I came to a stop at the end of the row. The one nice dress my aunt Georgie had insisted on buying me. It was timeless, she’d said. Black with a fitted bodice that hugged my limited curves, making them look a bit more voluptuous than they actually were. It had long, gauzy bell-sleeves that fluttered when I moved. I could only imagine what they’d look like as I played. The skirt had two layers: a shorter, form-fitting slip, and that same chiffon overlay that allowed you to see the limbs beneath it.

I took a deep breath and pulled it from the closet. I searched for one of my few pairs of fancy underwear. It just seemed wrong to have cotton beneath this dress. I hummed to myself as I pulled everything on, not allowing myself to look until I was completely put together. Slipping my feet into my favorite pair of booties, I turned to face the mirror.

For the first time in years, I felt beautiful. And Brody had given me a reason to remember. That I was real. That my body existed. And even though I often tried to hide it away out of fear of prompting questions, it was still there. And it was beautiful. No matter what scars marred my skin.

My hand went to my belly. The worst of the scars there. I traced the raised flesh with my thumb, but instead of letting it remind me that I should be hiding, I let it remind me that I was breathing. And because of that fact, I had a duty to truly live.

I let my hand fall to my side, and with one final look, moved towards the hallway. The heels of my boots clacked against the wood as I walked.

“I thought I was going to have to come throw you over my shoulder,” Brody called from downstairs.

“You try and do that, and you’ll get a nasty surprise.” Brody had no idea that I’d studied martial arts for years after my attack. Once or twice a week, I found time to go through my moves, even if I didn’t have an opponent to spar with.

“I might just have to give it a try to—” His words cut off as I came around the corner. “Holy hell. Never mind. I think we should just stay here. You can give me my own personal concert and—”

I stole the rest of his words with a kiss. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry, I’m a little dazed. Might’ve taken a hit to the head. What are you thanking me for exactly?”

“Reminding me that I’m real. That I’m breathing. That I’m beautiful.”

Brody pulled me tighter against him, a fire dancing in the dark depths of his eyes that I’d never seen before. “You’re all of those things. And so much more.”