Chapter 36

Hannah

Viona and I stepped out of the nail salon, freshly manicured and ready to take on the world—or at the very least, a tedious dinner engagement with my soon-to-be ex-husband and his would-be mistress.

“That color looks perfect on you,” Viona said, admiring her glossy pink nails as we strolled down the street. “And they’re so… long.”

I hummed in agreement as I admired my own nails. I usually kept my nails clipped relatively short with nude or pink polish, but lately… that just didn’t feel like me anymore. This time, I had gone for deep crimson, almond-shaped acrylics. And I was glad I did.

As we passed by a shop window, something vibrant caught my eye, making me pause. It was a deep emerald green mini dress, not too short and not too long, with long sleeves and a square neckline and a fitted skirt. Perfect for dinner.

“Oh, that’s gorgeous,” Viona breathed, immediately stopping in her tracks to admire the dress with me. “You should try it on.”

“You really think so?” I frowned, biting my lip as my eyes caught my reflection in the window—still skinny as hell, despite my recent attempts to eat more. “I doubt they’ll even have it in the right size.”

Viona shot me an incredulous look over her shoulder, already making her way toward the door. “There’s no harm in trying it, right?” she asked. “And besides, the whole reason we went out today is so you can look your best tonight.”

At the mention of tonight, a tiny tendril of dread unfurled in my chest. Tonight, I would be going out to dinner with Noah, Zoe, and Drake. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to it, but… Viona was right. I did want to look my best.

“Alright. I’ll try it on.” Squaring my shoulders, I followed Viona into the boutique, the cheerful tinkling of the door chime ringing in my ears.

Once inside, Viona made a beeline for the emerald dress, plucking it off the rack and thrusting it toward me expectantly. I took it with a weary sigh, watching as she ran her hand through a rack of blue sundresses. She pulled one out and held it up to herself in the mirror, turning this way and that.

“That blue matches your eyes,” I said with a smile, sidling up behind her. I caught another glimpse of myself, and let out a tiny huff of air.

My own eyes had been looking a little less sunken lately, at least. That morning, I had had an entire slice of avocado toast and had even added cream to my coffee. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Although, I had been mentally beating myself up ever since then, which wasn’t healthy.

Viona smiled and turned to face me. “I think I’ll try it on. Come on, let’s go.”

“Remind me again why I agreed to go to this at all?” I muttered as Viona herded me toward the dressing rooms.

She shrugged, one perfectly sculpted brow arching up. “Because saying no would make Nightcrest look weak—and potentially ruin our chances of hosting the Lunar Festival this year?”

I scowled as I stepped into the tiny fitting room, already shimmying out of my clothes. Why did I always somehow wind up wearing jeans and tight sweaters when I was trying on clothes? “Right. Because that’s far more important than my own peace of mind, apparently,” I said with a laugh.

There was a humorless chuckle from the other side of the divider. “You’ll be fine. It’s just dinner, and besides—Drake and Zoe and Noah will do enough arguing for you to be able to just stay quiet and pretend you’re not there.”

Gritting my teeth, I said nothing as I tugged the soft fabric over my hips. Already, I could feel the familiar tightness in my chest beginning to build. I shouldn’t have eaten this morning, I thought to myself against my better judgment. I look…

“Well, who knows?” Viona went on, blissfully ignorant to my inner turmoil. “Maybe this dinner will actually convince Zoe and Drake to get back together. Then at least you’d have one less thorn in your side to deal with, right?”

Wrong.

With the dress zipped up all the way, the clingy material embraced every dip and curve of my body in a way that was... less than flattering, to say the least. I froze, staring at my reflection with a creeping sense of dread and shortness of breath.

There was the slightest swell of my belly visible through the fabric, just a tiny hint of softness that shouldn’t even be there—

“You about ready in there, Hannah?” Viona’s voice jolted me out of my thoughts. “Let’s see how it looks!”

“J-Just a second,” I stammered, struggling to tear my gaze away from the mirror as I began tugging and adjusting the fabric, desperate to hide that one small imperfection—that tiny bulge in my lower belly, something that I always thought was normal and beautiful on everyone except myself.

