Page 41 of Worth Every Moment

I stand and grab his hand. “Erica.” He still looks confused. “Lefroy,” I clarify.

“Oh. Yes,” he stammers. “I thought I recognised you. I’m Mr Williams.”

“You understand,” Mum purrs from her seat. “We have to be discreet.”

“Quite.” He sits and checks his notes, then looks up at me. “Breast enhancement?” I say nothing.I don’t want this.

“Yes,” Mum replies. “Maybe a couple of cup sizes bigger? Erica’s always been rather modest in that department. Unwomanly. Extremely unfeminine, actually.”

What the fuck?

The surgeon looks awkwardly down at his papers. “I wouldn’t say that. Any kind of surgery requires careful consideration and psychological preparation. Do you want this, Miss Lefroy?”

He stares me right in the eye. I’m pretty sure he can tell that I don’t want this. It might as well be scrawled over my forehead that I’m here under duress.

“Of course she does,” Mum replies.

The surgeon’s eyes flicker. “Miss Lefroy?”

Mum’s intention pulses against my left side like her thoughts are creating a force field. There is only one answer here.

“Yes,” I say, but the self-betrayal makes me want to scream.

Beside me, Mum lets out a relieved sigh. “Yes, and while we’re here, can we ask about that bump on her nose?”

I flinch.

The surgeon frowns. “Rhinoplasties are not my specialty—”

“But could we get it shaved off? Can’t you do it with laser now, so her nose wouldn’t need to be broken? She wouldn’t get black eyes and have to miss work? Reduced swelling?” Mum leans across and grabs my chin, tilting my head to a certain angle so the surgeon can see what she means. “Right here.” She taps a spot on the bridge of my nose. “If we could get rid of it, she’d be absolutely perfect from every angle, and I could stop having to remind her to keep her head tilted west-southwest in public. That would lighten my mental load tremendously.”

I trace the bridge of my nose with my index finger. There’s nothing wrong with the shape of it. Intellectually, I know that. But Mum is fixated on ironing out perceived imperfections, and apparently, I have a lot of them. It feels like shit to have my features dissected this way, as though I’m not even here, and by the person who’s supposed to love and protect me.

“Perhaps you have a colleague who could deal with it?” Mum says.

The surgeon’s face hardens. “I wouldn’t recommend anyone touch Miss Lefroy’s nose. We have plenty of clients who come in requesting the Lefroy nose. This is what people aspire to—”

“Ha! They can’t have seen her close up,” Mum barks.

I stare at the floor, a lump rising in my throat. For years, I’ve accepted everything Mum has said as though it was the gospel truth. I’ve done what she wanted. Obeyed all the rules. I have no idea who I am without the framework she’s erected for my life, but listening to her talk to the surgeon really brings it home that she doesn’t actually care aboutmeat all. She’s not on my team, and whatever I want to do from this point on, I have to do it alone.

The surgeon’s jaw flexes. “Surgery is not a matter to be taken lightly. There are no guarantees—”

“We know all that,” Mum says. “But where there’s no pain, there’s no gain. Isn’t that right, Erica?”

Resentment simmers in my blood.Where is Mum’s pain? Who’s going under the knife here? Me or her? Or maybe it’s that ‘us’ she keeps talking about.

Fuck. This.

I stand and lean across the desk, holding out my hand. “Thank you for you time, Mr Williams. I won’t be taking this any further.”

He grips my hand, a slight smile warming his face. “Miss Lefroy. I wish you all the best.”

I thank him again as I stuff my hat and sunglasses into my bag and turn to leave, striding across the room and letting myself out.

“Erica,” Mum yelps. “Where are you going? Put your hat on! Someone will see you.” I keep moving and she calls, “We’re not finished.”

“I’m finished,” I respond as I trot down the wide staircase of what must have once been a glamorous London townhouse.