Page 32 of Ruined Vows

And yes, I said breakfastsalad.

I’ve sat through enough lectures from my mother about how antioxidants from greens are simplyrequiredfor glowing skin. Theoretically, I would have been justjuicingall week, but I decided a long time ago I’d only put myself through the bare minimum when it comes to showing up to these rituals for my mother. I was ED-adjacent all through high school because of that woman, and I’m not going back there just because she loves control and has never cared what it’s done to me.

As I sit back and allow a woman to pluck and tweeze the life out of every stray hair on my face before applying a light chemical peel, I remind myself—it’s just today and a couple more times before the wedding.

“You really should have come in at the beginning of the week,” the aesthetician says with a frown. “There’s a lot of sun build-up here, but I’m only going to be able to get the top layer off because you need to be make-up-ready tonight.”

“I’ll remember that for next time,” I mumble through the mask on my face.

I’m going to have to employ my breathing exercises because god knows Carol’s going to keep testing me. Especially with the fucking dress. She literally ordered a size smaller than I am and told me to get my body wedding-dress-ready to fit into it. She recommended Piloxes, the newest thing. It’s a mix of pilates and boxing, apparently.

I only barely kept myself from telling her to fuck off. I just have to play nice alittlelonger. Eight more weeks, and then I’m free.

Truly free. No more of these bullshit games.

“Just tell your mom we could only do so much. I know this is a really important day for her, and she wants you to look perfect.”

I barely stop myself from rolling my eyes. Instead, I smile and nod like the obedient little girl I am.Appearances, Kira Belle. I can all but hear Carol’s voice in my head.Always keep up appearances.

Of course. It’s an important day forCarol. Then again, she is the one paying these women. And she’s the regular, in here every four to six weeks for peels, Botox upkeep, lip filler, and god knows what else women are doing to their faces these days.

Just get through today.

“You know we could fix these little lines here.” The woman brings a mirror up and points at my forehead.

I frown at her.

“Exactly, these lines here and here.” She uses her gloved hand to point at small lines that have popped up above my eyebrow.

“That’s because I’m frowning at you. I’m making an expression. I’m only twenty-two. I don’t have wrinkles yet.”

She tilts her head at me sympathetically. “Those grooves will only get deeper as you age. Many of our clients are taking preventative measures. We can make you as smooth-faced as you were at sixteen and keep you that way. It’s just a couple quick injections.”

How about I take that injection needle and stab you in the eye? Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab.

I push the mirror away. “No thanks.”

“Are you sure? I noticed that your lips are on the thinner side, too. A lot of mothers and daughters are concerned about keeping the family resemblance similar. We could do some filler, and you’d only be a little sore for tonight’s dinner.”

Now I know that’s bullshit. I’ve heard from friends that lip filler hurts like a bitch.

“No thanks,” I say more firmly, fuming internally. I’m sure Carol put them up to this. Family resemblance, my ass.

I can barely sit still for them to finish applying the other million-and-a-half products they scrub, spray, and massage onto my skin.

Finally, it’s time to go.

They shove a cold green juice into my hand on the way out. “Per your mother’s request,” says a perky little blonde in the white uniform and cute little pink apron. “Have a pampered day!”

Isaak is on my heels as we exit. He waited in the hallway outside the small, curtained-off room where they do facials only because there were no windows inside. I obediently put the straw in my mouth and suck on the honeyed wheatgrass, which is just as disgusting as it sounds.

“Did that lady just wish you a happy diaper day?”

I snort and almost spray my green juice. “No, it’s a day of pampering. You know, getting your face and hair done. Doesn’t my face look different?”

I pause on the sidewalk and turn my face to him.

His nose scrunches. “I dunno. Kinda shiny, I guess.”

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