Full Figured 12 Read online

  Full Figured 12:

  Carl Weber Presents

  La Jill Hunt

  and C. N. Phillips

  www.urbanbooks.net

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  The Biggest Loser

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Epilogue

  Lusting for a Big Girl - A Full Figured Story

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Urban Books, LLC

  300 Farmingdale Road, NY-Route 109

  Farmingdale, NY 11735

  The Biggest Loser Copyright © 2018 Urban Books, LLC

  Lusting for a Big Girl Copyright © 2018

  Urban Books, LLC

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the Publisher, except brief quotes used in reviews.

  ISBN: 978-1-9458-5521-4

  eISBN: 978-1-9458-5522-1

  This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.

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  The Biggest Loser

  La Jill Hunt

  Chapter One

  The ringing of the phone caused me to turn over. I wasn’t asleep, but the sound still disturbed me. I reached over onto the nightstand and looked at the name on the screen: the office. I thought about ignoring the call but decided to go ahead and get the conversation over and done with.

  “Hello,” I answered.

  “Good morning, Zen. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  I looked at the time. It was only eight fifteen, and Graves Realty, where I worked as an account manager, didn’t even open until nine. The woman on the other end, who had been my boss for the past four years, knew me well enough to know that I was an early riser and didn’t sleep past five thirty, not even on weekends.

  “No, Gayle, you didn’t,” I told her.

  “Well, I was just checking to see how you were feeling.”

  “I’m doing a little better.”

  “That’s good. Do you need anything?”

  I closed my eyes and thought about all the things I needed; then I simply responded, “No.”

  “Well, okay. I hope you’re getting plenty of rest.”

  “I am.”

  “We miss you around here. Mr. Graves even asked about you.”

  I found that hard to believe, because even though he still came to the office once a month to attend our staff meeting, Jerry Graves, the owner of the company, was damn near seventy and could barely remember his own name. I had a lot of respect for the man, though. He had taken a small, family-owned business and turned it into a multimillion-dollar real estate firm that handled the biggest commercial properties in the city. All things considered, I doubted that Mr. Graves even knew I was out sick.

  “Oh.” It was the only response I could think of. There was an awkward silence.

  “Well, Zen, I hope you get well soon. Did you get the flowers we sent?”

  “I did. They were really nice. Please tell everyone I said thank you.”

  “I will. Well, please let us know . . . uh, if you need anything.”

  “I will. Thanks for calling,” I said then ended the call. I put my phone back on the nightstand and looked around my bedroom. I didn’t want to get out of bed, but the overwhelming urge to pee that I had been ignoring since waking up was now too much to bear. I sat up, unable to avoid noticing that the other side of the bed was still made. I slowly stood and went into the bathroom, purposely not turning on the light. I emptied my bladder then washed my hands, making sure to avoid looking in the mirror.

  A few moments later, my stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten since leaving the hospital. On the way to the kitchen, I passed through the living room and saw the pillow and blanket laying on the sofa. He was gone. Probably where he always was: work. Even after what had just happened, I knew he was not going to miss work. I told myself not to complain, because one of the reasons I fell in love with him was the fact that he was a hard-working man.

  I started to feel faint and continued into the kitchen. Dishes filled the sink, and crumbs from what looked like Chinese food were on the counter. I reached to open the refrigerator, and I froze. My heart began pounding, and I almost stumbled backward. I told myself to look away, but I couldn’t. I could hear Dr. Anderson’s voice in the distance....

  “No heartbeat . . . I’m sorry . . . happens to women your age . . . high risk . . . emergency surgery.”

  “Surgery? What? When?” I asked between sobs. My life was in turmoil.

  “Right now,” she said.

  I gasped. “Will I be able to . . . Can I still . . .?”

  “Zen, it’s going to be okay. The doctor knows what’s best,” Var whispered, reaching over and taking my hand into his. I stared at the IV sticking out of my arm. I didn’t even remember when he had come to the hospital.

  “But . . .” I whispered.

  “It’s fine. I promise you we’re gonna get through this together. I promise.”

  I looked up, and we stared at one another. I wanted to believe him. He’d been so nice since we found out, but now that this had happened, I wasn’t sure.

  “We are?”

  “Yes, we are. We’re gonna get through it together. I’m right here.”

  “We’ve gotta get you prepped, Zen. I’m gonna need your signature.” She handed me a clipboard and a pen.

  “I don’t know,” I said, still trying to wrap my head around everything that was happening. I started crying all over again, this time even harder. I pushed the clipboard away and shook my head. I needed time to think.

  “Zen, listen. I know this is a lot to take in, but your life is at stake here,” Dr. Anderson told me.

  “Can’t we do something else?” I pleaded. “Anything but this.”

  “If I could, you know I would.” Dr. Anderson looked as if she wanted to cry right along with me.

  “I’m not going to let you die, Zen. Sign the damn paper.” I could see the tears in his eyes as he leaned over and kissed my forehead. It was easy for him to tell me to sign the paper. He already had a daughter when we met.

  We had been trying for two years to get pregnant when it finally happened. These pas
t four months had been the happiest of my life. I was finally going to be a mom. Now, I was living a nightmare.

  I scribbled my name on the paper, and he kissed me once again right before they whisked me off to surgery.

  The last two days since I’d been released from the hospital had been a blur. This was the first time I’d even left my bedroom. Now, I was standing here, staring at the small piece of paper hanging on the refrigerator door. The ultrasound. The photo of my unborn child. Our unborn child. Our baby. His baby. Our baby, which would never be born.

