Chapter 15

For the next few weeks not much changed.  I didn't see Stephanie again, nor did I make a second trip to the buffet.  I actually started to get my eating under control a bit, but I was gaining slowly.  Still listless and depressed, I did almost nothing other than work, eat, and sleep.  One evening I went to a movie by myself, and I started visiting the library more often, but I doubted that anything could fill the hole in my heart.

One morning I was stocking some shelves at work, bending down to put away an alarm clock and hoping my ass wouldn't split my pants, when I heard a soft voice behind me.

"Jenna?"

My heart thudded as I stood up slowly, hardly daring to turn around to see the voice's owner.

"Heather?"

She was move beautiful than I remembered.  Her jeans clung to her rounded contours, highlighting full calves, delectably plump thighs and hips to die for.  Her blouse was unbuttoned just enough to give a hint of cleavage, her D cup breasts causing the closed buttons to look slightly strained.  That wonderful globular tummy of hers had grown by a couple inches, hanging ripely over my snug waistband.

"Howya doing?" she asked.

I shrugged, looking away.  I wanted to say something but all of a sudden I was choked up, my eyes filling with tears.  Before I knew it she had me wrapped in her soft arms, pulling me close to her.  It felt like coming home.

"Shhhh, it's ok," Heather whispered as I started to sob on her shoulder.

"I-I-I'm so s-s-s-sorry!!"  

"C'mon, let's get out of here for a bit and talk."

I finally extracted myself from her embrace, knowing I must have looked a mess.  I told Jimmy I was going on break and would be back sometime later.  I think my puffy eyes and running mascara kept him from asking any questions.  A couple minutes later we were sitting in her car.

"I've missed you so much, and I'm so sorry about everything!  I was so stupid!" I blurted out right away.

"I think we both made some mistakes," Heather said.  

I noticed that she seemed a little withdrawn, her voice soft but lacking in warmth.  I knew I had hurt her deeply, and I couldn't blame her for not wanting to be hurt again.

"Listen," I told her, "you don't need to forgive me for what I did.  I'm not even sure you should.  I just want to let you know that I realize how incredibly selfish I was, and how much I wish I could take it all back.  At first I thought I was just going to have fun feeding you a little, but then I fell in love with you.  I shouldn't have tried to control or manipulate you, and I certainly shouldn't have gotten angry and blamed you when I gained some weight.  You were always much better to me than I deserved, and every day I regret ruining such a beautiful friendship."

Heather listened impassively, waiting until I was done.  Then she cleared her throat.

"I can't say that didn't hurt.  I was . . . well, I fell in love with you too.  I even enjoyed getting bigger, first for you but eventually for myself.  As you can see, I haven't lost any weight.  I still don't know if I'm a lesbian, or bi, or just a straight girl who fell for another girl.  And that doesn't really matter to me.  What does matter, is that I fell in love with you.  And when you started gaining too then, well, I really enjoyed it.  I liked it because I wasn't the only heavier one, but I also liked it because I thought it made you even sexier.  So then when you accused me of doing that to you on purpose, well, I was hurt that you thought being fat was so disgusting.  I mean, you wanted me to be fat, but the thought of getting fat yourself was somehow undesirable.  And then . . ."

She trailed off, but I knew what she thinking.  My childish tantrum.  Our phone conversation, when we both said some very hurtful things.  The couple months since then, the heartache, the loneliness.  

"I just have to know," she finally said.  "How do you really feel about me?  And how do you really feel about being . . . fat?"

I swallowed, looking down for a moment at my bloated form.  I thought about what she meant to me, how I didn't truly understand until she was gone, my reaction to her leaving, and whether it really bothered me to be fat.

"I thought being fat was good for other girls, but not good for me.  I had to be in control.  I think I'm realizing that love is letting go of control.  Love has a lot do with trust.  I know I love you, and I'll love you even if you lose every single pound you gained.  I think I'm starting to trust that you really do like me bigger, and what other people think really doesn't matter compared to what you think.  I just . . . I love you."

I looked back down at my lap, tears trailing down my cheeks.  This was it, regardless of what happened next I was so thankful I had gotten the opportunity to tell Heather how sorry I was, and how I really felt.