Page 221 of The Havenport Collection

Nora

T he espresso machine was broken, Lydia had called in sick, and I had a massive weekend ahead of me.

The denim recycling event was tomorrow, and Gina and I had so much work to do to get things ready, and then Sunday night, Luke and I were scheduled to fly to New York for my pitch meeting with X-Chrome on Monday morning.

So opening the store was the last thing I needed when I should be huddled over my laptop, refining my presentation. But here I was, uncaffeinated and grumpy, staring out at the gray March morning.

I looked around. No matter how bad a mood I was in, I was always proud of this place. For so long, I had envisioned an environment that celebrated all bodies and empowered all women. And I had built it. Now I just needed to expand further to help more women look and feel their best.

It was a personal mission. I had spent most of my life fighting against my body.

It wanted to be soft and curvy, and I wanted to be model thin.

It was, after all, required in the fashion industry.

I remember going to job interviews and having people stare at my hips with horrified expressions on their faces.

It was an unspoken rule—if you loved fashion you were super thin, end of story.

I ran, I did Pilates, I kick boxed, and I starved, and yet, the T it’s so unattractive. The hyperbole is out of control.”

“Stop,” I shouted. “Just stop gaslighting me. He was an asshole, and I hated every minute I spent in his company.”

Her eyes narrowed and she leaned over the counter. “Get your emotions under control, Nora.”

“No. I’m not doing that. I have feelings, and I like them and I’m going to express them in my own fucking place of business, Mother.”

I waved my arms around, making her flinch.

“I’m tired of pushing everything down. I’m tired of making myself smaller and less offensive to the world.

I’m angry and I’m hurt and I’m ashamed to share DNA with such a selfish cow.

So there. Those are my feelings, and I’m going to keep shouting them at the top of my lungs until you get the message and get the fuck out of my store and my life. ”

“I can’t believe you are speaking to me like this. You are so ungrateful. I only want the best for you. I’m trying to warn you.”

“Fuck off, Mother. You only want what’s best for you, which is to belittle me to make yourself feel better about your empty soulless existence.”

“I can’t believe you, Nora. Don’t call me when this all blows up in your face and you learn the hard way that men like Lucas Kim do not want women like you.”

She stormed out of the door, knocking over a mannequin along the way. I slumped against the counter. All I wanted was to curl up in Luke’s arms and cry. I wanted him to hold me and tell me I was worthy, I was lovable, and my mother was a delusional train wreck.

But that small part of me, that asshole in my brain, worried that my mother was right. That this thing with Luke wouldn’t last, and I would be left heartbroken when he realized he could do better.