Eleven

Chapter Twenty-One: Big Girls Don't Cry

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

"Arghhh!" I shouted, sucking in my stomach and imagining it was the size of a toothpick as I heaved the button and buttonhole together with as much force as I could muster.

They barely even budged.

"No, no, no," I whispered on a whine, pulling again with a grunt as I leaned against the foot of my bed. My face scrunched with the effort I was using, and my fingers were turning white as I gripped at my jeans.

Nothing.

"Come on!" I urged, groaning and tugging with as much muscle as I could muster while hopping in place on the carpet.

But the material refused to even acknowledge my pitiful attempts.

I gave up, fingers numb as they slipped off of the stupidest pair of jeans I'd ever had in my life. I fell back against the bed, bouncing on the comforter as blonde hair fell over my face.

"Sang, are you ready?" Victor's baritone voice called from the hallway so sweetly, and I felt my face crumple from his kindness.

Well, that and the fact that I was too fat to button my jeans anymore.

"Sang?" Victor called again when I couldn't get my throat to work properly. I cleared it, trying to pull myself together before I answered.

"Almost," I called back, voice a little wobbly as I blinked back the impending tears.

There were a few beats of silence as I briefly closed my eyes and took a deep breath, but then Victor was turning the corner into my room and I was surrounded by berries and moss as he came to my side.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." I sniffled back the tears, crossing both arms over my face to hide from his well meant concern. It felt glaringly obvious as I was lying on my back with my jeans both unzipped and unbuttoned.

I was fat.

"Sang," Victor murmured, and the bed dipped down next to me as he sat. "It seems like something is wrong."

"Nothing's wrong, Victor." I sighed, causing strands of hair to fly up over my mouth before landing back down. I rolled a bit to the side away from him, feeling too ashamed to face my attractive husband when I felt uglier than a gigantic opossum that had been dropped in the mud. "I'm just..."

Victor's hand met my shoulder, rubbing gently until his fingers slid down my side and traced each individual rib. "You're...?"

"I'm...." I sighed again, letting my arms fall as I continued my roll until I was facedown against the comforter. My voice was muffled and sullen against the sheets as I admitted, "I'm fat."

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that," Victor remarked with a hint of amusement. His hand slid over to my side and rolled me back over until my back was against the bed. I took a deep breath before opening my eyes to see his simmering ones gazing back down at me. "You're what?"

"I'm fat," I declared bluntly, my lower lip pushing out into a pathetic pout as I lied there uselessly. "I can't button my jeans."

Victor's eyes trailed down to my stomach, where my shirt had dragged itself up from all of the rolling, and my midriff was revealed. Light pink underwear could be seen where the stupid jeans refused to button.

His eyes lit up, a smile blossoming across his handsome face as he took in the slight baby bump.

"You're not fat, Sang. You're pregnant," Victor assured me reasonably, his hand inching from my side to splay over my lower stomach. "You're starting to show."