Sometimes I even got out of bed at night, stood in front of the mirror, and used my fingers to imagine what I would look like with a smaller, straighter nose.
For years, I saved money for surgery.
When I finally scheduled the procedure, Michael didn’t seem happy.
“Emily, are you sure?” he asked, holding my hand.
“I’m doing this for myself.”
He stared at me for a long moment, then nodded.
The surgery went well.
When I woke up, my face was completely swollen and my nose was covered in bandages. Dr. Harris warned me not to judge the results for several weeks.
Michael drove me home.
He was silent the entire way. He kept one hand on the steering wheel and held my hand with the other.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“I’m just tired.”
The moment I entered the house, I realized something had changed.
The large mirror above the living room fireplace was gone.
The hallway mirror had disappeared too.
I hurried into the bathroom.
