The Strip

Part 21

Rebecca POV;

"What should I wear?"

The resounding groan from your sister ignites a blush on your cheeks.

"Just wear what you'd normally wear. Freen loves you and the question is going to mean more than the outfit."

You cast a scathing glance toward your sister on video chat. "I can't wear what I normally wear, Amelia. First of all, leather and black wouldn't be appropriate for where we're going."

"I didn't realize you were a closet dominatrix, Bec."

"Fuck you. Secondly... This is special . I'm taking her to a special restaurant and it's a special occasion and Freen is just..." you sigh and run a shaky handover your face.

"Special?" Amelia chirps.

Suddenly, the crushing weight of not being special enough sends your entire body backwards into your mattress. An extended silence falls over your conversation with your sister as you fight to bury the guilt-riddled self flagellation.

"The black suit you used to wear when you'd be trying to close a deal at work," Amelia finally suggests gently, soft words to pull you from the abyss you're struggling to stop yourself from falling into. "It used to be your lucky suit. You'd close every deal when you wore it. And you haven't worn it since you quit. It was a statement piece. You'll probably leave her speechless."

"I need her to say yes, not invest half her life savings," you groan, eyes covered by your forearm.

Amelia sighs, her offer to pull you from your own torment rejected. "Sounds like marriage to me."

Your head shakes beneath your forearm, admonishing yourself for... admonishing yourself, which, in hindsight, seems to be counterproductive to this process.

" It really does look nice on you, Bec. And you can put a new memory to it instead of all the soul-crushing ones from before."

"Thank you," you whisper after a long, long moment. You remove your arm from your eyes to give your sister a meaningful look through the screen..

She nods once. "Freen will say yes."

You somehow manage a hopeful, yet still nervous, smile.

***

Three hours later, you're in front of Freen's apartment - your apartment - door, hands shaking around a bouquet of flowers and heart racing.

"Okay, Rebecca, you can do this," you mutter as you fumble for your key. You have to take several calming breaths to get your fingers to stop shaking long enough to separate the apartment key from the rest.

You let your hands and heart settle for a second, your mind suddenly stuck on when this apartment became yours .

It could have been the first time you felt like you overstayed your welcome, hours after your date with Freen had begun, the sun slowly creeping into the sky to welcome the new day. You leaned over to place a goodbye kiss to her sweaty forehead, but she called you an idiot, grabbed your neck and pulled you in for a deeper, longer kiss, until you ended up back in bed, watching the sun set on another day.

It could have been the time you watched her get ready for work, your eyes tired from looking at reels of pictures all day but fascinated with th way the sun picked out the shades of gold in her hair. She made a silly face at you when she caught you staring, so you pretended to be working until she finished. She wandered over, scratched her short nails through your wild mane and pointed at the photograph on your screen.