#Chapter 82: Just One Bite

Hannah I couldn’t quite help the way my stomach grumbled as the scents of the reception’s lavish buffet wafted through the ballroom. Plate after plate piled high with gourmet delicacies caught my eye—tender cuts of meat glistening under a sweet glaze, buttery pastries dusted with powdered sugar, colorful displays of exotic fruits. I chewed my lip, my gaze wandering over the spread as the voice of my eating disorder battled relentlessly against the voice of logic. One little voice told me that this dress clung a little too snugly in certain areas for my liking. That if I took one bite too many, I might just go and burst right out of the seams. That I was a fat pig who didn’t deserve food even though my hip bones still protruded from beneath my dress. But the other little voice, the more logical one, told me that just one or two things wouldn’t hurt, would they? That I had worked hard today, and I deserved something good to eat. That everyone deserved food anyway,