Let Urself Grow

"Huh?"

"Babe, your husband's a personal trainer. If you wanna bulk up, all you have to do is ask."

I like the suggestion. Firming up a little will make me feel less self-conscious. But... I don't know. Are you just saying this because you want me to be less of a stick-thin scarecrow? I mean, I'm seven inches taller than you but we're the exact same weight. You're solid muscle and I'm nothing.

Maybe you want me to change.

And maybe I want to change, too.

"Okay," I say. "I'd like that."

You laugh. My instant agreement surprises you. "Um, sure. But don't think that I'll be easy on you just because you're so cute. If you want me to train you, then I'm gonna train you." You get on your toes and kiss me.

"Do you worst."

***

We stroll together through the resort courtyard. The lanterns light up your handsome face.

It feels so nice to be back here. I can't believe it's been a whole year since our wedding. The place hasn't changed at all. You haven't changed, obviously.

Me, however...

Your warm hand glides down my bare back. Then it goes where it always does, into my sweatpants, cupping my growing ass.

The courtyard is empty, so I'm not embarrassed. But even if we were surrounded by people, I wouldn't feel embarrassed. You do this all the fucking time. You love feeling me jiggle.

"Happy anniversary, Lu," I whisper.

You squeeze my cheek. "Happy anniversary."

We walk like this for a while, your fingers molding my cheek and occasionally drifting... deeper. You're teasing me, getting me ready for everything you want to do to me when we get back to the hotel room.

We make it to the lobby. I'm about to head inside (you got me more than ready), but you grab my arm. I guess you wanna stay out here a little while longer.

"What's up?" I ask.

Your expression turns serious. "Remember when we were here last time?"

"Yeah?" How could I forget? We barely left the bed. Which is why I'm aching to get back upstairs. I want you. Now.

"Remember when we were on the balcony? And you said you wanted me to train you?"

Wow. That feels like so long ago.

We made all these plans. Workout routines. Meal plans. You kept reminding me that you weren't gonna go easy on me just because we were married.

Well, that didn't work out. Obviously. Every time I asked for a break, you gave in. I stuck to your meal plan, but because it always left me hungry, I started snacking between meals, something I'd never done before.

And now, a year later, I've gained just over 50 pounds, none of it muscle. I can lift a little more on the bench press, but that's about it. I've given up on trying to get your body, and I've settled into the curvier, softer shape that I'm growing into.

"Yeah. Best laid plans, right?"

You avoid my eyes. "Are you happy?"

"What?"

"Being back here, I keep thinking... I feel like I failed you. You wanted my help and I sort of..."

I grab your hands and pull them to my wide hips. "Lu. Do you like my body?"

You bite your lip. You don't need to answer, because you show me your answer every day. Sometimes multiple times a day.

"I'm happy," I whisper. "You're made for muscles, and I'm not. That's just how it is."

After all our time together, of you showing me your love, I've lost all my self-doubt. I could get as big as a house and you'd still love me.

Sure, we get looks sometimes. The muscle-bound short king and his tall, pear-shaped husband. But I don't care because you don't care.

Relief washes over your face. You pinch my sides. "Okay. Let's go upstairs."

***

I flop onto the bench. I need to sit again. It was a nice stroll, but this courtyard feels so much bigger now. I can't handle this much walking.

You join me. "Good thinking," you say as your hand rubs my thigh. "Gotta save your energy for when we get back to the room."

It's our fourth anniversary, and our first time back to the resort since I passed 350. The place is under new management now, so our room is a little nicer. This courtyard, though, it looks exactly the same.

"Four years," you say. "Can you believe it?" Your hand moves from my thigh to my belly. You're barely touching it, just enough to make me tremble.

"I don't think the concierge recognized me," I joke.

"Us," you correct, poking your slightly softer middle. You're still thick and muscly, but some of my bad habits are sticking to you. Now that you're actively growing me, it was bound to happen. And with your shortness, the extra 30 pounds are pretty obvious.

You still work at the gym, but you got promoted to manager. More desk time and spreadsheets. Less pressure to stay fit.

I know you like it. You play with your own beginner-belly almost as much as you play with my wobbling apron.

But not right now. Right now, your hands are all over me.

"Wanna go upstairs?" I whisper.

"We could," you say with a loving moob-squeeze. "But I think we should hit the restaurant before it closes. I wanna fill you up first."

You say that, but I know you're gonna join in.

Then you help me to my feet and lead me back inside. I'm hungry and happy and more in love than ever.

The End