Fragile Facade

Ashley walked into the living room, trying to put on a brave face, but her eyes scanned the room as if searching for an escape. Gerald looked up from his phone, a warm smile spreading across his face as he beckoned her over. "Hey, beautiful," he said, patting the sofa beside him. "Come here." Ashley hesitated for a moment, her mind still reeling from the turmoil she had just faced in the bathroom. But she pushed those thoughts aside, forcing a bright smile onto her face as she walked over to him. As she sat down beside him, Gerald reached out and pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her waist. Ashley felt a surge of anxiety, but she tried to relax into his touch, letting him guide her onto the sofa so they were lying side by side. Gerald's hand began to roam over her body, his fingers tracing the curves of her hips and waist. Ashley felt a twinge of discomfort as his hand moved up towards her ribcage, her heart racing with anxiety. She knew that he could feel her ribs, a stark reminder of her struggles with anorexia. But Gerald didn't seem to notice, or if he did, he didn't say anything. His hand paused for a moment, and Ashley could sense his hesitation. She knew that he felt her ribs, and for a moment, they just lay there, the only sound the gentle hum of the jazz music in the background. Ashley quickly moved his hand, trying to play it off as if she was just adjusting her position. She turned to face him, her lips brushing against his as she kissed him. Gerald's arms tightened around her, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss. For a moment, Ashley let herself get lost in the sensation, trying to forget about the turmoil that had been brewing inside her. But as they broke apart for air, she couldn't shake off the feeling that she was living a lie. She was pretending to be someone she wasn't, someone who was happy and carefree. But the truth was, she was fragile and broken, and she didn't know how much longer she could keep up the facade. Gerald smiled at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I love you," he said, his voice low and husky. Ashley forced a smile, trying to match his enthusiasm. "I love you too," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. As they lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, Ashley couldn't help but feel like she was trapped in a nightmare from which she couldn't wake up. She was living a life that wasn't hers, a life that was dictated by her eating disorder and her fear of being discovered. And she didn't know how much longer she could keep it up.