Page 90 of Insidious

I don’t move, but I don’t stop him either.

“Yeah.”

His fingers come to the knot just above my breast.

He just loosens it slowly and lets the towel slacken.

I can’t breathe. I screw my eyes shut.

I want to grab it back. Cover up. Run away because I know what he’ll see.

He will see the softness. All the ugly marks. All the reasons I don’t like to look at myself in the mirror anymore.

He doesn’t say a word, but I can feel his eyes move over me, categorising the changes.

It’s too much.

“I can’t—” I start, trying to fold the towel back over my body. But he steps in behind me before I can move away, holding it open.

I feel him warm and solid behind me, the towel still loose between us.

I can feel him against my back, his hard-on pressing into my spine.

“Look at us,” he says softly.

“No.”

“Luna.”

“I said no.”

“Please.”

Something in his voice makes me glance up reluctantly.

The mirror catches us both.

My hand moves automatically, brushing over my stomach.

“I hate this,” I mutter.

Then, faster, almost joking—

“And these. And this. I feel like a cow. And—God, my arms …”

I laugh, but none of it feels funny. Isaac is not laughing.

He’s watching my face.

“Can I tell you what I see?” he asks.

I mumble something.

“I see the most beautiful woman in the world,” he whispers in my ear.

I huff out a breath. “I’m not—”

“To me,” he says, “you are … I love your body.”