Chapter 4

TWENTY-FOUR

After nearly a year of being locked up inside, we decided to venture out for my 24th birthday. I was waiting for Allie in the living room of our new place. It was roomier for sure, with a big window overlooking our small town and an actual dedicated office space. It was definitely bigger than our university apartment – but truth be told, so were we.

I had to overhaul a lot of my closet this year. I had ventured hopping on a scale at home this summer and saw that I was up to 178lbs. So what? Who hadn’t put on lockdown weight. I didn’t feel unattractive or ugly, and I could still deliver in the bedroom. I was just more of a father figure than I had been a few years back.

With my silly little vest and tie, I waited for Allie. I had made a special request for my birthday this year, and she was obliging me. I could hear the struggle from inside the door, and then the thunder of her soft steps as she whipped open the door:

My girl had grown quite round. She definitely was heavier than I was, but I had avoided the anxiety of the number. She waddled out in her size 12 jeans, which no longer fit. A tight black bodysuit and a stylish jacket to match.

“Okay, let’s go, this thing is about to cut me in half.”

Taking the elevator down, I took in my gluttonous girl’s side profile. Full double chin, puffy cheeks, and for the first time ever – boobs! Glorious, heavy, full breasts. She looked so grown up now, not the pinnacle of youth from before.

Stepping out into the crisp November air, I could tell that she was cranky. Nothing fit her anymore and getting dressed was becoming a hassle. She had grown to “hate her wardrobe” and lived in sweatsuits mostly now. Both of us still remained WFH, with Allie just starting a new position at the local government office.

As we worked our way down the main drag, I kept catching glances of Allie in the windowshop. She was starting to resemble a different person. Her face had grown quite plush, and her belly was really rounding forward. I wish her ass was bigger, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“Are you hangry?” I asked, questioning her silence.

“Yeah.” She said curtly.

Arriving at the brunch place, I watched her twist the button on her shorts annoyedly. It really didn’t fit her. The long bench seating was perfect, and I prayed to the gods that what happened next was not a figment of my imagination.

Allie dropped herself too heavily into her seat and popped open her pants. No one else saw, or heard, but I felt the tiny metallic button hit my own soft midsection. She looked at me, aghast and ashamed, tears welling up. I grabbed her hand.

“Are you okay? Please, let’s not cry on a birthday. They say HAPPY birthday, not teary birthday.” She pulled it together and nodded with a giggle. “I can’t tell you what that just did to me. You’re so beautiful. And I am going to prove to you when we get home.”

I was hard as a rock. Never in my wildest dreams would I have dreamed she’d let herself go this far. She was months away from resigning herself into fatness. Her family couldn’t figure out what was going on, writing a lot of it off on COVID and not being able to get out. But I knew better than that.

We ploughed through bottomless mimosas and Eggs Benedict. We took an order of the sticky hashbrowns home for later. Walking through the park, I noticed Allie huffing, trying to keep up and not grow winded.

That night, she sat on my face and nearly suffocated me. Her big ball of a belly brushed my forehead as she drank pints of ice cream like water. We were running out of ways to celebrate my birthday. She was basically living a gluttonous life all the time now, and we no longer had any special activities to keep us on our toes. I scoured the internet for ideas but realized most of them had been exhausted over the last four years.

In our respective food comas, I ordered some KFC to pass the time. Allie poured herself into her volleyball uniform, as requested. It rode up her gut and cut off circulation in her arms. She wasn’t quite fat but resembled someone who just had stopped taking care of themselves. There was still hope for her to slim down and change her life around. She could cut out the fatty food, the late-night eating, start exercising, and in 6 months, she’d be back to the vibrant, athletic girl she was when we started dating.

While these thoughts pervaded my mind, the doorbell rang, as if on cue. Allie got up, belly out, and wobbled to the door. She opened it, embarrassed, and said, as requested, “Thank you so much. You have no idea how hungry I am…”

The delivery guy fumbled, clearly shocked by her full gut display. “Well…um…yeah, I mean, it’s – there’s a lot here! So, enjoy!”

“Oh I will. I’m a growing girl!”