Semua Bab FORBIDDEN: HIS PLUS SIZE OBSESSION : Bab 11 - Bab 20

"Mitch..." I pleaded. He pointed at me again, eyes blazing. “It’s yours, Lena. All yours. If you had kept yourself up, stayed sexy for me, made an actual effort instead of just complaining and starving for a few days then giving up… none of this would be happening. I wouldn’t have to sneak around with girls who actually make me feel like a man. we've been together for five years! Five years...no child....all you do was blow up like a pufferfish.” I couldn’t breathe. The sobs turned violent, shaking my whole body. I rocked back and forth on the floor, whispering through the tears: “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… I’ll try harder… please… don’t do this to me… I love you… please…” Mitch just sighed, like my breakdown was exhausting him. “Stop crying like that. It doesn’t help. If you really love me, then prove it. Fix yourself. Because I’m not going to keep living like this — coming home to a wife I can’t even desire while I have to get my satisfaction somewhere else. The choice i

The first man leaned back, his eyes narrowing as he looked me over again. I noticed his gaze lingered on my stomach. “Damn,” he said with a cruel laugh. “No wonder you’re so uptight. Look at the size of you. How much do you weigh, anyway? Two-fifty? Three hundred? Bet that’s why your husband always cheats on you—that's if you even have one.” That hit me right in the heart where it hurts. How could he tell? The others snickered, emboldened. “Yeah, she’s a big one,” another added, gesturing at my thighs. “All that fat jiggling around. No man wants to climb on top of that mountain every night. You probably crush the poor guy.” “She thought she was something,” the third one chimed in, grinning. “You decline our compliments and act all high and mighty, but let’s be real—with a body like that, you should be grateful anyone’s even looking in your direction. Most men would run the other way.” The table erupted again, louder this time, their voices carrying across the bar. My cheeks b

I forced a weak smile and nodded at Clara.“It’s fine,” I whispered, my voice barely holding together. “Really, you don't have to apologize. I’m very okay.”But I wasn’t, not even close.I stood up on shaky legs, smoothed down my uniform with trembling hands, and walked toward the bathroom as steadily as I could manage.Every step felt like I was dragging my entire body through thick mud.The eyes of the other waitresses followed me; I could feel their pitying stares burning into my back.Soft murmurs rose behind me like a swarm of bees.“Poor Lena…”“She didn’t deserve that.”“Still… slapping a customer? That's a risk. The manager’s not wrong about the drama.”“She’s always so strong, but look at her now. I have never seen her look this sad.”"She's trying so hard to make us believe she is okay... This is just not fair."I pushed open the bathroom door and stepped inside, locking it behind me with a soft click that sounded far too loud in the small space.The moment I was alone, the

I needed to know for sure.My hands shook as I pulled out my own phone and walked out of the café to call my co-worker from the bar.I dialed Clara.She picked up on the second ring.“Clara?” My voice came out hoarse and shaky. “It’s Lena. I just got to the café… Everyone here is talking about four men who were found dead this morning. Dumped beside the bar. Is it… is it them? The ones from last night?”I whispered.There was a heavy pause at the other end. I could hear the chaos of the bar in the background—phones ringing, the manager shouting orders.“Yeah,” Clara whispered, her voice tight with fear.“It’s them, Lena. The exact four. The police have already been here asking questions. The pictures are horrible… their faces beaten beyond recognition, pants pulled down, dicks severed and laid on their chests like some kind of message. The whole staff is freaked out. Edith won’t stop crying. The manager is losing his shit. He keeps saying we need to be careful.”I leaned against the w

My heart skipped at that. I glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention to us. However, it was useless. There was just one customer in the café, and the girls were watching us as though we were in a school play. Then I turned back to him. "That's not your concern—what my husband gets me or not—and I won't tolerate your harassment anymore. Give me your order or I will leave and attend to more serious customers," I replied quickly, but the edge in my voice came out thinner than I intended. He took a small step closer and my pulse stumbled. What was he trying to do now?! "Please,take it. It's a harmless gift". My throat went dry. Why does he sound so calm? “I am sorry, I don’t take gifts from strangers,” I said instead, trying to pull the moment back under control. “Especially not ones who won’t even show their face.” "I can show you my face if you want". He said quietly almost in a whisper as if we are sharing a secret. If I don't do something, ther