Page 104 of The Marriage Narrative
Zinnia complied. She was in a hotel room, wearing an impossibly soft robe while getting her hair and makeup done at the same time.
Blue complained about her braids: “You really should let us take these out.”
Red gave her backhanded compliments about her skin: “You have such good texture and teeny tiny pores, but your coloring, yikes. It’s so uneven and hard to match.”
When she pointed out that her drugstore makeup worked, White said it wasn’t “red-carpet quality.”
She forced herself to be a good sport about the entire experience. Live through it once to speak up with authority in the future.
Besides, the camera pods had returned. Being terrible to her was likely included in their appearance agreement, with a promise to edit out all of their wrongdoing.
So, she cleared her mind, dulled her edges, and let everything roll off her back. Thinking about Jordan was more than enough to keep her distracted.
Her favorite memory to relive lately was when she’d officiallymoved into his apartment. He’d unlocked the door, opened it a crack, but then stopped and said, “I need your help with something.”
She’d perked up. “What?”
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to do. A do-over to be specific. I missed my first chance because of delusional circumstances.” He’d leaned against the wall with a forlorn look on his face. “This isn’t exactly how I pictured it going down, but it technically is the first time with an official heading and you’re perfect obviously.”
She was absolutelysickof him and never wanted a cure. “What is it?”
“Do you trust me?” When she’d nodded, he added, “Close your eyes.”
She’d felt him standing next to her and automatically leaned closer because she had very little self-control left. “Jordan, what—ohmygod!”
He’d laughed as her eyes flew open because he’d swept her off her feet and into his arms.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m carrying my wife across the threshold,” he’d said with a huge heart-stopping grin. “This is your first nightlivinghere. This isourapartment now.”
Her beauty team began clapping and cheering, knocking her clean out of the memory.
“Okay, Miss Zinnia, it’s time for the dress!” White ordered.
She should’ve known what was about to happen the second she saw the camera pods turn toward the wall.
Robe? Gone. Underwear? Off and replaced with a skin-tone thong. Bra? They gave her adhesive petals.
“You have great tits, wow!” Blue commented. “I think it’s safe to skip the support tape.”
Zinnia stared at the ceiling. She was being a good sport. She felt fine.
Everything was fine.
All things considered, including the hotel room’s thermostat being set to arctic tundra, her team was quite gentle while sticking the petals on. She held still while they sprayed a pleasant enough perfume in strategic spots, followed their clipped instructions for wriggling into her dress, and leaned on Red as Blue kneeled in front of her, holding her shoes steady.
She couldn’t bend over. Squatting was possible if someone helped her back up.
“Time for the reveal!” White exclaimed and clapped some more.
The camera pods swiveled back around, getting Zinnia expertly into frame to capture the moment her team led her to the standing mirror. They’d lied about the boning. It dug into her rib cage every time she exhaled.
Who the hell is that?
Zinnia stared open-mouthed at her reflection because they’d made her so beautiful she didn’t recognize herself. “I look like a different person.” She breathed through her shock. “You shape-shifted me into a whole-ass different person.”
Different species was more like it. She resembled a mermaid—the green fabric hung like a custom tail specifically made to billow in the water and only the hip-high slit gave her leggy secret away.
