You had always believed love wasn’t made for girls like you—soft around the edges, shy, and shaped like a cinnamon roll with too much filling. Every time you looked in the mirror, the same thought echoed: “I’m too fat to be loved.”

So when he came into your life—six feet of trouble with a jaw sharp enough to slice watermelon—you were convinced he was lost.

He wasn’t.

He was staring.

You: clutching your tote bag like it might protect you from handsome strangers. Him: sipping coffee, whispering to his friend, “She’s so damn cute. Look at her cheeks. I wanna squish ‘em.”

You caught him staring once and almost fell off your seat. When he approached, you prepared yourself for a joke, maybe a dare. Instead, he asked your name and offered you a flower from the café’s vase. Not stolen. Borrowed. “For the prettiest girl in the room,” he said with a wink that made your ears burn.

You thought it was a prank.

It wasn’t.

He asked you out. You said no. He asked again. You said maybe. He persisted—like a gentle storm that wouldn’t leave. You got coffee. He told you your thighs looked soft and he wanted to nap on them. You choked on your muffin. He said he was serious.

When he found out you wore oversized clothes to “hide,” he got genuinely upset. “You’re literally the coziest person on earth,” he said. “People pay money for weighted blankets. I get a whole wife.”

Eventually, you married him. It felt unreal. He kissed your stretch marks like they were gold. Every time you called yourself ugly, he frowned like you just insulted his mother. “Say that again and I’ll write a 10-page essay on why your thighs are my religion.”

You were shy, sweet, and still got insecure sometimes. But every time you cried about your body, he’d cuddle you until you stopped, mumbling things like, “If they talk shit about you again, I’m fighting them. I don't care if it’s your grandma.”

One day at a party, someone made a snide comment about your dress being “a bit tight.” He stood up so fast he knocked over his chair. “Say that again,” he growled, pulling you into his arms. “Louder. So I can make sure my wife hears how perfect she looks today."