#(unsolicited)

That would be most things these days. With a baby on the way. You can’t afford luxuries. You can’t even save up and surprise Colin. That one. The silver and blue. That’s the one you would get him, if only.

Your vision shifts and you see your reflection across from you. Your bloated cheeks, your tired eyes, the tiny bump peeking out from your unzipped jacket. No, you’re not here to buy a gift for your husband, just to exchange his new shoes for the right size.

A shadow darkens through the window of the jewelry shop and your sight pinpoints on the man inside. He looks up from the watches with a smirk. Slicked hair, a rather bold choice of facial hair, and bold blue eyes. They fall down to your stomach as the muscles in his cheeks tense. He gives half a smirk.

You frown and back away. Strange. You wouldn’t call it a look, more a leer. You feel your phone buzzing and reach into your pocket. You fish out your phone as you waddle away. You’re not that pregnant, not yet, but there’s no hiding it now.

You answer and suppress a groan. Your back is killing you. It doesn’t get better, just less or more agonizing. 

“Hey,” Colin meets your blunt greeting, “so sorry, babe, I’m caught up at the office today. Looks like another late night.”

“Really?” You sigh in disappointment, “I was hoping… I was going to cook you dinner before I went to work.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” he insists, “really. You should try to relax.”

“You’re right, I guess,” you find one of the long pleather sofas they have along the wide walkways of the mall and sit. The stiff cushions aren’t meant for comfort. “I just gotta exchange your shoes,” you set the bag beside you and reach to rub your lower back, “and uh, go home, I guess. I’ll leave dinner in the oven.”

“Ah, don’t worry about me. I’ll probably just order in here.”

You nod as you teeth your lip anxiously. A figure sits further down the sofa and you do your best to ignore it.

“Uh, yeah, alright,” you mutter, “love ya.”

“You too, babe,” he replies. 

The call ends. You look at your phone glumly before tucking it away. You go to grab the back but it crinkles as the stranger beside you pulls it open to peek inside. You turn to sneer at him and snatch it up by the handles.

“Hey,” you snip.

“Nice shoes. Bit big for a newborn,” he muses. It’s the same man, from the shop window.

You shake your head and slide to the edge, standing with some effort and a grunt. You don’t need to engage with this weirdo.

“You’re out here buying the baby daddy new shoes while he’s stuck at the office fucking his secretary, huh?”

You scoff and roll your eyes, “excuse me?”

“Ah,” he slaps his thighs before he stands, “I read somewhere that the most likely time for a husband to cheat is during the pregnancy. You see, you got all these changes going on. You get moody, you get whiny, and your ass gets fat.” He leans to the side and eyes your butt, “fatter.”

You wrinkle your nose in disgust and try to sidestep him. What a fucking creep. You didn’t ask and you don’t want to hear it.

“I say you take those shoes back and treat yourself to something nice down at the jeweler. I’d suggest a pearl necklace,” he snickers as he blocks your path, “you got a great neck for it, toots.”

“Get out of my way.”

“Look, the truth is hard. It hurts. It pisses you off. I heard your phone call, doll face, he’s not staying late at the office. Trust me.”

“I don’t fucking know you.”

“Oooh, and with a mouth like that, how is he not absolutely obsessed?” His voice grits in a way that makes you shudder.

“I didn’t ask and I don’t care,” you rebuff, “now excuse me.”

You elbow past him and he lets you. You realise, if he wanted to, he could easily corner you there. Especially since you can’t move very fast.

“Think about it. You know, I’d even buy you diamonds for a good blow job,” he taunts, “you got a pretty mouth.”

“Yeah, and you got a big one,” you toss back over your shoulder as you hurry away, lowering your voice to mumble beyond his comprehension, “jerk.”

💎

You get the right size of shoes after waiting nearly forty minutes in line and at the till as they searched the backroom. You check the new receipt and nearly blanch. Wow, that’s a lot for shoes. Only last weak, Colin reamed you out on how much you spent for the good toilet paper. Well, you suppose they’re a necessity for work. He just got that big promotion.

You take the new pair and head out. You search for a sign and find the bathrooms just past the food court. With the pressure off your bladder, you come back out and resist the temptation of the Cinnabon that greets you. You set off on your escape from the materialistic maze and ignore the jewelry shop as you pass it a second time.

You come out to the parking lot and deflate as you remember how far you had to park. God, your back is fucked. You need to lay down. You don’t know how you’re going to make it through work.

You head down the row and find your beat up car. You open the back door and put the bag on the floor. You swing the door shut and open the driver’s, turning to sit sideways on the seat as you wheeze and cry out. The twinge in your back as you shaking as you grip the interior.

Fuck!

You huff through the pain and steel yourself. You can make it home. Then you can relax and save your energy for work. You can’t call in again. Colin will flip.

“So,” a voice startles you before you can turn in the seat, “what do you think?”

The man with the mustache appears again, stepping out from behind the nearby SUV. He pulls a string of diamonds out of his sleeves and lets them dangle. He wiggles the necklace and gives a wink.

“You deserve something pretty… and I deserve my dick sucked,” he cackles, “you know, you could even pawn it so you have money for diapers.”

“Ew,” you twist in the seat and hold back another groan, “not interested, weirdo.”

“Come on, when’s the last time he fucked you?”

“Get out of here,” you reach for the door.

“No, I’m serious. Those funbags are already fucking huge and they’re only going to get bigger. He should be motorboating them like he’s on the goddamn lake–”

“Stop,” you go to pull the door open but he’s quick to strut forward and grab the top, holding it open. “Hey, let go, you fucking–”

“I’m offering you what you’re not getting anywhere else.”

“Speak for yourself,” you sniff. Things have been tense but they’ll get better. Besides, you don’t know this man. You don’t care what he thinks.

“Ah, well, how about I buy you dinner first. You must be starving and I can play the gentleman–”

“Not interested–”

“It’s a good deal–”

“You’re a fucking creep,” you snap and wrench on the door.

Caught off guard, his arms slackens and you manage to pinch his fingers in the door. He yelps and recoils as you let the door open just slightly and slam it once he rescinds his hand. He shakes out his fingers as he bends and growls.

You hit the locks and shove your keys into the ignition. He stands straight, clutching the diamonds and his injured hands as his eyes blaze in your direction. You shift into gear and grip the wheel, foot hovering over the pedal.

“Oh, this isn’t over, sweet cheeks,” his voice is muffled through the window, “you wait. You’ll be begging for this when you catch that fuckboy with shooting his swimmers into another slut’s pool–”

You stomp on the gas and veer out of the spot. You tremble as your ears ring and your eyes water. He’s wrong. He doesn’t know you. Or Colin.