Chapter 2 - "I Should Have Stopped This Years Ago"Simon came home about an hour later. I was on the couch feeding our daughter when he noticed the box.
"Is that Mom's famous anniversary dress?"
"Your mother ordered it four sizes too small."
He froze halfway out of his jacket. "By accident?"
"No."
His whole face changed. So I told him everything — the laughter, the comment about losing weight, the suggestion that I needed to make myself more attractive for him.
Simon sat beside me and rubbed his face. "Jen…"
"Don't."
He looked up. "Please don't tell me she's just being your mother."
His hand dropped. Because for years, that had been the excuse. Camille criticized my cooking — that's just Mom. Camille questioned how I decorated our house — ignore her. Camille made some cutting remark at dinner — she doesn't mean anything by it. Simon always supported me privately.
Suddenly that distinction mattered more than it ever had.
"I'm not wearing the dress," I said.
"Of course you're not."
"I'll buy another one."
"We'll buy another one," he corrected. I looked down at our sleeping daughter. Simon followed my gaze, then said quietly, "I should've stopped this years ago."
I didn't answer.
Two days later Simon came shopping with me. I found a dress in soft fabric with a waistline that actually sat where my waist existed now. I could sit comfortably. Breathe. Lift my arms without worrying the seams were about to declare war on me.
When I stepped out of the fitting room, Simon smiled. "That one."
"You haven't even seen the others."
"Don't care." I turned to the mirror. He appeared behind me in the reflection. "You comfortable?"
"Yes."
May you like
"Then we're done."
I bought it. What I didn't know was that Simon made a phone call later that afternoon.
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