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“Oooh!” Hans cuts in. “I don’t like drama. I’m out of here.” He grabs his empty drink and disappears into the crowd.
Wade tightens his grip around me. “Is your rotten attitude because of all the dieting you’re doing?” he asks. “Relax a little. Eat. Have fun. Roxy is full of life, full of femininity. If you ask me, we don’t see enough diverse body types on those runways and magazine covers. To me, this is what sexy and beautiful looks like,” he adds, fixing his eyes on me. I’m surprised I’m even still standing at this point and not a puddle of mush on the floor.
Emily lets out a high-pitched squeal then struts away. Andrea heaves out a long sigh. “I’m sorry about her, Roxy.”
“I don’t even know what you’re doing with that girl,” Wade growls, strengthening his grip around my waist. “She’s bad news, and you’re a decent guy.”
Andrea shakes his head. “I know. I suck at finding good partners. You got lucky,” he says, giving me a small smile. “Well, I’d better go after her before she goes mental.”
Andrea’s words do nothing to ease the tickling in my stomach. I would, indeed, be lucky to be with Wade.
Once we’re alone, I turn to face him. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know.” His smile warms my already-scorching body. “But I’ve wanted to put her in her place for a long time. No one talks to my girlfriend that way.”
I bite my bottom lip. “Well, thanks for defending my honour.” I try to keep my tone light, but it comes out as heavy as a tonne of bricks.
His gaze drops to my lips, then back to my eyes, and I suspect he’s going to kiss me. I want him to. The urgent desire kick-starts a raging battle in my body.
He pulls his gaze from mine and clears his throat, circling the rim of his glass with his finger. My body cools instantly, reminding me there shouldn’t even be a battle to begin with. Wade was never going to kiss me. He was just sticking up for his girlfriend, that’s all.
Uma comes back to the table with two champagne flutes, and I paste a bright smile on my face, pretending nothing happened. Acting like everything is perfectly fine, and my heart isn’t hammering so hard in my chest, I could go into cardiac arrest at any moment. She glances between Wade, me, and the empty space around the table. “What did I miss?”
19
Love Yourself
Roxy
“That dress was a bad idea. She’s so fat.”
“Wade Hunter is going out with that?”
“We’ve come a long way from the models he usually dates.”
“He can do so much better.”
“Do you think she’s heavier than him?”
Tears blind my vision, and I close my eyes as I shut my laptop.
Why did I keep scrolling down?
Why did I look at the comments? I’ve been so good at ignoring them ever since I started being photographed with Wade. But I wanted to see myself in that dress again. Before I read the comments, I was actually pleased with the look. A little more daring and form-fitting than my usual outfits, but it was a launch party, not drinks at Malone’s. The people from Ivory were delighted, and I got so many compliments that I actually believed them. But that was last night. In the light of day, everything’s different.
This is just too much. My feelings for Wade are mingling with a sense of self-loathing. I don’t even know what’s real anymore. Nothing is real, Roxy. Except what those people are saying—he can do so much better. Wade isn’t into you. You are not dating, and you need to stop giving into the fantasy.
For the past two days, I’ve been going to the gym before and after work, continuing my strict diet, and ignoring Wade’s calls. I know I’ll have to talk to him soon. Our contract says we have to be seen in public at least once a week. But not before I lose a tad more weight. Clearly, the pounds I lost before the party weren’t enough.
Today, I’m back at the gym, my T-shirt sticking to my skin like it’s slathered in maple syrup. I’ve been at it for an hour, and I already feel lighter. Exhausted, but lighter.
I keep my pace on the treadmill, fuelled by the comments I saw on social media. With each step, I’m shutting those naysayers down. Showing them I’m not just some fat girl Wade took pity on. Proving that I’m worthy of him.
My breathing accelerates by the minute, and my heart threatens to explode in my chest. Heat floods my body and constricts my brain, making me heady.
The TV on the wall in front of me distorts, the image blurring as I stagger and fall off the treadmill. A loud gasp blends with the pop music blaring through the gym, and then, everything goes dark.
When I open my eyes, I’m lying in some kind of bed. A hospital bed, by the looks of it. Great. Memories flash before my eyes, the paramedics talking to me and loading me into the ambulance beneath the shocked stares of the other gym members.
