Mended (Lucian & Lia #3)

I look down and cringe as I see Lucian’s modified boxer shorts. “My panties are too tight,” I say defensively. “It was either these or nothing at all.”

“And you picked the first option?” She shakes her head. “When in doubt, go commando. Never mind,” she waves away my protests, “we’ll get some new underwear next.”

“I’m not getting a bigger sized thong,” I warn her, just knowing where this is going. I can’t picture myself going through my pregnancy with a string in my crack. Isn’t this the one time in life that women should be able to consider their comfort first and foremost?

She looks slightly disappointed, but gamely says, “I’m sure we can find you something that will be way better than what you’re wearing. Those probably look amazing on Lucian, but…”

“He looks good in everything.” I give a sappy smile.

“I know, bitch, you don’t have to rub it in,” she jokes as I pull on the jeans.

“Ohhh, these are wonderful,” I moan in bliss. They are baggy in the waist but feel like a pair of well-worn pajamas. I turn in the mirror and look at my butt, noting with relief that it doesn’t look any bigger than it did. “Let’s just get more of these,” I suggest hopefully, only for her to shoot down that idea with a shake of her head.

“We will get a few more pairs, but you don’t want to look as if you wear the same thing everyday, do you?”

I can’t help but giggle at her question. “Did you never notice in the time we were living together that I didn’t have very many clothes? A few pair of jeans IS variety to me.”

“But you’re with one of the hottest guys in the state now. He also happens to be big shit around here. You might have occasion to socialize with him, so don’t you want to have something nice to wear? We won’t buy a lot since you’ll possibly go up a few more sizes before the baby is born, but let’s get enough for you to mix and match.”

“Okay,” I agree, knowing she has a point. Even when casually dressed, Lucian always looks impeccable. I don’t want to be the sloppy girlfriend only wearing jeans, even if they are nice ones.

Rose blows through the store like a professional personal shopper. I cover my ears when she hands the sales associate Lucian’s credit card. I feel so bad over the amount that I try to put things back. I know money is no object for him, and that one of his suits probably cost as much as everything I’ve picked out, but it’s his money. Even if we were married, I would still feel guilty about spending something I didn’t earn.

“Oh, take that look off your face,” Rose scolds as she gathers up some of my bags. “If you need to justify the cost, remember you’re carrying his baby. You didn’t put it in there by yourself. Think of this as dressing your stomach. He should pay for that, right?”

“Er…I guess,” I say, feeling slightly better at her reasoning. I mean, would I feel bad about letting him purchase clothes for the baby? Of course, not. Rose straightens her black pencil skirt and brushes at non-existent lint on her sleeveless cashmere top. She has a cardigan wrapped elegantly around her neck and the ever-present set of pearls lying against her throat. Even after hours of shopping, not a single hair has escaped her chiffon. I, on the other hand, spent half of my time in the dressing room trying to push the limp hair out of my face. “Hey, why don’t we pick out a new outfit for you now,” I suggest, thinking she should be getting something out of this trip.

Rose hands me Lucian’s credit card before looking uneasily around her. The whole thing seems strange since she had no trouble at all shopping for me. “Oh, I…don’t really need anything.”

“Ah, come on,” I wheedle, “this is purely for fun. Let’s get you something…different than you normally wear.”

I pick up a pair of black, leather pants and wiggle my brows. “Now if anyone could pull this look off it would be you.” I mean every word, too. Rose has a body and the confidence to make a sack look sexy. Instead of smiling, she looks slightly sick at my suggestion. Okay, so maybe she has something against leather. I move on and point to a green top, with a plunging neckline, accented in tiny rhinestones. “This color would really pop next to your red hair,” I say, holding it up for her to see.

She seems almost afraid as she stutters, “I just received my wardrobe for the upcoming season. I can’t purchase anything else. Everything is perfectly matched.”

This whole conversation is beginning to feel surreal. She looks almost afraid of the clothing that surrounds us. For a split second though, I see something that resembles longing in her eyes as she takes the top from my hand and places it back on the rack. “It would be beautiful on you,” I say softly, not wanting to upset her further. There are things I don’t understand about Rose and this is one of them. Sometimes she shuts down over the most innocent of topics. Buying clothes for herself, it appears, is a trigger for her. For all of my whining in the dressing room, I wasn’t afraid of trying something new. I was just overwhelmed because shopping for the sake of it has never been something I’ve had the resources to do. Growing up, I was generally outfitted from thrift stores. I learned that you can wear a pair of jeans every day without drawing too much attention. That is why I tend to gravitate toward them even now. Never buy anything for daily wear that will stand out.

Almost as if the whole incident had never happened, Rose smiles brightly, saying, “Let’s go grab a coffee. My treat.”