Page 63 of An Inevitable Marriage

“I’m sure that’s not it.” I raised a brow and pointed toward my arm. “Maybe he’s just referring to my skin. Cece always says I’m so pale I scare the sun away.”

Nat seemed disappointed. “Why is it so hard to believe someone thinks something nice of you?”

With all that weight you’re carrying around, it was probably better I didn’t see you.

Anthony’s words slammed into me like a thunderbolt striking from the sky. Fast and sharp, burning a hot, shameful path to my soul.

And now that the door was open, insults I’d tried to bury over the years played on a loudspeaker inside my head.

Cottage cheese thighs.

Fat and ugly, but at least you have a brain.

Are you really going to eat that? Wouldn’t you prefer a salad instead?

Maybe you’d be more comfortable in something that wasn’t so formfitting.

My heart squeezed tight before it flipped and seemed to drop to my feet, leaving a searing ache inside my chest. So big, the depth of it couldn’t be contained. My throat burned, and my eyes stung.

“I’ll be right back.”

I didn’t even look at Natalie as I jumped from my seat and rushed to the restroom. I loved her, and I trusted her with my life, but I couldn’t bear the thought of her seeing me so broken and vulnerable.

Shutting myself in the middle stall, I plonked down on the closed toilet and allowed my emotions to take over. I’d give myself this. A few moments of self-pity, but then I’d dry off my tears, pull up my big girl panties, and deal.

Just like I’d always done.

That was the plan until two soft knocks sounded against the door.

“Evie?” Nat’s voice reached my ears, filled with concern. “What’s going on? Talk to me, please?”

I tugged the inside of my cheek between my teeth and stared at the barrier between me and my best friend. Why was I so hesitant to let her in? Not just physically but emotionally, too. We’d shared everything.

Well, thinking about it, I realized that wasn’t entirely true.

Nat had always shared everything with me while I was only too happy to listen. Listening meant I didn’t have to share my own hurts and insecurities.

She deserved better.

With a quick wipe under my eyes, I slowly pushed to my feet and unlatched the door. Natalie was right there. And the instant she took in my appearance, I was wrapped up in a hug so tight, I could barely breathe.

It felt good.

And, of course, just made me cry some more.

“Oh, Evie, what’s going on?” She drew back to meet my gaze. “Whatever it is, we’ll face it together.”

More tears fell. Untangling from her embrace, I grabbed a few squares of toilet paper. I dabbed my cheeks and eyes while Natalie patiently waited for me to get myself together.

I was grateful for that. It gave me time to gather my thoughts. And even though I wanted to be honest and open with her, I didn’t want her to know how bad things were with my mom. She needed to believe that not all relationships between parents and their children were terrible.

And I was genuinely afraid it would remind her of her father and the way he’d controlled her life. For the most part, she’d healed, but what if I triggered something by telling her how much it hurt that my mom was trying to do the exact same thing?

Her motives might not have been as malicious as Natalie’s father’s, but that didn’t make what she was doing right. Who knew what memories this would dredge up for my friend?

I didn’t want her reliving past trauma on my behalf.

“I think the whole thing with Anthony hit me harder than I’d like to admit,” I finally said.