My Big Fat Low-Fat Wedding - By Katya Starkey Page 0,4

this is the time for him to be groping me so wantonly though! “Oh!” I gasp with immense relief as Callum undoes the back of my sports bra. “Ooooooooh…” A longer sigh of relief follows from my released lungs.

There’s no more chest pain. I’m wonderfully free of agony inside my upper torso.

“What size sports bra have you…?” Callum pauses and I feel him messing around inside the back of my shirt. I figure he’s looking for the bra label. “Why on earth have you put on a size thirty four B cup, Em?”

Oops.

I look guiltily up at the doctor, and then at Callum when he finally pulls his hand out of my top.

Well, at least the good news is that I wasn’t having a heart attack. The chest pain was from my too small bra that was squishing the life out of my overly large breasts and poor lungs. The bad news is that I might have to pay out of pocket for wasting valuable health carer time, simply out of desperation to wear an inconceivably inappropriately sized bra in attempts at feeling smaller.

Shame on stupid me for the second time today.

***

An hour later Callum has driven me home from the hospital. Clambering out of the car, I’m surprised when my fiancé hurries round to my aid. “Let me carry you inside, honey darling,” he gushes.

Honey darling? What’s got into my lovely beau lately? “If you carry me inside at my current weight you’ll do your back in, my love.”

“Are you saying I’m not strong enough to lift you?” Callum stops me from moving forward by standing in my way. He rolls up the sleeve of his white shirt and starts flexing his —as he calls them— guns. His biceps.

I can’t help but giggle. “No, darling. I’m not saying you’re aren’t strong as ever. It’s just… I think you should wait until after the wedding to carry me across the threshold.” By then I’ll be down to a more sensible dress size. I’m not dieting and exercising my heart out for nothing these days.

“If you insist.” Callum takes my arm and guides me away from the car. I feel a bit dizzy and my footstep falters causing me to lean further into him. “I knew it. That damn sports bra is still cutting off your blood circulation, Em.”

I’d kept the too tight bra on after leaving the hospital with the hooks undone. I had no choice. There was no way on earth I was going to walk around braless with my great big knockers jiggling about.

We’re nearly at the front door of our semi-detached terraced home. “Fine.” Stopping, I wiggle around under my shirt. “I’ll take it off.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Callum growls like an animal and stares at my chest.

“Oh stop it.” Playfully, I bump his shoulder with my own, causing my now freed-from-bra boobs to jiggle like mad.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.” Turning, Callum and I see Lara heading up our driveway. “Why do engaged people have to practically do it on the street? Seriously, Em? Stripping your clothes off in the middle of the day?”

I grin stupidly at my best friend forever. Apart from Callum, Lara really is my BFF. I’ve known her since the day she moved into the house next to mine at the age of six for us both…

I found her sitting outside in her front garden singing like a magical bird. At least, that’s how my six-year-old-self had perceived her lovely voice to sound like way back then. My six-year-old-self was also a jealous self, because Lara was a skinny, black haired girl, while I was a chubby blonde awkward child who sucked her thumb until the age of nine.

Sucking said thumb, I’d waddled my way over to a six year old Lara with her magical voice and I’d told her flat out that she couldn’t sing. Simply out of spite and jealousy. I’d even said to her that she sounded like a frog. After which, pretty little raven haired Lara had risen to her feet, gracefully pranced closer to me and punched me in the face.

As I was to later realise, that punch was much deserved. As deserved as all the punchings Lara inflicted on my enemies at school who bullied me over the years about my weight. That’s how Lara and I became inseparable mates. She always defended me when I was a chubby kid. Thankfully, Lara doesn’t have to punch anyone on my behalf these days.