Workplace Weight Gain (11)
The shirt ripping open at work should have been a wake-up call. Evan had bent slightly to reach for something near his desk when the strained buttons at the front of his shirt finally gave up, popping apart far enough across his stomach to expose the tight white undershirt stretched beneath. The sound alone made his face burn. He froze, one hand flying to cover the gap while a couple of nearby coworkers pretended very hard not to stare. He was enormous by then, and his work clothes had been losing the battle for weeks, but this was the first time the truth had announced itself so loudly in public. Claire, of course, was at his side almost immediately. She looked him over with concern that seemed perfectly sincere, though her eyes held a glimmer of amusement she didn’t quite manage to hide. “Okay,” she said gently, smoothing the torn shirt closed with both hands. “We are going shopping after work.” Evan muttered something about wanting to die, but Claire only rubbed his arm and told him not to be dramatic. “You just need clothes that actually fit,” she said. “That’s all.”
The trip itself was almost worse, mostly because Claire enjoyed it so much. Evan, still wildly underestimating his size, kept pulling shirts from the racks that were obviously too small before he even got them over his shoulders. Claire stood outside the fitting room smiling to herself as he struggled through one failed attempt after another, each shirt catching across his chest and stomach or refusing to come down far enough to meet at the front. “Try the bigger one,” she’d say sweetly every time he emerged frustrated. Evan resisted it until he couldn’t anymore, and when he finally got into a 6XL shirt that actually sat over his body without straining, he just stared at himself in the mirror in disbelief. “There’s no way,” he said. Claire stepped behind him, hands settling on his shoulders. “There is,” she murmured. “And you look good.” Evan shook his head, stunned that he had gotten this big, but Claire only leaned closer and smiled at his reflection. She looked delighted by his disbelief, delighted by the evidence of how thoroughly he had lost track of himself. By the time they left the store, loaded down with bags, she had him laughing again, and when she suggested stopping for a huge dinner because shopping was “so exhausting,” he agreed without much of a fight.
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