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I clear my throat. “I’m not, actually.”
“Not what?”
“Not used to having a man watch me.”
His brows come together in confusion. “That’s not possible. You must not have been paying attention.”
Oh, boy. I could just let him keep thinking this is me. It’s been a heady week, letting him know me as I am now, but hiding who I really am, especially such a big part of myself—no pun intended—is dishonest at best. Can’t expect the best outcome if I don’t give my all, or so say the motivational posters on the wall at the gym.
“Ugh. Okay, look.” I fold my hands on the table and sit up straight. “I didn’t always look like this.”
“What do you mean?” he asks, cautious and curious.
“I mean, what you see here,” I say, gesturing to indicate the great shoes and the stockings and the dress and the way all of it is a size small enough that I’m still getting used to the tags. “All this. Until a few months ago, I didn’t look like this.”
His chin scrunches up, his confusion deepening. I’d laugh, except I feel like I’m turning myself inside out in public. God, is this what coming out feels like? Because I have a whole new empathy for anybody who has to go through that.
“I’m not explaining this well.” I take a deep breath, let it out slowly, and look him square in the eye. “I used to be much bigger. I lost a lot of weight this last year or so.”
His confusion clears, his eyes softening.
“That’s great, Natalie,” he says gently, then stops. “Wait. Is it great? You weren’t sick, or something, were you? You mean you lost weight on purpose.”
That surprises a laugh out of me. “I didn’t think about that. No, I definitely lost the weight on purpose and not because of an illness.”
Finn reaches a hand out across the table and lays it atop mine. Our fingers twist, locking together.
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“It was—It was maybe the hardest thing I’ve ever done. My ex-boyfriend broke up with me because of it.”
“Because of your weight? What an asshole.”
My smile is huge. “I agree. But it made me take a hard look at my life, about what I was choosing for myself. I didn’t like what I saw, so I started making new choices.” I shrug. “And after some time, those choices started to make a difference.”
Finn looks at me for a long moment, his fingers brushing gently against mine.
“I’m telling you this,” I say quietly, the words for his ears only, “because when you take me back to my apartment in a little while, I’m going to invite you in.”
Heat kindles in his eyes.
“And if you say yes, if you come into my home, you’ll see the photos hanging up. And I don’t want those pictures to come as a surprise.”
Of course, Jeff had never once stopped to look at the photos on my wall. Maybe guys don’t do that kind of thing, and I could have saved myself the humiliation of exposing myself like this. Too late now, Nat.
Finn watches me, and I get the sense he’s considering his words.
“Do people treat you differently now, compared to…”
“When I was fat? Yes.”
I brace myself for the next question. It’s not a nice subject. People are a lot nicer to me now, and while that part is nice, on the whole, knowing that’s the reality we live in… that part freaking sucks.
“Hang on,” he says instead. “You said you and the asshole broke up about a year ago. That’s around the same time you came to work for Nic. You went to work with him before you… made all these changes.”
I nod.
“So what about Nic? Does he treat you differently now?”
