Good Enough

A/N: This story was a practice to create a story, where we were to freeze down a moment in time. Enjoy!


Ever since the first time she met him, it had always seemed like she was running.

It had been love at first sight, how corny that may sound. He’d looked at her with clear, blue eyes and a crooked grin, and Rose had been sold. Just like that he became the centre of her universe, and she became the nerdy little sister of his on-and-off girlfriend.

She pretty quickly realized she wasn’t good enough for him. He was handsome, smart, successful. And what was she? A bore, that was what she was.

So she did her best to keep us, ran as fast as she could in order to catch up to him. She started exercising, dieting, using make-up. She started looking pretty, but what was the point, when her sister was gorgeous?

So she got plastic surgery. Used every penny she’d saved up in order to go to Europe to look perfect. She was smart about it. She used mathematics to make sure she looked natural. She only used the doctors with the best reputations. And she became beautiful. Men began turning their heads when she walked by.

But what did it help that she was beautiful, when her sister was charming and daring, and she was everything but?

So she learned to fake it.

She learned how to flutter her eyelashes. She learned what angle she should turn her head when she laughed in order to emphasize the gracious curve of her neck. She learned how to make men dance after her tune.

And he wanted her. He lusted after her and he took her to his bed, and Rose felt like everything around her had turned pink and pretty. This was what she had dreamed about for four years. This had been anything she wanted. She could hardly keep her tears of joy at bay as they became one, and she fell asleep in his arms.

She woke up to the sound of clothing being picked up. Sitting up she stared at him as he was crouched down upon the floor; pulling his shoes on.

“Are you leaving?” she asked, surprised.

“Yeah, it was fun, honey, but I have an early meeting tomorrow.”

Fun? It hadn’t been fun. It had been true love being united as one.

“Why are you leaving?”

He sighed. “I told you it was fun, but Rose… it wasn’t really more than that, was it? Just two people, scratching each other’s itch.”

She stared at him and opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She felt as if he’d doused her with cold water. Like time had suddenly stopped moving just for this moment, just for her.

She thought of everything she had done for this man. She thought of the burning passion of her feelings. She thought of her love, which he had so carelessly described as an itch.

She thought of the pain she’d gone through for that man. She thought of everything she’d given up. She had become beautiful for him. She’d become desirable, funny, charming. She’d become everything any man could ever want, and now he described her as a means to an end. As something to fight his itch with.

His itch for Rose’s sister, who so carelessly dumped him again and again.

Rose thought of all of this, and she wondered what had happened. When had she refused herself the pleasure of a piece of cake? When had she given up lounging with her favourite book in order to go for that extra run? When had she given up on her dreams in her aspiration to win his love? And for what?

She looked at him and the carefree look on his face. He wasn’t contrite, wasn’t even sorry. He didn’t love her, didn’t care for her. No matter how much she ever did for that man is was never going to be enough. Not for him.

She looked at him with tears in her eyes, and felt as if, as she came to this realization, time started once again, and the earth was once again orbiting around the sun. But nothing was the same.

“I’m never going to be good enough, am I?” she asked.

“Good enough for what?” he said, while simultaneously pulling on his jacket.

“Good enough for you.”

“Sure, you are. Last night was fun.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She felt the first tear dripping down upon her hands. “No matter what I do, you’re never going to love me.”

He looked at her in silence. Then he came over, bend down and kissed her. “I’ll come over tonight,” he said, and once that would have been everything Rose had ever dreamed of hearing. But it wasn’t enough. Nothing but a returned love was enough.

“Don’t bother,” she said, but he’d already left.

She leaned back and stared at the ceiling. Then, suddenly, she got up and went to the kitchen. It didn’t take long to bake a cake. An hour and there it was; sitting in front of her ever so tempting. She cut herself a huge slice, and gave a hum of pleasure as she took the first time.

She didn’t care this might make her less pretty. She’d go to Europe as soon as she could afford to. She’d heard they weren’t as anal about beauty as Americans. Perhaps she’d find someone who found her beautiful even though she loved chocolate cake.

Rose leaned back and smiled.

For the first time in four years she felt good enough.

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