Page 63 of The Temptation of Truth
“I’ll get dressed.”
“I’ll pee.”
I laugh again, then let myself out of the bathroom. My smile makes my cheeks hurt, and my emotions have shifted so drastically that I can almost forget about my complete meltdown from moments earlier.
I grab a dress from my suitcase, then pause and look back at my selection of clothes. They’re all neatly folded in piles, mostly dresses and cardigans, but my eyes settle on the few new items I bought when I went exploring in Melbourne. It’s nothing crazy, but there isn’t a single cotton dress in the stack, and a couple of the pieces are a bit out of my comfort zone. Things I’d admire in magazines or on other women but would never buy for myself. Things Brady would call weird or ugly.
I frown and consider the clothing for a few more seconds, then exchange the dress for a new pair of wide-leg jeans and a cute little mosaic crocheted top. I bought them to wear, after all, and Brady’s not here to tell me to change.
I’m tugging the top down my torso when the bathroom door opens, and I turn to find Mabel grinning at me.
“I was wondering if you owned anything besides dresses.”
I shift my weight between my feet. “I got these in Melbourne.”
“I love them.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. The whole outfit is adorable, and those jeans hug your hips perfectly. You look amazing.”
My cheeks heat and I smooth my hands down the fabric of my jeans. “Thanks. I like them, too.”
“I’ll change fast, and then we can go.”
When she disappears back into the bathroom, I turn to look at my reflection in the wall mirror. I run my eyes over my body, then settle on the flare of my hips. Mabel was right. These jeans fit perfectly, and this top is adorable. It’s white with little red and pink strawberries on it, and it sits just above the waistband of my jeans, showing a peek of my stomach. I turn from side to side, assessing myself from each angle, and as I do, my smile grows.
Idolook great. I love this outfit. I don’t care that Brady would say it was ugly, or that the hint of skin that shows between my jeans and top is inappropriate. I like it, and that’s all that matters.
Then, as if my husband could feel my good mood, my phone buzzes with a text that threatens to torpedo everything.
Brady
I emailed you the stuff from the nutritionist. Daily exercises to implement and a list of good and bad foods to look over. There’s a digital food and exercise journal you should start filling out too. Don’t worry, Auri. I know you’ll fix this. You just have to try harder.
Brady
Oh, and what is this charge for a Melbourne boutique on the credit card? Making money doesn’t mean you don’t have to run things by me first. We’re still a partnership.
I frown at my phone screen. I don’t even know what to say to him. When I don’t respond right away, he sends me another text. This one is just three question marks, and it makes me even angrier. I feel my eyes start to sting again, and my jaw aches from how hard I’m gritting my teeth. Then my phone rings, and his contact photo fills the screen. I stare at it, but I make no move to answer.
“You good?”
My head jerks toward Mabel. She’s in another of her stage-ready ensembles, with a full face of makeup. I deflect.
“You look like a rock star.”
“Well, if the platform combat boot fits...”
She winks, drawing a genuine laugh from me. I type out a quickOkay, will talk laterto Brady, then shove the phone in my pocket.
“Family breakfast?” I ask brightly.
She nods. “Let’s go before the Caveat boys eat all the pastries.”
14
MABEL
