Page 9 of Always Meant for You
This is the only version of me I’ve ever let grow.
Bella Mae is my alter ego. She refuses to flinch at whispers trailing behind her. She speaks her mind without apology. She moves through the world with sophistication and purpose. She knows her worth without needing permission. She never makes herself smaller to fit anyone’s expectations. Her style is vintage French couture, and she wears heels that were never meant for dusty porch steps.
She’s not pretend. She’s just waiting.
And no one here knows about her.
Not Jamie.
Not my father.
I set the binder aside and stand. I glance between the pink heels on my feet and the corkboard above my bed. An idea flickers.
I climb onto the bed, still wearing my shoes. I lower onto my back, bend my knees, and lift my legs until my shoes line up with the corkboard.
Shoes forward, dreams ahead.
That’s what I would title this if I were posting on social media as Bella Mae.
I grab my phone from my purse and lift it, framing the shot. The photo feels unfinished, missing a piece I cannot ignore. I reach back into my bag and pull out my passport. The cover presses against my palm, its surface stiff and smooth. No stamps mark its pages.
Not yet.
I hold it in my other hand and slide it into the frame beside my shoes.
This is the picture. This is who I want to be.
I take the photo.
Not bad. I could add a filter. Or make it black and white—give it that editorial feel.
I shift for a second shot, angling my legs so the heels catch more of the light. My dress rides up, bunched at my waist now. My bare legs stretch toward the corkboard, toward everything I’ve dared to want and never had.
My thumb hovers over the button to snap another shot.
I take it.
This picture is different.
My legs in the air, my heels sharp and unapologetic.
This shot exudes confidence.
My first thought hits like a punch to the gut.
I want to show Jamie.
And I can’t.
I’ll never hear his voice again. I’ll never see him walk through that front door and shift the whole room just by being in it.
I’m alone and stuck.
Tears roll down my cheeks. I barely get the chance to brush them away before the door crashes open.
I gasp, half-naked on my bed with my legs in the air.
And then I hear it.
