Epitome Of Perfection

Sandra POV

"Wow! Doesn't she feel burdened by her legs? If I had a body like that, I might never leave the house. She should have at least exercised!"

The woman in her black dress chuckled. "Naturally! She's been like that ever since. She's used to that body, so why would she feel burdened? Besides, what if she's been chubby since birth?"

The group of women burst into laughter after their leader said that. Mockery was evident on their faces as they shot me mocking glances. I lowered my gaze.

"No wonder no one wants to court her. She's beautiful, but her body isn't. They call it a 'lollipop'—pretty face, throwaway body!"

And they burst into laughter again.

The sound of their laughter still echoes in my head as if it happened just yesterday. In reality, seven years have passed since I became the target of ridicule at my former school.

I let out a frustrated sigh as I scrutinize my body in front of the elliptical-shaped mirror, focusing on my lower extremities.

Having thick thighs and chunky arms is a struggle for me. I've had a robust physique since I was a child. I've never experienced wearing small or medium-sized clothes. It's always been double XL!

Back in college, I gained weight. Maybe it was because I always sought comfort in food. When everybody seemed to make fun of me, food became my comfort zone.

I've experienced being different in the eyes of others. I've been called chubby, plump, and hefty. After several years of being the center of attention, I should be used to it by now. I live in a world where humiliation is already a part of people's lives.

My Papa taught me not to humiliate people. Shame is a lifetime lasting effect that can be nursed but can never be cured. With the multitude of people who insulted me, I don't understand why I still can't get used to it.

But it turns out, it's hard to get used to something that will never be right in someone's eyes and feelings.

After finishing my studies, I tried dieting. Jogging here, jogging there. Zumba here, yoga there. There was some improvement. From double XL, I now wear XL clothes.

They say I'm not really that fat. Despite my large thighs and arms, they say my waist is small. But I still feel chubby. I feel like I'm the ugliest creature in the whole world.

Because if not, why doesn't any man find me attractive? Why is it that every time I try to date, I always end up hurt? Can't a woman with big arms and thighs like me be taken seriously? Does a person's figure matter for them to take it seriously?

"Sandra! Why is your face all scrunched up again?" my friend Margarette scolded me, bringing my mind back to the present.

I turned away from the mirror and looked for Marga's eyes. I found my best friend sitting on the edge of my bed while watching me. Marga's perfectly shaped eyebrows were furrowed together. I eyed her for seconds before releasing a weak sigh.

"Should I still go through with this, Marga?" I asked my friend with a subdued voice.

Marga raised her left eyebrow as she crossed her arms above her chest. "Are you crazy? Of course! Why wouldn't you?"

I pouted. "Maybe, like before, I'll get stood up. They'll just make up some excuse."

I avoided Marga's gaze and focused on my own reflection.

It's been days since Margarette set up a blind date for me. When she told me about it, she didn't have a hard time convincing me. My best friend knows that I'm a sucker for relationships, and I thought it was a good idea since I've never dated anyone throughout my entire life.

How could I experience that when no one seems to be interested in me?

I can still remember how excited I was at that time. I prepared the dress I wore then. I even went to a salon just to fix my hair and makeup. But all the efforts I exerted were put to waste.

Royce:

I'm on my way. See you!

My heart was pounding wildly inside my chest after I received that message from Royce, who happened to be my blind date. According to Marga, he's a friend of her co-worker and currently looking for a girlfriend. I got excited that we both wanted something like a relationship. I was sure this date would work.

"Ma'am, do you want to order now?" the waitress asked me for the second time.

She seemed annoyed with me because I'd been sitting there for a while without ordering anything except water.

I smiled at her. "Later, sister. My date is on his way."

She raised an eyebrow at me before turning away without saying a word.

Rude.

Minutes later, I got a text from Royce telling me that he's already here.

Me:

I'm wearing a yellow dress.

"My heart continued to pound loudly. It felt like something was tickling me. I adjusted my posture and focused my gaze on the restaurant's entrance where I could see every person entering.

More than half an hour had passed, but Royce still hadn't approached me. I kept glancing at my phone, waiting for a message from the man I was supposed to meet. My stomach was growling from hunger, but I forced myself to endure it while waiting for him. We needed to eat together.

Me:

I thought you're already here?

Did he get lost? That's impossible. The restaurant isn't that big. Besides, I described myself very clearly.

Me:

I'm the one wearing a yellow dress. Fair-skinned with curly hair.

I took a deep breath. My throat was getting dry, and my glass was empty. I was about to ask for a refill, but I knew the waitress would give me a scowl. I'd been here for an hour, yet I still hadn't ordered anything. If I did, and I ate first, it would be totally rude to Royce.

