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Refusing Financial Dependence.

Author: Pr3shy V.
last update publish date: 2026-08-08 05:22:26

~ Ivy ~

I wiped a streak of dried black paint off my thumb with a wet napkin. The paper towel torn off the roll on my small kitchen counter was already gray and crumpled. My brushes sat in a tall glass jar filled with cloudy water, resting right beside my sketchbook.

Two quick knocks rattled the front door.

I set the napkin down and walked across the wooden floor. I unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the door open. Ethan stood on the porch holding two heavy brown paper grocery bags. He wore his b
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  • The Plus-Sized Bride No One Wanted: Too Fat to Love    The Unstoppable Horizon.

    ~ Ivy ~Noah’s boots slipped on the wet cypress planks.His small body pitched sideways toward the open railing of the temple overlook. His woolen mittens grabbed at empty air. My lungs seized. I lunged forward on heavy feet, my jade coat pulling tight across my five-month belly. Ethan’s arm flashed past my shoulder like lightning. His broad hand clamped onto Noah’s overalls. With one smooth, powerful heave, Ethan hauled our son into the air and tucked him securely against his chest."Got you, buddy," Ethan breathed, his deep voice rough. Noah let out a loud squeal of laughter, clapping his wet mittens against Ethan’s jaw. "Daddy flew! Fast Daddy!"Ethan pressed his face into Noah’s knit cap. His chest heaved against his dark wool coat, while his grip stayed solid as iron. He turned to me, his blue-gray eyes sharp with alarm. He reached out with his free hand and caught my forearm. "Ivy. Are your feet planted?""My feet are on the wood," I said, gasping for air as I pressed both hands

  • The Plus-Sized Bride No One Wanted: Too Fat to Love    The Ring By The Shore.

    ~ Julian ~A sudden surge of icy foam slammed into our shins. The Pacific tide swept up the gray sand with a heavy roar. Clara lost her footing on the slick pebbles. Her right boot slid out from under her, and her body pitched toward the rushing dark water.I lunged forward, drove my heels into the wet gravel, and locked both arms around her waist. The drag of the undertow pulled hard against my legs, soaking my denim jeans to the knees. I set my jaw, bent my knees, and hauled her back toward the dry bank with one solid pull. Clara landed hard against my chest, her hands clutching the thick wool of my brown jacket."Catch your breath," I said, holding her tight against the wind. "I have you."Clara tilted her head back and let out a bright, ringing laugh. Sea spray dusted her round cheeks. Her dark brown curls whipped across her forehead, sticking to the edge of her eyelashes. The cold wind pressed the wool flat against the wide curve of her hips and the softness of her waist. She sto

  • The Plus-Sized Bride No One Wanted: Too Fat to Love    Curves Of Clay and Silk.

    ~ Ivy ~Wet gray clay spun off the potter's wheel, smacking against the front of my canvas smock with a sharp, heavy slap. The spinning lump wobbled violently to the left. I threw my weight forward onto the wooden bench, planting my elbows firmly against my knees. I pressed the heels of both hands into the slick mud. The clay bit back, fighting against my palms, spraying cold water across my forearms and cheeks."Steady," I told myself aloud, digging my thumbs down into the exact center of the mound.The wheel whined beneath the foot pedal. My back burned with the strain. I leaned my full body into the motion, letting my curves do the heavy work. My hips held the seat firm. The clay yielded beneath the force of my grip, smoothing out into a wide, round basin that curved outward like the arc of a woman’s hips. I eased my thumbs up the side walls, shaping the thick belly of the vessel.My studio telephone let out a loud, high trill from the cedar table across the room. The laptop screen

  • The Plus-Sized Bride No One Wanted: Too Fat to Love    The Foundation Of Family.

    ~ Ethan ~A tea bowl slipped from my fingers, smashing against the cedar planks of the garden teahouse. Hot roasted green tea splashed across the polished wood, hissing as it ran toward the tatami mat. Two-year-old Noah leaped up from his cushion, his small sandals clattering on the veranda. He pointed a sticky finger at the dark puddle."Big splash, Daddy!" Noah cheered, dancing on the edge of the boards. "Look at the mess!""Stand right there, Noah," I said, catching his small arm with one hand to keep his bare feet away from the ceramic shards. I pulled a linen towel from my pocket and knelt on the timber floor, swiping the liquid off the wood. "Do not move until I sweep the pieces away.""Noah, come to Grandma," Margaret called from the low table, clapping her hands together. Her silver hair shone in the afternoon sun, her smile bright and welcoming. "Let your father clean the floor."Noah turned on his heels and bounded across the mats, throwing himself into Margaret’s open lap.

  • The Plus-Sized Bride No One Wanted: Too Fat to Love    Across Ten Thousand Miles.

    ~ Ivy ~The mail courier dropped a heavy parcel onto my cedar workbench with a hollow thump."Sign here, Mrs. Knight," he said, extending an electronic pad. I pressed the plastic pen to the glass screen. My hand shook, making the ink line wobble. Below the bold international customs stamp, two sender names stood in sharp black print: *Arthur and Victoria Monroe.* The address was a retirement village in central Florida."Thank you, Ma'am," the courier said, bowing politely before sliding the studio door shut.Silence rushed into the room. Outside the glass walls, the Katsura River flowed over dark, polished stones. Green hills rose into the pale morning mist. For three years, that ocean had kept the poison of my past ten thousand miles away. Now, a cardboard box sat inches from my fresh paint jars. A sharp cramp pinched low in my stomach. I caught the edge of the heavy pine table, sucking air through my teeth."Steady," I whispered to myself, pressing a flat hand over my belly. "You ar

  • The Plus-Sized Bride No One Wanted: Too Fat to Love    The Proof Of a Changed Man.

    ~ Julian ~A fifty-pound sack of whole wheat flour slipped from my grip. The rough burlap scratched my palms as the seam burst against the metal tailgate of the pickup truck. White powder exploded into the salty coastal air, coating my boots, my faded blue jeans, and the sleeves of my red flannel shirt."Julian! Grab the rope!" Clara called out. The ocean wind caught the white canvas awning of the market stall, ripping the corner peg straight out of the wet gravel. The metal pole swung toward Clara's head. I lunged forward, planted my boots into the mud, and caught the cold steel bar with both hands inches above her brow."Step back, Clara," I said, my teeth clenched against the strain in my shoulders. Clara moved quickly, her heavy leather boots crunching on the stone path. She did not panic. She reached into her tool bucket, pulled out a heavy rubber mallet, and drove the steel peg deep into the earth. "Hold it right there," she said, her breath fogging in the morning chill. "One mo

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