𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥 - TMR AU, Thomas

𝟢𝟥𝟪，𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝

༺ THIRTY - EIGHT ༻

Everything is falling apart. Thomas has traffic delay, so he has to stay an extra night in some motel because the adults refused to drive through the night, my weight loss isn't going as fast as before, and Newt keeps staring at me with that stupid look on his face.

The other thing I'm not prepared for, is the fact Luca invited my whole family over for a dinner. It's so random that I almost fell off my chair when he mentioned it, but apparently he does it with every employee, to reassure the parents the restaurant is fine, and to get closer to his colleagues.

I'm not comfortable with this. Pizza on the table. On my plate, also. Everyone's eating, I'm staring. I don't feel good anymore. I feel sick. I don't know if I mean physically or mentally, but I don't have any appetite. Just want to hold my stomach until the cramps vanish. Want to keep adding more concealer so I look approachable.

"Ah, I wish I worked here, sometimes," Dad says, chuckling. "Must be nice to eat Italian every work day, right, Rose?"

"Right," I say.

"She doesn't always eat dinner here," Luca says, chuckling too. He's too oblivious, I think. He doesn't see my pleading eyes, begging him to not spill this secret.

"That's because Thomas and I eat in his car," I say. It's the truth. I don't mention what I do after eating, but they don't have to know.

"True," Luca says. "Now Thomas isn't here—I miss him, by the way—I'll try not to take it as an offense you still eat at home every night. Not even my gnocchi is accepted!"

Deep shit.

All eyes are on me, and I shrink.

I've told my family I eat at Mamma Mia, and I've told Luca I eat at home.

"I often change the rhythm," I say fast. "I mean, I sometimes pick some leftovers at home and eat those and sometimes I eat here."

I took a few bites at home and maybe a few bites here. That must count.

Then Newt changes the subject to the class he sometimes teaches to sometimes, and I'll be forever grateful for that.

✵

"Mom, please don't." I escape from her arms before she even manages to wrap them around me once we're back home. The ride back was silent, and now Mom almost seems to be in tears.

"We should've noticed—"

"There's nothing to notice," I say. I want to yell the words, but I don't have the energy to. I just want to lie in bed. In Thomas's arms. The one who won't judge me in a way others do. He won't force me to do anything.

Luckily, I'm wearing big clothes so no one can really see my body below it, but Sonya knows too much by now.

"Mom—" I try, but it doesn't work because she's already sending Sonya and Newt upstairs. Then I look at Dad with desperate eyes. "Please, there's nothing going on."

"Love, it's okay if there is things going on. We want to help you. It just comes as a shock—"

"What comes as a shock?" I snap. "What exactly do you think it means I might not be eating a few dinners that well? That I'm immediately some kind of mentally ill patie—"

"Rose—"

"Just weigh me, then," I say. "Give me three seconds to remove my shoes in privacy and then weigh me."

"We don't want to base anything of your weight, love." Mom steps closer. "We want to hear things from you. If you're struggling, because now that we found out about this it's kind of connecting all the dots, we only want to help. It doesn't matter if the process is slow or hard or—"