CHAPTER 4

Marie Sue's POV

I drummed my fingers against my laps absentmindedly and didn't notice when Jordan parked the car until Lara announced.

“We're here.” She said with excitement.

Yay, I guess.

I stepped out of the car and rounded it to join Lara and Jordan.

My brows furrowed. Why were we standing in front of a fancy-looking boutique, instead of the Kensington mansion?

As if reading my mind, Lara replied. “We're here to get you a new dress.”

I blinked. “Me?”

“Yes,” she smiled cheerfully. “Now, come on. We don't want to keep the dresses waiting.”

Dresses? Plural?

Lara pulled me in before I could continue my train of thoughts.

When the glass doors slid open, I sucked in a breath. This boutique didn't look like somewhere you simply went in. It looked like a palace.

The attendants, dressed in pristine black uniforms, stepped to greet Lara. At that moment, it dawned on me. Lara and I come from completely different worlds. Hers was affluent with wealth and power. Mine was… you know how mine is.

I trailed in after Lara, suddenly very aware of my apron, my achy feet, and that my life somehow hadn’t already turned into a fever dream of a billionaire. I felt ridiculously out of place.

It wasn’t even the clothes yet. It was me. I was plus-sized and I knew it; I didn’t need a mirror or anyone’s eyes to constantly be reminded. But being here and feeling this so acutely made it worse, made me feel like my body was too big, too soft, too much for something this sharp and polished.

Jordan came in last. He always did. He looked both impossibly out of place and perfectly at home everywhere at once.

“This is unnecessary,” he muttered, adjusting the knot of his tie.

Lara merely waved him away like she was trying to shoot a fly. “Jordan, that’s just what you say about anything that brings any pleasure.”

“This brings expense,” he countered dryly.

“And pleasure,” she said simply.

A stylist entered, her red lips curled with a smile. “Mrs. Kensington, so glad you're here. We've gathered the collection for you as requested.”

As requested? When did she make that order? She probably did when I wasn't looking.

Lara smiled. “Perfect. Let's get started.”

They wheeled out dress after dress. I'd never seen so much extravagance on a fabric before. Dresses made of silk, satin, and crystals. They seemed like the type that belonged behind glass in a museum, not on a human body.

I tried on the first dress given to me. It was too tight. The second one was too bright. But the third...

I saw myself in the mirror, and then I looked away instantly.

My body filled the dress in a way that felt like I was taking up too much space even while standing still.

“Maybe something a little less... Noticeable,” I mumbled.

The stylist hesitated. “Oh Miss, it really suits you. It's just that you just have a very…”

“Large frame?” I finished for her with a small, shaky laugh. “Yeah. I know.”

“Stop.” Jordan's voice cut through the room.

I looked up and blinked at him. For a moment I thought he was watching the dress. Then when his eyes met mine in the mirror, I realized he was watching me.

“Turn around.” He said, not taking his eyes off my reflection.

I frowned. “Why?”

“Just do it.”

Slowly, I turned.

He watched me for a moment too long, his eyes flicking over me as if considering something he didn’t want to admit. Then he said flatly, “You’re not ugly.”

I blinked. “I didn't say that.”

“You were thinking about it,” he said immediately.

I opened my mouth to protest, but he continued regardless. “Don't shrink yourself down to fit clothes. Clothes are supposed to fit you.”

I didn’t know what to say. I just stood there. Did he just say that?

Lara clapped her hands together once, as if a decision had already been made. “We'll take it.”

“I didn't agree,” Jordan growled.

“No one asked you,” she replied with a soft smile.

When I finally walked out in the last dress, I almost didn't recognize myself. The fabric moved with me. It didn’t cling to my body like the rest of my clothes did. It just fits. For the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t worrying about what people would notice about me first, I wasn’t trying to fade into my own skin.

Jordan looked up, paused, then his face settled into an impassive mask.

“Let's go.” he said quickly, already turning away.

Lara’s gaze narrowed at him. “Really? Jordan?”

“I have a meeting.”

“At this hour?”

“Yes.”

“You always have a meeting when you're running from something,” she rolled her eyes.

“I don't run from anything.” Jordan scoffed.

Lara hummed, as if she wasn't entirely convinced. “The car is here.”

We were out of the boutique not long after.

I slid into the backseat of the car right after Lara, clutching the feeling of the dress to me as if it would disappear if I let go. Jordan, standing outside, closed the door with a click that didn't require any effort on his part. His gaze met mine before he patted the hood of the car and it began to move.

New York streaked past in a blur of lights and skyscrapers that seemed to scratch at the sky. From inside that car, everything outside felt distant, as though I was watching someone else's life from a safe distance.

The people on the street looked small, the buildings minuscule, the entire world insignificantly small compared to the car I was sitting in and the life I had somehow landed in.

The scenery gradually transitioned from crowded city streets to wider spaces with less traffic. The silence seemed to grow louder, the air thinner. Then the gates appeared, parting silently to let us through.