But no amount of fussing could disguise the truth. I knew deep down this wasn’t a question of an ill-fitting dress—it was my own body that was the problem, soft and ugly and—

“Hannah? You okay?”

“Fine!” I squeaked out, my head spinning as I hastily unzipped the dress and tore it off over my head.

By the time I emerged from the dressing room, clutching the crumpled wad of green fabric to my chest and dressed in my jeans and sweater again, Viona was regarding me with open concern.

“You don’t like it?” she ventured carefully.

I swallowed hard, my throat working against the lump of anxiety that had lodged itself there. “I just... maybe we should try something else? Something a little looser, you know?”

Understanding flickered in Viona’s eyes then as she held out a hand to stop me. “Hannah... This isn’t one of your relapse moments, is it?”

Of course she could see right through me—she always could. I opened my mouth to protest, to wave her off, but one look at her severe expression had the excuse dying on my lips.

“Look,” Viona said in a low, gentle tone. “I know tonight is going to be hard for you, seeing Zoe and all. But you’ve been making such amazing progress with your recovery. Don’t let any of these assholes derail all of that hard work, okay?”

A flush crept up my cheeks as I averted my gaze, abruptly feeling very small and childish. “I know, I know... It’s just…”

With a sigh, Viona reached out and squeezed my arm, her eyes warm and steady. “Look. If you’re really struggling, just say the word, and you and I can skip out on the group meeting tomorrow night. But I really think that going, even just once, would be amazing for you.”

I worried my lip between my teeth, thinking back on our upcoming Saturday night plans: the local eating disorder support group. I had promised Viona that I would go, so long as she went with me. And I really didn’t want to break that promise.

“Don’t worry,” I said after a long moment. “I’ll still go.”

Viona beamed at me as I turned to hang the green dress back up. We ended up picking out a more flowy option in a sage green color instead, which sported the same long sleeves and square neckline but a slightly more flowy fit.

It was perfect, I figured—exactly the sort of armor I would need to get through tonight.

…

A few hours later, I found myself smoothing my hands over the soft material of the dress as Noah’s car idled in front of the restaurant where we were to meet Drake and Zoe. I could feel Noah’s eyes boring into me from the driver’s seat, heavy and inscrutable.

I couldn’t quite meet his stare. Instead, I surreptitiously tugged the fabric a bit lower over my abdomen, anxiety gnawing at me in spite of Viona’s reassurances.

When Noah didn’t move to open my door for me, I simply sighed and let myself out, my purse clutched protectively over my midsection as I made my way toward the imposing front entrance of the restaurant. Noah followed a few paces behind, his footsteps clipped and tense.

Inside, Drake was already waiting for us, looking handsome but not too formal in a crisp blazer and slacks. His face lit up when he caught sight of me, although his smile dimmed slightly as Noah materialized at my side.

“Hannah, you look beautiful, as always,” Drake purred, taking my hand to brush a kiss across my knuckles. Beside me, I could feel Noah tense up, but I ignored him.

Suddenly, the sound of heels clicking made us all turn, and there was Zoe—beautiful as always in a satin black shift dress, dark pantihose, and tall boots. She looked like something out of a fashion magazine with her leather jacket draped over her shoulders and her hair perfectly curled down her back. She had emphasized her eyes with dark winged eyeliner and sultry eyeshadow, and…

She was everything I could never be.

I quickly averted my gaze, my heart already pounding. Home was already calling to me.

Home, and diet pills. It was a good thing I had flushed them, at least.

“Darling Zoe,” Drake murmured, his arm extending as he took a step toward her. “It’s so good to see—”

Zoe sidestepped his gesture, her red lips pressed into a thin, unamused line. Turning her back on Drake entirely, she faced Noah and me instead, that familiar fire dancing in her eyes.

“Well. Shall we, then?”

Over Zoe’s shoulder, I noticed Drake deflate, his outstretched hand hanging awkwardly in the air. Oh yes, this was going to be worse than I could have ever imagined.

As the four of us were led to our private table, I exchanged a loaded glance with Noah. It seemed, despite our differences, that we would agree on at least one thing.

Tonight was going to be a long night.