not.”
“I’ll buy another one.”
“We’ll buy another one,” he corrected.
I looked down at our sleeping daughter.
Simon followed my gaze.
Then he said quietly,
“I should’ve stopped this years ago.”
I didn’t answer.
Two days later, Simon came shopping with me.
I found a dress made from soft fabric with a waistline that actually sat where my waist existed now.
I could sit comfortably.
I could breathe.
I could lift my arms without worrying that the seams were going to declare war on me.
When I stepped out
