Her expression flitted between warring emotions in a matter of seconds. Compassion, hurt, rage.
“You mean faceless people you don’t know and who don’t know you? Anonymous people on social media that only show you their highlight reels? Celebrities with motives that influence what they show to the public?”
“But I want tolooklike them,” I whined. “I want to walk into a store and pick up a size 8 without having to try it on. Again, like a normal woman.”
Repositioning on her bed, she shook her head. “Do you honestly think that’s how the majority of women live?” she scoffed. “It’s not, my girl. We all have our insecurities and hang-ups, the bone-thin models on those covers as well, who feel pressure to meet other people’s expectations.”
Leaning against the tall, ugly mirrors, my eyes catching on the blinking fluorescent lights above, I answered, “I just want to feel beautiful. Lose all this weight and feel beautiful.”
“There’s nothing inherently wrong with that. If you want to lose some weight safely, go for it. But not because you thinkthat’swhat will make you feel beautiful. Youarebeautiful, Vicky. If you don’t think you deserve to feel beautiful right now, righthere, in this version of your body, then that’s a deeper issue.”
I sniffled and nodded. “I know. I know. You’re right.”
“Then let me say it again and again. Outward beauty, size 8 jeans, does not equate or define your worth. If you don’t love yourself, as is, inallyour versions, in all your seasons, in every way, your life will be so much less than it can and should be. Do you hear me?” she asked passionately.
Nodding slowly, I answered, “I hear you.”
Taking a deep breath in, she wiped her own tears and said authoritatively, “Then stand your beautiful butt up and take another look in that stupid mirror.”
I huffed out a laugh and rolled my eyes, standing to face my nemesis. “’And another thing. Bring a few outfits home next time. No one, and I meanno one, looks good in that lighting,” she added with a look of disdain at my surroundings.
I looked at the way the corset-style “snatched” my waistline, a term I’d learned on TikTok from a few heavier models I followed. Turning slightly from side to side, I could see the appeal Corinna mentioned. It hugged my curves at the top, then skimmed over my dreaded middle that I always tried to hide.
“Guess it’s not so bad,” I said, mostly to myself.
“Got that right, my goddess. You look like something out of a fairytale. Any man seeing you at the party tonight is going to be clambering to get your number.”
Before I could reply, the screen was filled with my burly brother, who had entered the room, probably looking for his wife. The expression on his face told me he had heard her, too.
“No men. No parties. No giving out your number,” he roared.
Corinna playfully slapped his arm and tried to push him away from the phone, but it was no use. The man was as solid as a rock.
“Enzo,” I groused. “You need to stop. I’m a grown woman living on her own in another country, I might add,” Miles’ words giving me confidence.
“Amor, she’s going to a work party. And she’s right. You need to stop treating her like a child. Just stop,” she said, her words getting more forceful when he tried to interrupt.
He ran a hand roughly over his short hair with a grunt.
“I just don’t want you to get distracted. Or hurt.”
“I know that. You’ve been saying that in every text you’ve sent me since I got here. I’m gaining new clients, working hard, and my boss has said I’m doing well. My eyes are focused on my career. Tonight is just a party I helped with for Miles and his employees.” I lifted my head in a clear attempt to assert my own authority when the mention of that name made him growl. “I’m a grown woman, and I’m tired of how you treat me.”
Corinna pressed her lips together, her eyebrows raising, her smile not lost on either Lazzara on the call.
With an exhale, my brother answered, “I don’t know how to do that. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try.”
I smiled wide like I’d won a hard-fought victory, but my celebration was quickly shut down as he peered closer, his face getting ridiculously bigger with the movement.
“You can’t wear that dress,” he grumbled. “It’s, it’s showing too much…”
“Assets? Yes, my love. Get over it. She’s got them.” His horrified face disappeared as her face filled the screen. She mouthed, “go!”
She didn’t need to tell me twice as I fumbled to end the call. With one more glance over my body, I heard the knock of the attendant again.
“Need me to find you anything in another size, miss?”
With a widening smile, I answered, “No, thanks. I’ve got the perfect size.”
