“Don’t finish that sentence.” He sits up straighter, as if he wishes he could reach through the phone and grab my face, force my focus to his eyes. “It is infuriating to me how blind you are to your own beauty.” I drop my gaze to the floor, feeling the flush run up my neck. “Look at me, Dahlia.” He doesn’t speak again until I listen. “I’m going to make sure you understand how pretty I find you. Every single piece of you. Every part of your body that made you who you are. All of it is beautiful to me.”
