I turned to Shawn, hoping, praying, that he would defend me. But he didn’t spare me a single glance. Instead, he agreed with his mother.
"Ayra, you really did dress a bit inappropriately today. You should listen to what my mom is saying."
I couldn’t believe the words that had just come out of his mouth.
I had spent half the day digging through my wardrobe, searching online for the most proper outfit to make a good impression on his parents.
A long coat on the outside, a white sweater underneath—how could that be considered inappropriate?
The only reason my figure looked a little fuller was simply because of my natural curves.
I bit my lip, unable to say a word.
His mother’s voice kept ringing in my ears—
"If you want to marry into our family, your wardrobe needs to change. A girl who dresses like this has no place in our home."
"You—”
The harsh words made me lose my appetite. I wanted to argue back, but Shawn pressed me down with a firm grip.
"Enough. My mom is right—just listen to her."
I forced myself to finish the meal, all because of his comforting words: "Once we’re married, it’ll just be the two of us. You won’t have to worry about my mom."
I believed him. And now?