Suddenly, the dress I’d been so comfortable in restricted my chest, made it difficult to breathe. I struggled out of it, twisting and turning to get the clingy fabric off my body, over my thick hips and jiggly ass and my oversized, ugly breasts.

I flung it to the floor and then I was left with only me, my reflection, and a thousand thoughts I’d worked so hard over the years to silence.

Too fat.

Too loud.

Too unworthy.

Too chunky with my cellulite and stretch marks.

Too stupid.

Too ugly.

That was probably why Lincoln fucked women on the side. He might have wanted me, but now I knew he played me. He found a woman he could marry who would probably help his family look even better. Hell, it was highly probable at this point he was only with me for my inheritance.

I’d seen some of the sexts he’d received. The way those women looked. He could probably bend them in all manner of positions he’d never want to see me in.

“Fuck,” I chanted on repeat. I pressed my hands to my face, found my cheeks and face still wet from water and tears and grabbed a towel.

“Get control of yourself. You’re not that. You’re not.”

Perhaps I was. Perhaps denying the truth hadn’t brought me many favors. I flung the hand towel to the counter and went to my room. Enough with the stupid pep talks and self-examination. Digging through the pile of clothes Kane bought, I heaved them all off the bed. Too tight. Too fitted. He’d seen and heard enough of my ugly past. He didn’t need to be forced to see the body that went with it too.

In the closet where I’d hung the clothes Heather bought me, I tugged on an oversized T-shirt and grabbed a pair of pajama pants.

A hair tie sat on the dresser, and I pulled my hair up and off my neck.

I’d go downstairs.

Say good night and tell Kane there was no way I’d force someone as perfect as him to marry a mess like me.

I’d figure it out on my own.

And tomorrow, when I woke… I’d start doing it.

Find a job.

A new place to live.

I’d get my money out of our account, call an attorney and reach out to the executor of my grandparents’ trust to see if anything could be done, and then I’d move on.

I’d move on alone.

After all, I was used to it.

I had no idea how much time passed while I was in my room, but once I was settled, my decision to start getting my shit together tomorrow worked out in my head, and I knew I wouldn’t start crying at the drop of a hat again, I returned to the kitchen.

Kane was sitting at the bar, head bent to his phone and what must have been a fresh beer next to him.

As soon as I entered, he set down his phone and lifted his head.