Page 89 of Insidious

“She might,” he agrees. “I’ll handle it. I am her dad.”

“Isaac—”

“I’ve got her, Luna.”

He seems to sense when I need a break. I don’t know how Isaac became so attuned to my moods, but he is.

But I don’t do yoga. I just sit on the mat and stare at the wall.

***

The bathroom door slides open before I can say anything. I have just gotten out of the shower. The mirror is fogged, but not enough, because I catch glimpses. My body feels … unfamiliar. It is soft in places that used to be firm.

I have a pooch that doesn’t flatten, no matter how I stand. There are faint lines along my skin that I don’t look at for too long. The flesh of my arms are loose. And my breasts seem enormous. They don’t feel like mine.

I used to walk around like this without thinking, completely naked and shameless.

Sometimes, just to distract him when he was gaming or watching rugby.

His eyes would immediately glaze over and go that deep, crazy blue.

I was comfortable in my skin. I felt beautiful.

Now—

I reach for the towel in a panic as the door opens.

Isaac steps in, saying something, then stops mid-sentence.

His eyes focus on me like he is seeing me for the first time.

He watches as I struggle to knot the towel. I’ve already slightly turned away.

“I need to dress,” I say quickly, not meeting his eyes.

Isaac doesn’t move. He doesn’t look away either. For a painful second, I feel … exposed. I hate my body.

I expect him to retreat and close the door, to free me from this embarrassment. Instead—

“Can I see?”

I blink.

“What?”

“I’d like to see you,” he says. “I’ve missed … looking at you.”

“I don’t …” I shake my head. “I feel—”

The words stutter to a stop.

“I feel fat,” I finally admit. “And … unattractive.”

I hate how small my voice sounds. I hate the burn behind my eyes even more. More tears!

I hear him cautiously take a step closer.

“Can I?” he asks again, reaching for the edge of the towel.