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My mother-in-law ordered me a dress four sizes too small for her 40th anniversary party — then laughed when I told her I couldn’t even pull it over my hips.
So I bought my own dress instead.
But at the party, I overheard two women talking about the dresses Clara had chosen for them.
And that was when I realized mine wasn’t the only one hiding a secret.
The dress itself was gorgeous.
Honestly, that made the whole thing worse.
It was made of deep blue satin with a narrow waist and delicate sleeves — exactly the sort of dress I might have chosen for myself before pregnancy changed what felt comfortable on my body.
My daughter was only three months old.
A few weeks earlier, Clara had called while I was shopping and told me not to buy anything for her anniversary dinner because she had already ordered my dress.
I didn’t think much of it.
Then the box arrived.
I opened it.
Saw the dress.
Loved it.
Then I checked the tag.
I stared at the size for several seconds.
It was nowhere close to what I wore now.
At first, I assumed the boutique had made a mistake.
Still, I decided to try it on.
I stepped into the dress.
Pulled carefully.
And stopped.
It wouldn’t even go over my hips.
I stood in front of the mirror with one arm tangled awkwardly in the fabric while my baby started fussing from her bassinet.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “I know.”
I peeled the dress off, folded it back into the box, and immediately called Clara.
She picked up quickly.
“Did the dress arrive?”
“Yes. I think the boutique sent the wrong size.”
There was a pause.
Then Clara laughed.
“No, sweetheart. That’s the one I ordered.”
I sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Clara, I literally can’t get it on.”
“I know.”
I frowned.
“What do you mean, you know?”
“The party is two weeks away.”