doing until later in their relationship. And it had hurt.
Yet another person she wasn’t good enough for.
“Hey.” An arm snaked around her waist, Joseph drawing her close. “What’s up? What did I say?”
The nugget hardened further. “I’ll wear what I bloody well want to wear. Don’t try to change me.”
“I thought you didn’t care about what your family thinks?”
Her brain didn’t. Her brain couldn’t give a toss. But there was no way she’d confess to the shameful need in her heart. The need for their approval. The need for just one word of praise.
The need to feel that she belonged. So pathetic.
“I don’t,” she said, trying for strong and certain.
But Joseph wasn’t fooled, not for a second. “Christie, you’re perfect just as you are. You don’t need a dress or makeup to make you beautiful. But we’re aiming to blow you mother’s head off tonight, right? Some dress-up wouldn’t hurt. Your kind of dress-up, though.”
The hard nugget inside her began to dissolve. Her kind of dress-up.
Yeah, why not? The only thing more satisfying than walking into the engagement party with Joseph on her arm would be walking into the engagement party looking awesome.
Christie took a breath. “Okay. Wait here and I’ll change.”
In her bedroom, she pulled open the wardrobe, shoving aside her moth-eaten duffel coat. Bronzy-green silk glowed in the darkness.
Once Marisa had dragged her out shopping for something to wear to a media awards dinner. She’d hated everything Marisa had chosen for her, but had been drawn to the color of this simple sheath dress. She’d left without trying it on, though, telling herself she hadn’t needed it.
Then the next day she’d sneaked back into the shop, letting the saleswoman convince her to try it. She’d stood in the changing room, looking at herself, feeling like Cinderella’s biggest, most ugly stepsister, hearing her mother’s voice telling her the dress was wrong for her, cataloging all her flaws, and she hadn’t been able to get it off fast enough.
Stubborn to the last, she’d bought it anyway, though it had stayed in the back of her wardrobe ever since. Until today.
She stared at it and realized with a funny shock that she wanted to wear it. And not for her mother. For him. For Joseph.
Getting out of her clothes, Christie pulled on the cool silk of the dress. She didn’t bother to check her appearance in the mirror but as she walked down the hallway, her nervousness grew so bad that she had to stop before the living room door just to get herself together.
Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. She didn’t want to go in because she didn’t think she’d be able to hide just how much his approval meant to her. And if he gave her the same look her mother always did…
You know he wouldn’t. He called you perfect just as you are.
Christie took a breath and stepped into the room.
He stood over by her bookcase, running his fingers over the broken spines of her books, frowning. “You know, you should really take better care…” He turned around, his voice faltering as he stared at her. Then he said nothing at all.
Christie gave him a minute then put her hands on her hips and stuck her chin in the air. “Okay, so you don’t like it. That’s fine, I—”
“Christie.” His deep voice stopped her in her tracks. “I don’t like it. I love it.”
Warmth spread inside her, like a happy cat uncurling in the sun. “Y-you love it?”
“Yes.” Joseph’s blue eyes burned into hers. “I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
The warmth began to spread, down her arms, down her legs, filling her up like the sun shining in a dark room. She blinked, her throat aching all of a sudden. “Thanks, Joseph,” she said thickly. “That means…a lot.” Then, to lighten the atmosphere. “You’re the best boyfriend ever.”
But he didn’t smile. “I’m not, Christie. I’m flawed, just like all the rest. Remember that.”
There was a shadow on his face, in his eyes. A shadow she’d once glimpsed the day he’d helped her rebuild her computer. She’d let it go then, all uncertain of herself and him. Now though, she was his girlfriend, wasn’t she? He could tell her stuff the way she told him stuff.
“Is there something wrong?” she asked hesitantly. “Because you can tell me. You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”
Joseph shook his head, turning away. “Yeah, I know. But I’m fine. Shall we go?”
But he wasn’t fine, any