I poke my head inside.
I can’t believe my eyes.“He bought those for… me?”
“I believe they’re in your size. He said something about the Hamptons a year ago. I didn’t get it, but he said it was significant.”
Tears needle at the corner of my eyes.
I bite my lower lip so they don’t slip out.
On the day I attended the double birthday party at Kaz’s cottage, I was wearing the blue Hangisi Manolo Blahniks I had saved up an entire year to buy. Back in the day, I was debt-free, and determined to remain that way. My beloved shoes werethe first item of value I sold to a secondhand store to help keep my head above water. I died inside when the clerk told me how much I would get if they sold––a fraction of what I paid for them.
I pick up one shoe and flip it over.
My stupor deepens.
Kaz remembered the designer and my shoe size?
The first three dresses I tried on either weren’t my style or they didn’t suit my petite body. As I wait for Judith to return with a few other selections, I pace around the changing room wearing the latest reject with my eyes glued to my beautiful new shoes.
I can’t believe I get to own these again.
How can I ever repay Kaz for his generosity?
I’m sure he wants me to look the part, but he didn’t have to drop that kind of money on shoes.
My phone rings.
I rush to the chair in the corner of the changing room and rummage through my handbag. I grimace when I see the name on the screen.
Shit.
I can’t keep avoiding her.
As I debate if I should let my best friend’s call go to voicemail, it hits me.
I’m not in my shitty basement apartment.
With a smile stretching my lips, I accept the video call.
“Harl,” Ciara says.
“Ci,” I say her name with as much enthusiasm.
“You look radiant,” she says.
My best friend is looking at me through rose-colored spectacles. I’m not wearing any makeup and the bags underneath my eyes are impossible to miss. I had another nightmare last night. Kaz was close by to comfort me. I’m so glad I didn’t protest him sleeping in the armchair again.
“Radiant?” I scoff. “For the first time in the history of mankind, dressing room lighting is working in my favor.”
She squints. “Are you shopping?”
I nod. “I am. I’m attending a charity event tonight.”
Since I’ve been hiding how bad things are for me from Ciara, every time we’ve had a video call, I’ve made sure to be standing in front of a white wall inside my apartment, so she wouldn’t be able to tell I no longer lived in the house I used to own. The timing of this call couldn’t be better because I can offer a different background.
“You’re so lucky. You get to shop. Nothing fits this body.” She points down. “Look.” She lowers her phone to her round belly.
It’s so much bigger than the last time I saw it.