My heart thumped repeatedly when my phone beeped with a message.

Royce:

I'm sorry, Sandra. I won't be able to make it. Something came up.

My chest rose and fell with the breath I released. Remembering it still felt like a pinch in my heart. I felt strongly that Royce was already here and he saw me. He just made an excuse for not showing up. When in fact, he already saw me sitting on that chair while waiting for him. He already saw me. Specifically, my physical appearance.

That's the only possible reason, right?

"Sandra, that won't happen again. I swear! The guy I'm setting you up with is nice. Just because it happened the first time, doesn't mean it'll happen again now," Marga said, snapping me out of my thoughts.

She hugged me from behind, which brought a smile to my lips. My best friend really loves to embrace me. Maybe because she finds comfort in my curves.

I grinned at her reflection through the mirror. "Fine. I trust you. I know you won't put me in harm's way."

She giggled. "Of course! I just want you to have a love life before I get married."

Hearing those words from my best friend made me feel happy, touched, and sad all at the same time. I'm happy because she's getting married in a week to her fiancé Cole. After five long years of their relationship, they're finally tying the knot.

I'm also sad because it's impossible for me to have a love life within a week. Unless, of course, the guy she's setting me up with ends up liking me.

"I just hope nothing goes wrong," I said.

My best friend tightened her hug and smiled confidently at me. "When you go home later, you'll have a love life!"

As soon as the restaurant staff held the double glass doors for me, I stepped inside with my heart pounding in my chest.

"Thank you," I smiled at the staff.

He nodded at me and smiled. "Any reservation, Ma'am?"

"Ah, none. But I'm waiting for someone," I said with a hint of embarrassment.

I just hope he won't be rude to me because I haven't ordered anything yet.

"Alright, Ma'am. This way, please."

He led me to a two-seater table and assisted me in sitting down. I could feel my cheeks burning because of his gesture. I knew it was normal for people like him, but I couldn't help but feel a flutter of joy in my heart. It's rare for someone to do this for me.

"Just call me when you're ready to order, Ma'am." The waiter flashed a gentle smile that revealed dimples under his lips.

I nodded. "I will. Thank you."

He nodded again before turning away and walking further into the restaurant. I subtly released a sigh of relief. I scanned my surroundings. Only a few people were eating, and most of them were couples. It was obvious because of how intimate their interactions were.

Marga chose this place for us. It's my first time here, and I can say that my best friend has really good taste in choosing a venue.

The walls were painted in different hues like ash, brown, and white. There were various kinds of portraits hanging in every corner. All the tables were white, while the chairs were a simple gray. Classic but elegant chandeliers adorned the ceiling.

What caught my attention were the carnation flowers placed on every table. Their pink color brightened up the whole place.

A vibration from my phone interrupted my thoughts. I retrieved it from my pouch and unlocked the screen.

Damian:

I'm here.

All of a sudden, my heart started pounding strongly. My hands and feet suddenly went cold from the anticipation. With trembling hands, I typed a reply.

Me:

I'm already here.

I didn't need to describe my appearance to him. Marga already did. When she was at home, she texted Damian about what I would look like. I also asked Marga not to tell him that I'm overweight. I wanted him to see me in person and gauge his reaction.

While sitting, I pulled the hem of my black dress and straightened my back. My chest kept heaving up and down.

"This is it," I whispered to myself and let out a breath. "Everything will be okay, Sandra. You don't have to-"

"Sandra?"

A male raspy voice cut me out from talking to myself. I quickly raised my head, meeting his somewhat imposing eyes. A man wearing a loose black silk shirt with leather cuffs and black trousers greeted my eyes. The first thing I noticed was his rich chocolate hair, tousled in a way that promised finesse. He had strong arched brows and eyelashes so thick, it could be illegal. And then his eyes - they were deep and catastrophic, in a shade of black. He also had distinct cheekbones and an angular jaw; his pale skin made him look devilishly handsome.

The man chuckled, leaving me feeling embarrassed. 'Sandra, right?' he asked. 'Ah! Y-Yes! You must be Damian?' I asked hesitantly.

He nodded before extending his hand to me. 'Nice to meet you.'

'L-Likewise. Have a seat,' I said, gesturing to the chair across from me. He nodded and walked towards the chair in front of me. I immediately caught a whiff of his fresh, masculine cologne.

When we were facing each other, a smirk lined his lips. I saw how his eyes traveled from my face down my body. I felt a little conscious, but I forced myself to shrug it off. Soon enough, his grin widened further, causing my brows to furrow.

