AMIRA
Saturday
March 20, 2021
Roman has always had the power to make me feel safe and comfortable. After our phone call, it was as if the pressure sitting on my chest dissipated, and I could fully enjoy my day out.
The rest of our lunch is filled with obnoxious snorts of laughter and multiple rounds of food. I don’t even bother trying to contain my happiness, as Eden shares disturbing tales of her sex life.
We pay the bill, each of us putting money down before we head out.
“This was the best day I’ve had in a long fucking time. We have to do this again!” Eden exclaims, wrapping her arms around our shoulders as we walk through the garden to the front of the restaurant.
Today was a good day. One I didn’t know I needed until I accepted Sage’s invitation.
“You guys aren’t tired, right? Food coma isn’t putting you out?”
Sage and I share a glance before shaking our heads. “No. We’re good.”
“Fuck yeah! Now, let’s go shopping!” she shouts, rushing over to her cute red Volkswagen beetle.
Eden waits to pull out of her parking spot until Sage starts her truck and begins to back out, driving down the busy street.
“How did you like lunch? I know Eden is a bit much, but she’s really great,” Sage asks, sounding apprehensive and hopeful that I enjoyed my time. It’s kind of Sage to care so much.
It’s a new feeling.
“That was the most fun I’ve had in a really,reallylong time. Thank you for inviting me.” I toy with the zipper on my purse to keep the overwhelming current of emotions out of my voice.
We stop ten minutes later at a little boutique.
As we exit our vehicle, Eden walks from her car and steps between us, holding our hands while we strut into the store.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve never held hands. Sometimes even holding Roman’s makes my skin itchy with nerves. And I’m not sure why, chalk it up to the group of men lounging on the sidewalk, eyeing the three of us up and down, but for some reason, feeling Sage’s and Eden’s firm grip on mine gives me a sense of comfort.
Security.
A bell jingles above our heads as we step into the store.
Eden and Sage cut through the boutique like lightning, heading straight for the lingerie section in the back, leaving me to stand alone in front of the entrance, right beside the maternity clothing.
I let my mind drift to a faraway place and imagine myself needing these clothes one day. A long, flowing dress dancing around my bare feet as Roman cradles my growing stomach. For a moment, I let myself believe we’re an average couple experiencing one of life’s greatest joys. But then I hear someone calling my name, and the vision vanishes in a flash, taking me out of my fantasy to throw me back into reality.
“Come back here!” Eden shouts, beckoning me over with a wave of her newly manicured hand.
Dropping my hand from the dress I didn’t realize I was gripping onto, I rush to the back of the store, eyeing all the clothes I don’t have the courage to wear on the way.
“Take this! It would look so sexy on you,” Eden says, shoving a velvet, black cocktail dress into my chest.
I’m holding the dress to my bodice, gazing down at the beautiful stitching and expertly crafted beadwork along the neckline.
Roman would fall in love.
“No. I don’t think this is me,” I say regretfully, placing it back on the metal rack where she picked it out from.
I feel along the fabric for a second longer before moving away. No need to look at a dress I’ll never wear.
“You really would look amazing in that dress,” Sage assures, cornering me in between the silk thongs and nighttime wear. I stare past her shoulder, eyes locking on the cocktail dress.
