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310 pages, Kindle Edition
First published October 12, 2021
I exhale roughly as I hold his gaze. The pain is so great. I want to cover his body with mine and protect him from the fear and pain he is experiencing. I want to make it all better, but I know I can’t. “I’m proud of you, Evan. I know this isn’t easy.”
We’re both massive in height, with matching dark hair, but I’m stockier. I don’t have the muscle definition he has. Pretty sure I have a thyroid disease like my mom and sister, but I refuse to find out the truth. I just stay a wee bit chubby and use that weight to knock people into the boards. I may not look fit, but I’m fast as hell and know how to use my body to my advantage.
I’ve always had a rounder face than Evan. His is more chiseled, but again, I’m not lacking in the good looks department. He may be adorable, but I’ve had girls call me “Daddy” on more than one occasion.
Yes, everyone has gained weight, especially the women, but they had kids and they’re happy. I’m a stressed-out college student who was almost raped and has really bad biological daddy issues. I just feel like I should be doing better. I come from greatness, but I’m not even an ounce of great.
Once I hang up, I look down at my lap and exhale. The fabric of my scrubs is tight against my thighs, and I have a little bit of a belly. My breasts are huge from the weight gain, I’m big all over, and I know I look disgusting. How pathetic is it that I won’t see my parents because I’m overweight? They love me. I know they do. They wouldn’t care; they’d be supportive. I know this, but I’m just so embarrassed.
Has she put on weight? Yes, but so have I! So has anyone who’s aged. We aren’t meant to stay in our child-size bodies. That’s what makes us adults. Some chunk? Fucking hell!
Don’t get me wrong; I’m not naïve to the fact that the world holds women to a different standard and forces them to think they need to be a size that is acceptable to them, but I was raised by Elli Adler. She’s always been thicker than other moms, but no matter what, everyone knew she was a force to be reckoned with. Everyone knew my mom was more than her size. Even my sister Posey is on the thicker side, and depending on the week, Shelli can be too. I see nothing wrong with this.
Hell, if I don’t take a good shit every day, I look pregnant.
I smile widely, feeling all important and shit. My parents love hard, always have been that way. One would think I would be sick of being told I’m loved and that they’re proud of me, but each time is like the first. They’re special people, and I want a love like theirs.
“Just saying,” he says simply. “You aren’t big or fat. You’re chubby. Chubby sexy, in my opinion.”
“Yes. Like your chub makes me want to get lost in your body and never come out alive.”
“It’s not, though. I mean, I look at myself, and I don’t see what you see. It’s so frustrating that I allowed myself to get to where I am. I came here and just dove into school and work. I hardly ate because I was homesick, and then when I would, I’d eat everything I saw because I was so hungry. I lived off candy and iced coffees for a year before I realized I was gaining so much weight.”
“Which is okay,” he insists. “You were healing, Angie. You can’t hate a body for doing what it had to do to help your mind heal.”
He stares into my eyes. “Exactly. Angie, I know for a fact that I’m gonna enjoy your body—stretch marks, chub, and all. I, for one, am excited to play with the threat of suffocation once I get between your legs.”
I can’t even look at Angie, I’m so pissed at her. I thought she had overcome her body image issues. She was scared about her parents, and they loved her right through that. Our sex is unbelievable, but I’ve been so blinded by her, I didn’t even notice that I never fully got her naked. Like, how pathetic is that? She mesmerized me and hid herself from me, the one person who loves even a pimple on her ass. I’ve made that known, yet she still hid. Angie knew how much I wanted her to feel comfortable and love herself, but I’m left feeling played. It’s a really crappy feeling.