Deedee’s Holiday
IX
I replayed the conversation over and over while I threw stuff into my backpack at random. I barely thought about what I’d need or how long I’d stay. Hell, I didn’t even know if I could get a flight to Canada on such short notice. Kyley had been right—of course, she had—I’d been lying to myself for years. I’d had a good thing going with her, maybe even a great thing, and I’d fucked it up by keeping secrets. Nothing as huge as what I’d done to Deedee, but still. I’d blown my shot with Kyley, but if there was a chance, any chance, that I could make things right with Delia, I had to try. I didn’t dare to hope we could get back together, but I couldn’t leave things the way I had in Europe. She deserved better than that.
I tallied up the stuff in my bag: pajamas, two days’ worth of mismatched clothes, toothbrush, makeup bag, phone charger… Shit, the flight. I grabbed my phone and looked for flights. One was leaving in an hour; I’d never make it to Indy in time. The next had layovers in both O’Hare and Detroit; what kind of sense did that make?
Fuck it, Toronto was only like an eight-hour drive. I’d be there hours earlier than the next direct flight. I’d have to give some decent excuse at the border, but I had a good five hours to come up with something. I grabbed my purse and keys, silently thanking whatever higher power may or may not exist that I’d saved Delia’s address when I still had access to her accounts—who knows how long it would have taken to find her in Toronto otherwise. How many people lived in Toronto? It had to be a few million at least. I zipped up my bag and headed for the door without a thought for my job or my team. They’d manage without me for a few days—I hadn’t even thought to pack my laptop. I’d send Matt a DM when I stopped for gas.
I locked the door behind me, struggling to walk, not run, to the elevator. I mashed the button, willing the doors to open faster.
When the elevator finally opened, it held someone who didn’t live in my building.
It was her, it was Delia.
“…Hey.”
***
I sat in my apartment, heart pounding, room spinning.
This wasn’t right. Why was she here?
Deedee existed in that magical Vacationland, that place where context is always new and strange, so her presence was only slightly more odd than everything else. But here, in my apartment, in my home… Everything belonged here but her. I didn’t know what to say. What could I say? I thought I’d have hours to come up with a big speech. Some Sorkin or Ephron-esque grand monologue to win her over. My eyes darted around the room. My bag, packed so recklessly, dropped by the coffee table. The dirty dishes from breakfast still sat on the side table. The carpet, dusted with crumbs and hair, when was the last time I vacuumed? When we broke up in France, I felt exposed, like Delia was seeing the real me for the first time and was disgusted by what she saw. Now, though, I felt truly laid bare. She was here, in my place, seeing everything about my pathetic life. I was nothing, and finally, she knew it.
But why was she here? Why had she come all this way? I forced myself to look at her, to take her in. She looked tired, worn. Her makeup couldn’t hide the dark circles under her eyes. She had her hair pulled back in a sloppy ponytail, and her ends were split. Her pants were wrinkled, and her top sat slightly crooked on her shoulders. In all our months together, I thought I’d seen Delia in every possible state, but I’d never seen her like this.
She was beautiful.
I didn’t see that funny, put-together girl from the internet with perfect tits. I didn’t see the vacation-loving woman who enjoyed every drink, every bite of food, filling that body out even sexier. I didn’t even see that gorgeous expanse of skin, rising and falling and swelling and trembling beneath mine in the endless hours we’d once spent worshipping each other’s bodies. I only saw her. I saw Delia. And I loved her.
I opened my mouth to speak, but she cut me off. “I owe you an apology.”
“W-what?”
“I wasn’t fair to you before. I acted like everything that went wrong was your fault, as if I’m not capable of making my own decisions.”
“But I lied to you! Or, kept things from you, at least. I talked you into staying over there, encouraged you to overeat…”
She huffed a laugh. “I like eating, Nikki. It’s not like you shoved croissants down my throat.”
“I stalked you…”
“Like I’ve never been recognized by a fan in public. Well, it only happened twice before you, but be real—how long did you look for me before that night?”
I stared at my dirty carpet. “Like… a day?”
“And we were staying at the same resort, right?”
“Sure, but—”
“It was totally random. Like you said, it’s not like you followed me there.”
“Well… I… I deleted comments from your accounts!”
Her smile widened as if she was about to make more excuses for me, but then it vanished. “Wait, you did?”
I nodded.
“What kind of comments?”
I looked at the floor again. “Mean stuff, calling you fat…”
My body flinched when she started to laugh. “Oh, Nikki… I’ve been doing this since I was nineteen—did you really think I couldn’t handle a few hate comments? Almost every post gets haters.”
“But… but I… manipulated you.”
She looked thoughtful, staring into the middle distance, then said, “I guess you could look at it that way. But really, you were trying to protect me, protect my feelings. It’s lowkey insane you thought I needed that, but it was kind of sweet, in a way.”
It was too much, all too much. My body felt tight, like a bike tire filled with too much air. “Why…?” I whispered.
“Why?”
I looked up to meet her eyes. Her face looked calm, happy. “Why? Why are you doing this? Why are you being so nice to me!?” My voice grew louder with each question. My body vibrated, and I jumped to my feet—I couldn’t sit still. “You shouldn’t be apologizing to me! You were right to be angry, right to be furious! I used you! I followed you around like some kind of simp! I let you get fat just to satisfy my own creepy fetish.”
