Vulnerability

~10~

Our dinner comes to an end as the waitress hands back the leather folder holding Victor's card.

Despite my insistence on paying for my own meal, Victor strikes every attempt down. He ultimately forces my hand once he goes on this full-length tangent as to why he should pay since he was the one that asked me out in the first place. All of that, as he stealthily shoved his credit card into the folder under the table and slipped it to the waitress.

The idea of having people do nice things for me is still an unsettling concept, especially when I don't see a reason as to why they should be nice to me in the first place. I don't want to seem like some freeloading gold digger, especially since I genuinely enjoy Victor's company. I don't need his money to make me feel that way.

Victor grabs the folder swiftly, signing the receipt, and then slipping the card away into his wallet.

While he does that, I start my dining-out ritual where my compelling need for order takes over. I start scooping all the leftover food onto one plate and assemble the other plates and stack them so it's easier for the waitress to grab. I'm no saint or anything of the sort, I just do it to give myself some peace of mind.

Once I'm done, I glance up to see Victor staring at me with wide eyes and a small smile, "I think people get paid to do that, Jules." The velvety assurance in his tone can make every thing he says seem like fact.

"I know, but it's just a weird thing I do. I can't imagine having to constantly clean up after people all day," I defend as if that was my original intention.

I'm such a fraud.

Victor simply nods and we both rise from the table, making our way over to the door.

Victor makes it to the door before I do so as I walk over to him I can see the smile still plastered onto his face. How can someone smile for so fucking long?

With the thought, he steps aside to open the door back and allow me to exit the private room first. We both start towards the main entrance of the hotel, walking side-by-side like an elementary school couple, too shy to hold each other's hands.

Soon, I can feel Victor's arm suddenly slither around my waist causing me to freeze internally. Another wave of insecurity hits me like a tidal wave.

The only thing holding my body together is this dress. I can only think about him being able to feel the excess fat around my hip and my not-so-perfect pudgy stomach. I keep walking, despite feeling the most intense form of butterflies configure in the pit of my stomach.

"You okay?" Victor asks, noticing my slight shiftiness.

I've never really experienced this much affection in my life. At all. The most significant form of affection I've ever had in life, coming from my father and that was a simple pat on the back when I aced my algebra exam. I guess you're not too aware of how much love you give your child when you're too occupied with performing surgery six days out of the week. I loved my father, but he wasn't around much.

When other people touch me I sort of stiffen. Touch is a very intense thing for me.

"Yeah." I quickly stifle out a little cough to remedy the coarseness in my voice. "I'm good," I reassure him, barely able to look him in the face as the simple action causes me to malfunction like a robot doused in water.

The endless negative thoughts about my body detach me from reality. The only thing I'm able to hear, being my own negativity. Those hips are gross and he can feel even inch of them. He is probably disgusted by you right now and is just being nice about it.