'M-May problema ba?' I calmly asked Damian. He continued to look at me, lips still curved in a grin. 'Wala naman. Order na tayo?' he replied.

I nodded, though I wasn't entirely convinced. 'Sure.' He called the waiter and we were given menus. I didn't bother to flip through them one by one, as I was sure I'd be ordering a vegetable salad. I wanted to show him that despite my voluptuous figure, I wasn't a big eater.

'Just a vegetable salad for me,' I told the waiter with a smile when he arrived. I emphasized the word 'vegetable' in hopes that Damian would realize I wasn't very hungry. The waiter looked at Damian, who was already looking at me with a grin on his lips.

'Sure you're only having that?' Damian asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 'Yes. W-Why?' I stuttered.

He cocked his left brow and exchanged glances with the waiter. They stared at each other for a few seconds, as if communicating silently. Soon after, they both shook their heads.

'Give her the damn salad,' Damian told the waiter. His voice was trembling as if he were suppressing laughter.

I wanted to ask what was wrong, and why my order seemed to be an issue for them. Didn't I impress Damian? I only ordered a little. Aside from not being a big eater, it would also be inexpensive for him. He should even be turned on, right?

But I had other thoughts in mind, yet I didn't want to dwell on them. I'd only get hurt if I tried to force them into my head.

'How old are you, Sandra?' Damian asked after placing his order. I heard that he only ordered juice and a sandwich. Maybe he's already full?

'Twenty-six. And you?' 'Twenty-nine. Working?'

I nodded. 'I'm an elementary teacher.'

The corner of his lips stretched upward, and he even wet them with his tongue. 'Nice. You must be a good role model for the kids.'

I smiled shyly. 'And you-'

My words were cut off when my cellphone, which was on the table, rang. I saw my older sister's name on the screen. I sighed and picked up, glancing at Damian. He was already looking at my phone. When he met my eyes, he nodded and said, 'Go on. Answer it.'

'Sorry, huh? Just a moment, I'll be back soon.'

'Take your time, Sandra.'

I pushed my chair back and stood up, pulling down the hem of my dress. Damian's penetrating eyes were on my legs. I felt a tinge of embarrassment when the hem of my dress quickly rose due to its snug fit.

Damn Marga for choosing this dress! I feel like a dumpling!

'Excuse me,' I awkwardly told Damian, to which he simply nodded.

I quickly made my way to the powder room and answered my overly excited cellphone.

'Sandria Olivine! What time are you coming home?' Celestine, my eldest sister, squealed, her voice high-pitched enough to shatter glass.

'In a little while, why?' I asked.

I examined my appearance in the clean mirror. I secretly thanked my stars that I still looked presentable. I was afraid I'd end up looking ridiculous in Damian's eyes.

'Can you buy me some puto bungbong from outside? I'm sure you'll pass by some. Please, bunso?' my sister pleaded with me.

If she weren't pregnant, I would have given in to her. 'Alright, ate. I'll bring some home for you.'

'Yes!' she exclaimed. 'Thank you, bunso! Take care. Bye!'

All I heard were soft, fading sounds as my sister ended the call. I shook my head before looking at myself in the mirror once more. I did a quick touch-up and decided to go back out. It would be embarrassing to make Damian wait there. He seemed like a nice guy.

A bit of conversation had passed between us, but I could already feel his goodness. He didn't seem like a man who judged a woman based on her appearance. I hope we get along.

I had a smile on my face as I left the powder room. I could already see our empty table from a distance. The food we ordered was already there. But no Damian.

Where was he? Maybe he's in the restroom too?

As I reached the table, I sat down. I examined my vegetable salad and grimaced. It didn't look appetizing. Damian's burger looked better.

But minutes had passed, and Damian was still nowhere in sight. I was beginning to feel a twinge of pain in my heart for no apparent reason. I glanced around, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but to no avail. The waiter who had served us earlier passed by my side.

'Kuya!'

He turned to me, coming over with questioning eyes. 'Yes, Ma'am?'

'Did you see the person I was with earlier?'

He took a moment to think, as if trying to remember who I was referring to. With every second that passed as he thought, my heart pounded louder and louder.

'Ah! Yes, Ma'am. I saw him leave a while ago. He seemed to be in a hurry. He's the handsome one, right?'

I nodded. 'Did he say anything or leave a message?'

I barely paid attention to what the waiter was saying when my phone rang again. From the illuminated screen, I saw a message from Damian that shattered my heart into pieces.

Damian; 'Im sorry, Sandra. It was nice to meet you, but I don't think we'll work out. Eat the burger I ordered, instead. It's for you. Don't worry, your bill's been taken care of. Take care.'