Page 78 of Meant to Be

JOSIE

Hours later, darkness wraps around me as I stare up at the ceiling. I listen to the cicadas in the trees outside the window. The air is hot and thick, making me feel like I’m drawing in unnecessarily deep breaths.

I push myself onto my side and check for the third time that the pedestal fan at the foot of my bed is on as high as it can go. Groaning, I flop back down, feeling my shirt stick to me.

My phone vibrates from underneath my pillow, startling me. I blindly grope for it, not remembering the last time I even used it.

Elliot.

My heart jolts as I read the name flashing on my screen. My mind drifts, thinking about those dark eyes, his black hair, that devilish grin that used to make me do whatever he wanted.

It’s been three months since the incident at the carnival. Since then, Elliot had been everything a girl could hope for. Taking me out for dinners, surprising me with flowers, and even organised a weekend getaway. The incident—which is what I refer to as the time Elliot’s fist ran into my face—seems less and less real. Sometimes I wonder if I imagined the entire thing.

Elliot strolls into the room and leans against the door frame.

“What are you wearing tonight?” he asks.

I swivel in my seat. The black suit looks almost too good on his tall, thin body. He has a way of pulling off suits in a way that actors do. So handsome that you wonder if heisfamous. The old me could never have walked into a party by his side. Even with my enhancements, I still felt like it wasn’t enough.

“There’s a pink dress I bought a while ago that I haven’t worn yet, so I think I’ll go with that,” I answer. “You look dashing, by the way.”

“Thank you,” he says in his clipped tone that always sounds like he doesn’t mean it. But the arrogance that he usually possesses isn’t here tonight. It has been absent for a while, and I’ve enjoyed it. “But no, that’s not what you’re wearing.”

I place my makeup brush down with a clatter. Elliot dictating what I wear has been a topic of many arguments between us. Anger heats my cheeks.

“Because,” he continues casually, a coy smile on his face, “I bought you something.”

“What?”

I wince a little when I see the annoyance flash across his face. He hates when I say that.

“I mean, pardon?” I quickly amend.

“This is for you.”

He steps into the closet and reappears with a garment bag. I get to my feet quickly and feel a little dizzy, the two glasses of wine having gone straight to my head.

“For me?” I whisper.

He smiles, enjoying my reaction. “For you.”

He holds it steady as I unzip it. A stunning red gown is inside. A bright, fiery red. A red meant for someone special. This dress is too much. Too gorgeous. I am not worthy.

“Oh, Elliot,” I gush. “This is … I have no words to describe how incredible this is.”

“Try it on.” He smirks.

The dress fits me like a glove. A red, silky glove. The neckline is poised so low that my boobs poke out a little too aggressively. Inside the garment bag was also a string of pearls that screams money. More money than my entire family would have combined.

When we walk through the front door of the event, I feel ecstatic at the turn of heads and dropped jaws. I’ve always wanted this. This moment.

“Smile,” Elliot says through gritted teeth, his arm a little firm on mine. “And suck in your stomach.”

My insides tighten. My smile widens, and I try to ignore his words, not wanting him to ruin this moment. This is the first time in my life I have finally been happy with my weight and appearance,and yet, Elliot undid it all with a few words.

Cameras flash in my face, making me go blind for a few moments.

Elliot kisses my cheek, and I pull away for a moment, not realising that I even had, until his fingers bite into my arm, holding me in place, and I blink into the faces and cameras, hoping my distress doesn’t show. It has been so good these last couple months, and now all the things I dislike about Elliot are creeping back.