”
I paused at the door, looking back at my sister’s genuinely bewildered face. “Yes, it is. And now you can find someone who’ll fit the look you want, without having to starve themselves.”
“Whoop!” Emily shouted, pumping her fist in the air as my mother gasped in horror. “Go, Mia!”
The bell above the boutique door jingled as I stepped out into the crisp autumn air, my heart thundering in my chest.
I’d just quit my sister’s wedding. And I didn’t know what to think about it. All I knew was that I needed to see Jack. Now.
I drove straight to his house on autopilot, adrenaline still surging through my veins. The satisfaction of standing up for myself mixed with the lingering sting of their words, creating a cocktail of emotions that made me feel a little sick.
When I reached his door, I knocked with more force than necessary, shifting from foot to foot as I waited. The door swung open, and there he stood in gray sweatpants and a faded henley, hair slightly rumpled like he’d been running his hands through it.
“Mia?” Surprise flickered across his face. “Is everything okay?”
I pushed past him into the entryway, not trusting myself to explain what had happened without combusting. Pickles trotted up, tail wagging, but even his enthusiastic greeting couldn’t distract me from my mission.
“What’s your favorite thing about me?” The words tumbled out before Jack could close the door.
He frowned in confusion. “What?”
“Your favorite thing. About me.” I crossed my arms, chin lifted in challenge. “What is it?”
