I'm still cussing out Margot and her idiotic wish in that damn cave. Thanks to her, I'm dealing with these damn hills on my chest every damn day. Half a year it took me to figure out how to sleep on my side without feeling like I was suffocating on my own damn anatomy. My whole life, I was a belly sleeper, but these melons made it feel like I was bedding down on a bed of rocks. And my days of pounding the rugby field as an athlete? Shattered dreams. Now, I'm stuck pretending to be this dumb, grinning doll whenever the husband shoots me a glance – apparently, it's the secret code to getting what I want without being bombarded by a million questions.
But, take a peek through the cracks, and you'll see I'm parked in a plush mansion. Married to Mr. Moneybags. Sex? Well, that's a different story. Turns out, it ain't half bad when you quit fretting over the fact that you're stuck in a woman's skin. Life's a lot simpler when you accept you're gonna be rocking a pair of double-Ds until the end of days.
Today, he reluctantly drags me to a food court for a burger binge, and there I am, flashing that silly grin again. Oddly enough, I'm actually happy because, for once, he listened and took me to this greasy haven instead of some highfalutin restaurant. You've got no clue how sick I am of all that fancy, elite grub.
Sure, I miss my old life. Veronica, my first love, now God-knows-where in the form of a damn dog. But life bulldozes on, and somehow, I find myself on the brink of motherhood. It's absurd, really. I never envisioned this, never thought I'd be uttering the words "going to become a mother soon." But as I said before, this is my life now.