chapter 3

Six weeks later, Emily watched as Tom got dressed. Love handles sat on top of the side of his waistband, his shirt not on yet. His softened chest wobbled slightly as he walked around, his feet heavily landing on the carpet.

"You seen my shirt?" Tom grunted as he rifled through a chest of drawers.

Emily stood up from the bed where she'd been sat putting on her jewellery. "Any of them? Or a specific one?"

"The, uh -" he stopped speaking for a moment as he scratched his paunch. "The light blue one."

Walking towards him, Emily picked up the shirt from the chair that he'd walked - more like plodded - past. Tom, facing away from her, carried on searching. His plump ass clearly pushing against the seat of his pants.

"Why'd you need that specific one, sweetie?" She already knew. She just wanted to hear him say it.

He turned around to face her, blushing slightly. Noticing the shirt clutched in her hand he tried to take it.

Moving the shirt out of his reach, Emily's face became coated in faux-sympathy. "You know saying it is going to help you lose weight, Tom. Now, I'll ask again. Why do you need this specific shirt?"

Tom looked down at his belly guiltily. He held it in both of his hands, grabbing it and jiggling the flab, angry at it. "Because it's the only one that fits me."

"And?"

The mantra that Emily had Tom saying since he came home with burst shirt and pant buttons over a month earlier continued to embarrassed him, but it still came out: "because I've turned into a fat boy."

"That's right." Emily held up the shirt for Tom to slip his arms into, buttoning it up for him once he turned around. She rested her hands on his chest after she'd finished - the collar button still undone thanks to his thick neck and pudgy chin. She sighed as she looked down at his body.

"I know." Tom didn't even need to look. He could feel it. The buttons straining across his gut. "It's tight."

"Well, it'll have to do. You're not getting any bigger clothes. Besides, you're at 208lbs. Your gain is slowing down. Soon you'll lose all this blubber, won't you?" She handed him his gym bag.

Tom nodded, giving him a serious double chin. He knew her hope of him losing all of this weight was the only thing keeping her kind to him. He definitely didn't have the heart to tell her that he'd not once used his the building's gym at work in the last couple of months. He was usually too stuffed to move that much.

"Now, fat boy, get to work." She gave one last look over his shirt. "And maybe don't breathe out too much."



Tegan looked up from her computer as Tom walked in. It was easy to tell when it was him stepping out of the elevator because he'd started walking so heavily in the last 10 or so lbs. She watched the way he moved and knew that the loud footfalls were more due to his growing laziness than his growing waistline.

She just caught a view of the back of him as he walked into his office. His suit jacket wrapped tightly around him, messenger bag slung over his shoulder, takeout bag clutched in one hand. He'd left his gym bag in his car. Again.

Wasting no time, Tegan grabbed the stack of files she had for Tom and entered his office. She knew technically she should knock, but the post-gorging situations she'd caught him in over the last couple of months meant she could get away with it.

Tom was still stood up, both bags on his desk. As soon as he turned around, Tegan knew she was going to have a hard time keeping a straight face.

His suit jacket was closed by only one button that sat between his chest and his gut. His belly looking more prominent for it.

"I've got those files for you," Tegan said a bit too quickly in an attempt to compensate for staring.

Grunting as he struggled slightly to unbutton his jacket, Tom sat at the desk. "No breakfast?" He breathed heavily.

"You've already got breakfast!" Pushing the takeout bag closer to him, Tegan knew he was secretly eating more to make up for the fact that she was complying with his request that she not bring him food anymore.

"Yeah... I guess. Well, Emily says that soon I'll lose all this weight, so then you'll be back to getting my meals for me as part of your daily duties."

A smile passed over Tegan's lips. He really didn't see how stupid what he just said was. Too focused on food.

Now was time for her to start the chain of events that she'd had planned for the last few weeks, ever since Tom's gain started slowing.

"The Umberto case needs top priority. They want it finished by the end of the month. They want us to fly out to them tonight."

Tom looked up, surprised. "Really? But that's not enough time. We'd need flights and accommodation for the next 2 weeks and-"

"They've already sorted it. They requested me and you specifically given that our names are always the ones on the documentation they receive. We fly out at 6 this evening."

She began to leave, hearing movement and then the rustle of Tom reaching one of his tubby boy hands into the bag of food.

Stopping at the door, Tegan turned to see that Tom had taken off his suit jacket and instantly realised why he bothered to wear such an obviously outgrown jacket to begin with. He was getting seriously out of shape and the sweat patches between his meaty arms and chubby chest proved it.

"Don't worry, sir. The hotel has 24 hour unlimited buffet."

Tom looked up, a mouthful of burger in his mouth, lettuce hanging slightly from his lips, ketchup on his chin.

"With room service options available, of course."

He nodded, swallowing the burger. Immediately grabbing a handful of fries and cramming them into his mouth.

Tegan left the room.

The next 2 weeks are going to make him balloon.