Page 59 of The Art of Loving Ellie
Alex looks like he could work here in his solid black, three-piece Armani ensemble. The cuffs on the dress shirt under his sport coat are encrusted with tiny black rhinestones that catch the light when he moves. “You ready to shop, Sugar?”
I walk over and swat his arm lightly. “Did you reserve this place just for us?” My head swivels as I look around the boutique. We both know this is a dream come true for me.
“Just trying to treat my girl to what she deserves.” I smile at him and turn to meet our beautiful personal stylist. HANNAH is printed boldly on her name tag, and her soft green eyes compliment her swept up dirty blonde hair.
“Hi, Ellie. It’s so nice to meet you.” She reaches out to shake my hand lightly and her pretty, pink lips form a smile.
She walks us back through the showroom and into our own little cozy corner. There are mirrors everywhere, and looking at my yoga tights, slouchy sweater, and oversized coat, I feel especially underdressed to be in such a fancy venue.
As if he can see the thoughts running through my mind, Alex meets my eyes in one of the mirrors and leans over to whisper, “Time to ditch the trailer park, honey.” He gives me a playful wink, and I set my shoulders back, grinning back at him. He’s right, it’s time to let go of my insecurities, and embrace the uncomfortable.
“So, what are we thinking, you two?” Hannah says as she walks around my figure, pulling my coat from my thin frame. They both place a finger to their mouths looking at me thoughtfully.
“Maybe something red?” I ask, and they nod their heads in agreeance.
“It will be Christmas Eve after all.” Alex shrugs. Hannah leaves for a few moments to grab some dresses as I strip down, and when she returns, she has several gowns for me to try in various lengths and materials.
“Try this,” she says, handing me a short little cocktail dress that’s covered in red sparkles. I wince when I see the price tag boasting one thousand dollars.
Putting the dress on, I step up on the platform in the middle of the room and face the mirrors. “Well?”
Alexandre stares at me for a moment before barking out a loud laugh. I whirl around on him. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, Sugar. It’s just that in that dress—well, you look like one of Santa’s three Ho’s.” Hannah lets out a snort of laughter which she attempts to hide behind her hand, and I roll my eyes at both of them.
Next, I try on an all red tulle gown with tons of ruching and feathers. I slant my eyes, shaking my head disapprovingly. “I look like Cardi B at the 2019 Met Gala.” Our giggles fill the room, and it takes a concerted effort from all three of us to remove me from the monstrosity.
An hour of red dresses later, and still, nothing is standing out. I’m beginning to feel a little discouraged when Alex stands up suddenly, snapping his fingers. “I have an idea.”
He leaves the room for a moment, and comes back holding three varying green gowns. “Maybe we just have the wrong color!” He pushes the dresses into my arms eagerly, and I change into the one lying on top.
It’s a long silk number with a completely exposed back. There’s a delicate gold chain that runs across the top of my shoulders, creating a cross down the center of my bare skin, before attaching to the bottom of the cut out right over the small of my back.
The long sleeves will certainly keep me warm, and my auburn hair compliments the emerald green nicely. It’s reminiscent of ivy, and I blush a little at my reflection.
“Oh, Ellie,” Alex gasps when I step up to the mirror, “you look stunning!” He does a little clap, and his excitement makes me smile.
For the first time in weeks, I stare at my reflection for longer than just a few seconds. I meet my deep, ocean blue eyes in the mirror and feel everything around me begin to melt away. My mind whispers,who are you?
That’s been the question I’ve been asking all along, isn’t it?
Elizabeth Clark: The anxious girl who never takes chances. A young woman too afraid of her past to come into a future of her own. A product of neglect, abuse, and a vision of crippling fear.
My gaze drops to the light bruising under my eyes from stress and sleepless nights, and I desperately search my face for the answer. My mind drifts back to when I first started working for Alexandre, and how nervous I was to meet him. I stuttered constantly, and I lacked the confidence that my aunt boasted to him that I possessed. Even through relying on him to cater to my insecurities, and giving me a completely different position than the one I was intended for, he has still stood loyally by my side.
I’ve relied on my aunt for most of my life to rescue me, and give me opportunities that most people would never have access to. I’m constantly begging her to bail me out when things get too hard for me to handle, and try as I might, I still don’t know how I’ll ever repay her for those kindnesses.
She tried to tell me when I visited her back in November that the woman she saw wasn’t a failure. She saw a younger version of herself in me—strong, independent, and resilient. I felt at the time that I had listened to her and saw the waves of change coming to my rescue, but I realize now that nothing could have possibly changed for me then because I didn’t actuallyhearwhat she said.
I still continued to take my anger out on my father, and let my parents' relationship scare me from a commitment to one of my own. The neglect I had suffered at the hands of both of my parents has fueled my adult life for so long, it became a crutch I felt I needed to lean on to push me to keep going. Only through my father’s death have I seen the truth in my naivety and the desperate need in my heart to close that chapter of my life, and move forward, peacefully.
I smooth my hands down the front of this gorgeous silk dress, and I think of the man that I know in my heart I have fallen in love with. A man, who despite my every flaw, has given me chance after chance to prove my worth—not to him, but myself.
Tyler has silently and unknowingly given this quiet mouse, a strong and loud voice. He’s taught me how to love myself through my anxiety and shown me what it’s like to have a partner and friend to enter the battlefield, sword in hand, ready to fight the demons that plague me daily—together.
My heart flutters wildly remembering his parting words to me the night I mistakenly told him I didn’t want to see him anymore.
“I love you, Ellie.”