“Nikki…”
“No! Don’t apologize again, don’t feel sorry for me, don’t fucking pity me! I should be the one apologizing. I was just about to drive to Toronto to find you, did you know that? I don’t know what I was gonna say, but I had to tell you all of this and beg for your forgiveness! And now you’re here, being all nice, and it’s just… I just…”
I’d been pacing, but she stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. When I finally looked at her, I saw a single tear trace a line down her cheek. I blinked, my vision blurring. She pulled me into her arms as I started to cry. The feel of her soft body—her belly, her arms, her magnificent breasts—pressed against mine made my traitorous pussy flare to life, and I sobbed even harder. Delia hummed as she crushed my shaking body against her, running a hand over my hair like she was soothing a child.
“I forgive you,” she murmured.
I lifted my head from her shoulder, meeting her gaze. “But—”
She put a finger on my lips. “It’s my turn, now.”
I slipped out of her hug, swiping at the tears under my eyes.
“I’ve been miserable since I went home. Winter always sucks, but I’ve been starving myself and suffering at the gym, and do you know what?”
I shook my head.
“You were right. My engagement numbers have barely changed from back when I was skinny. But I think… even if they were lower, I would have ended up coming here eventually, anyway.”
Her hand floated toward mine, our knuckles brushing feather-light.
“Because…” Her voice cracked. She glanced away, then back at me. “Because traveling with you was the happiest I think I’ve ever been. You make me laugh! All the work you did, helping me with my content… I never knew how lonely I was travelling by myself until I had someone to share it all with. And if that means getting fat, well… I’d rather get fat with you… than be skinny alone.”
Between one heartbeat and the next, I was back in her arms. We’d kissed many, many times; hungry, greedy kisses, desperate for more; soft, tender kisses of greeting or parting; and quick, chaste kisses in public over a meal. This kiss was deeper, truer than any of those.
“I love you, Nikki,” Delia whispered.
The spinning, out-of-control roller coaster inside me finally stopped. My heart seemed to swell as if my chest might burst.
“Y-you do?”
She nodded.
“I love you, too,” I croaked. “I have for a long time. I don’t know why it took me so long to realize—“
Delia shushed me with another kiss.
***
Epilogue
Balancing two plates on one arm, I pushed the handle on our cabin door and bumped it open with my hip. The bed looked like a kid had emptied several baskets of laundry and tried to cover them with a blanket—except for the dark brown hair splayed across the pillow. I set the plates down on the small table and walked to the foot of the bed.
“Were you planning on sleeping all day, or did you want to maybe get some sun at some point?”
The blanket piles shifted, and the most beautiful, deep brown eyes squinted up at me. They immediately vanished under a plump, tanned arm. “Uuugh, I never wanna see another mudslide ever again…”
I wanted nothing more than to dive face-first into that mountain of soft curves, but I slid my hands under the sheets, searching. When my fingers found Delia’s toes, she bucked and shifted further toward the pillow. The whole bed shook, and I’m pretty sure it would have broken if it hadn’t been built into the wall. Bulkhead, I guess I should call it.
“Nikiiiiii! Stahp!”
I stepped back, crossing my arms. “Guess what day it is.”
Delia pouted up at me. “Did you really wake me up to torture me with games and riddles—when I haven’t even had breakfast—like, for real?”
I crawled onto the bed. Even with the blankets between us, I knew exactly where to plant my hands and knees to climb. Over thighs as big as my waist, a belly softer than the night before but still full and round, and a pair of boobs I could wrap my whole-ass arm around to hug them to me. I pecked a kiss on Delia’s cheek. “It’s our anniversary.”
“Anniversary of what?” Her whiny tone was gone, replaced with a low, throaty rumble that made me tingle.
“It was two years ago today,” I said, kissing her chubby cheeks again. “When we started traveling together.”
“The first time, or the second time.” Her lips quirked, and I saw a mischievous gleam in her hungry, hungover eyes.
“The first time, and also shut up.” I squeezed her breasts against me and pressed my lips to hers.
Just as I felt her body warming beneath mine, the telltale vibrations of her rumbling stomach shook against me. Her face was flushed, and not just from arousal.
“Breakfast?” She asked.
I slid the blanket down, exposing multiple square feet of lightly tanned tit. I heaved each of them upward, my arms trembling as I pecked wet kisses on each in turn. “We can’t have the girls wasting away—they’re barely mosquito bites…”
Several hours and many trips to the buffet later, I held a croissant hovering just above her mouth. “Eat up, hungry girl…”
She complied, chomping a huge bite. I stroked her hair, reached for a nipple, and pinched. I squirmed as she let out a moan. I couldn’t tell if her pleasure was driven by taste or arousal, and didn’t care. Rising high and proud, I could just barely reach around the curve of her belly to hold the head of our rabbit against her opening as I fed her another bite of pastry. The ocean of fat beneath my body bucked and roiled like the literal ocean beneath the cruise ship.
Delia’s chest rose and fell as I lay exhausted on top of her, my head nestled between glorious pillows bigger than our actual pillows. I felt them vibrate as she asked, “Didn’t you say something about getting some sun?”
I ran a hooked finger along the slope of one breast, lightly brushing with my nail. “It’s a special occasion. I thought maybe you’d rather stay in this bed and let me feed you until the buffet runs out of food.”
She tilted my chin up to kiss me. “Now that’s what I call a vacation.”
“I’d better go fill some more plates, then.” I rolled off of her, stepping into my slides. “After all, it’d be a shame to finish this cruise without at least getting you to three, er, one-forty.”
Delia propped herself on her elbows to smile up at me over the magnificent hills and valleys that were… her.
“Love you…”
I leaned down to kiss her.
“I love you too, Delia.”