Page 121 of The One I Hate
“I’m fat and tired and everything hurts.”
I feel the bed move as I bury my head back into my pillow. I don’t know where Simon is finding a place to sit, considering my bed is currently covered in every piece of clothing I own. Hell, I don’t know how he made it into the room considering it’s filled with boxes and bags that I’ve packed to officially move to his place.
“We know my thoughts on this subject, but why are you saying this right now?”
“Why are you like this?”
“Like what?”
I turn again so I can see him. “Nice. And supportive. And wanting to say the polite thing instead of agreeing with me?”
Simon starts gently massaging my back. “Because I’m always going to support you. And tell you how beautiful you are. And contrary to popular belief, I am a nice guy.”
“I think me and four other people in this world know that.”
“The correct number is six. Eleven if you count their kids.”
I laugh and sit up, realizing at this point, I’m only in my bra and underwear. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
“Part of my charm.”
For some reason, this makes me start to cry. In my defense, everything makes me cry these days.
“Hey,” he says, gently taking a finger to wipe away the stray tears. “Reason for tears?”
This is something Simon has started asking me since we now see each other every day. And it’s smart. One time he came into the restaurant and I was crying, and he panicked because I was sitting down. It was really just the onions. Once I started crying after announcing that I got a text from Connor. He thought it was bad news, but it was just a super cute video ofLila and Nuggy. I’m all over the place, and he’s been nothing but wonderful. But asking for a reason is a safeguard for him to know how to navigate.
“Work was horrible today. The construction next door is loud as hell. My pregnancy brain led to multiple orders of burned bacon, and the cherry on top is that my mushroom guy just quit making deliveries.”
“I’m sorry. Anything I can do to help?”
“No. Thank you. I have it handled. I think. Well, I was going to handle it with the mushroom guy, so I came upstairs to change to drive out and see what the hell was up. That was my first mistake because I put on leggings.”
“Am I dumb to ask why that was a mistake?”
My shoulders slump. “Because they didn’t fit. Then I put on my trusty, go-to, ratty sweatpants. And they didn’t fit. Next thing I knew I tried on every piece of clothing I owned and nothing fit. Which is why I’m sitting here nearly naked and I don’t have maternity clothes. And I know my body is changing and this day was going to happen, but I didn’t know it would be today…”
“I’m sorry,” Simon says, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Do you need to go shopping?”
“Yes? No. Probably. I don’t have the extra cash right now for new clothes.”
Simon narrows his eyes at me.
“Let’s not get into a money spat,” I say, knowing that this conversation has the possibility of turning into that. I’m getting better with accepting Simon paying for stuff—even after the stupid expensive crib—but I’m not completely comfortable yet. “It’s not just the pain in the ass of needing new clothes.”
“What is it?”
I take in a breath, wanting to think about how I phrase this next part. “You know how I feel, and have felt, about my body.”
He nods but doesn’t say anything.
“Over the past few years, I had finally come to terms with the fact that I’m a bigger woman. And I didn’t hate my body anymore. I didn’t love it, but I was comfortable. Mostly. Sometimes even confident. Never sex with lights on, as you know, but I was mostly okay.”
Simon’s eyes narrow even further. “Can you say what you need to say without talking about other men?”
His jealousy is funny to me. Even when I hated him, somewhere in the back of my mind I knew no other man compared. “Sorry.”
“Apology accepted.” He tops off the apology with a kiss on my forehead, which eases me in a way I don’t know he realizes.
