14 - Aaron

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"Would you care for something to drink—water, juice, soda, anything?"

"I could use a glass of water," Sloane accepted as she sat at the table.

I felt she hadn't eaten anything after not seeing any dishes in her sink or any evidence that she had eaten anything recently, so I asked, "Are you hungry? I can make you something to eat, too."

She shook her head.

As the water from the fridge filled her glass, I looked at Sloane, asking, "When was the last time you ate?"

She looked away, mumbling, "It doesn't matter."

I brought the glass of water to her, set it down, then cupped her chin and turned it my way, telling her, "It does matter. You can't starve yourself. You'll make yourself sick."

"I'm fine."

"Don't lie to me. Tell me, Sloane. What are you hungry for?"

"I'm not hungry," she heavily insisted, so I lifted a brow, letting her know I didn't believe her. "Aaron, really. I'm not hungry."

"Quit being stubborn. If I ordered us a pizza, would you eat it?"

I only suggested pizza because I knew it was her favorite, something we often ordered when we were kids while studying together, or if we had things we needed to talk to each other about.

I hope that ordering pizza and getting her to eat will be the ticket to her opening up more to me.

A hint of a smile appeared on her lips as she said, "A Supreme with extra green olives?"

I returned the smile. "The only kind to eat. Do you still like deep dish?"

She frowned. "That's fattening."

I shrugged. "So?"

"I could stand to lose some weight," she sighed.

"Sloane, stop it. You're perfect."

Her eyes lowered. "No, I'm not, and you know it."

I lifted her chin, asking her to look at me. "Trust me. You're fine. You're gorgeous, Sloane. You always were and are even more now than when we were kids."

"Shut up," she hissed. "Now you're the one lying."

I lowered to her level, looked into her beautiful, saddened eyes, and said, "I'm not lying. It's the goddamn truth."

She swallowed, her eyes still on mine. "Just the other day, you hated my guts. You couldn't even look at me. And I didn't blame you one bit for it. I'm ugly, fat, and a huge fucking cunt."

All right, that's it.

Now she's pissing me off.

"I'm ordering us that pizza, and then we're going to talk. Okay? A heart-to-heart fucking talk."

"Okay," she whispered, the word barely leaving her lips.

I grabbed my phone off the counter, called and ordered our pizza, then offered Sloane my hand.

When she took it, I walked her to the oversized mirror in the second living room, and with me standing behind her, I held her firmly in front of me and made her look at her reflection in the mirror.

"Tell me what you see, Sloane. I want to hear from your lips what you're seeing exactly. Because I see nothing you just told me in the kitchen."

She looked down instead of looking at her reflection in the mirror.

"Look up, Sloane. Look at yourself. I want to hear what you see, and then I'll tell you what I see. Okay?"

Her eyes turned glossy when she looked at herself. Finally, she said, "I see horror. Ugly hideous scars that embarrass me everywhere I go. I see a fat, ugly slob that shouldn't be out and about. I can't even wear my bikini anymore since my belly is nothing but fat and stretch marks. My hips are fucking huge, and I have thunder thighs that blinds anyone that sees them." She sighed heavily as a tear strolled down her cheek. "The best way I can describe me is Chet from Weird Science when he was turned into that talking mutant blob."

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