  I closed my eyes and opened the freezer door, taking out a gallon of butter pecan ice cream, then grabbed a spoon and walked out of the kitchen to return to my bed. I was glad he wasn’t there to see me; to tell me that I shouldn’t be sitting in the middle of the bed eating ice cream. As much as I wanted him to be there, I was glad that I could find comfort in the sweetness all alone, one spoonful after another.

  Chapter Two

  It took what seemed like a lifetime for me to make it from the sofa, where I had been lying, to the front door. When I opened it, my best friend Bailey was standing on the other side, holding a beautiful potted calla lily, which she knew was my favorite.

  “What, no chocolate?” I gave her a half-grin.

  “No, absolutely not,” she said, hugging me as she walked in and followed me into the kitchen, where I placed the flower on the table. I hadn’t seen her since she came to visit me in the hospital. That was almost a month ago.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m feeling better. I’m healing up nicely.” I shrugged.

  “And mentally? How are you feeling?”

  I didn’t know how to answer her question, so I didn’t. Instead, I asked, “I’m thirsty. You want something to drink?” I went to stand up, and a sharp pain went through my abdomen, causing me to wobble just a bit.

  “Oh, my goodness. Zen, are you okay?” Bailey jumped up to help me.

  “I’m fine, girl. I just moved a little too fast, that’s all.”

  “Are you sure you should be moving around at all?” She gave me a concerned look. “Where is Var? Why isn’t he here with you?”

  “He’s at work. And I told you, I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine. You’re acting like you’re about to pass out.”

  “Well, that’s because I’m fat.” I laughed.

  “Shut up, Zen.” Bailey sat back down and shook her head.

  “Well, one thing the doctor mentioned was that my weight may have contributed to what happened.” I swallowed hard, repeating the words Dr. Anderson had said while she was looking over my chart.

  “You’re not even that big, Zen.”

  “You know that’s a lie. I’ve always been big. I’ve gained a lot of weight, as if you didn’t notice.”

  Bailey and I had been friends since high school. At five feet eight inches, we were both taller than average, but our bodies were very different. My shoulders were wider, and I had always been what most people would call “big-boned.” Now, at almost thirty years old, I was what the medical field considered morbidly obese.

  “Yeah, but you also had a reason to gain weight,” she said, ever the supportive friend.

  “I’m three hundred and four pounds, Bailey.”

  Bailey’s eyes widened. “There’s no fucking way, Z.”

  “Yes, I got on the scale today. And my blood pressure has been up for the past couple of years.”

  “Well, we know why that is.” She rolled her eyes at the photo of Var and me on our last vacation, which hung on the fridge near the ultrasound photo.

  “Don’t be like that,” I said with a sigh.

  “Be like what? You know I haven’t been feeling Var for a while now. First of all, he needs to put his baby mama in check. And then, I ain’t like it when he—”

  “She hasn’t caused us any drama in a while now, Bailey, and you know things have gotten a lot better. We’ve both been working hard and getting our shit together,” I said, not wanting to even get into the ups and downs of my roller-coaster relationship.

  Even though Var and I had been together for almost five years, we’d had more than our fair share of hiccups along the way. There were even a few breakups and makeups when Var chose to “take some time” away from me. But he always found his way back. We’d been going strong for the past year, and although my pregnancy wasn’t planned, Var said he was excited about becoming a father again.

  Bailey wasn’t convinced. “Working hard was never the issue for neither one of you,” she said. “You’re both workaholics. But where’s the ring he promised you last year when you took him back?”

  “It made more sense for us to get the house, especially with the—” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

  Talk of a ring and a wedding had been put on hold once I found out I was pregnant, and we began the search for our new home. Var insisted that purchasing a house was the best move for us to make. Finding the right house had taken us a few months, but we did: a four-bedroom, three-bath, ranch-style home with a two-car garage and a large backyard. When I first saw the price, I felt that it was a bit out of our budget, but Var convinced me that if I put in a few more hours at work and made a little more money, we could afford it. Our offer had been accepted just days before the miscarriage. Although I had lost the baby and didn’t want to move, Var was still pressed about us buying it.

  “Oh, Zen, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t even be talking about this right now.” Bailey reached over and grabbed my arm.

  “It’s okay, B,” I told her, wiping the corners of my eyes. “Damn, I’ve cried so much the past week that I thought I was out of tears. I guess I was wrong.”

  “Please don’t cry, Zen. Oh, Lord, now I’m crying.” Bailey started sniffling and got up to grab the roll of paper towels, taking one for herself then passing me one.

  “We’re a hot mess.” I shook my head and wiped my tears. “For real, B, I’m good, and I’m getting better. But I do need to drop some weight,” I said.

  “I can help you with that. I can stand to lose a few pounds myself. We can meal prep, hit the gym, go walking. However you wanna do it. I got you, Z. Whatever it takes.” Bailey gave me a reassuring smile.

  I loved my best friend, and I knew she was going to be a great support system. She always had my back.

  I looked at the package of Oreos and the bag of Doritos laying in the middle of the table. “I guess I need to get rid of these.”

  Bailey grabbed the bag of chips and opened it, popping one into her mouth. “Hell, Z, we ain’t starting today,” she said with a laugh.

  “Girl, Var constantly brings snacks and food home. I mean, that’s one of the reasons I gained so much weight. We eat out all the time, and when we ain’t eating out, we’re eating takeout.” I sighed. “That’s gotta change.”

  The sound of the front door opening caused us to turn around. Var walked through the front door and into the kitchen, carrying two large boxes of pizza.

  “What’s up?” He placed the pizza on the stove.

  “Hey,” Bailey and I said simultaneously.

  “I didn’t know you were bringing pizza. I thought you were going to the grocery store,” I told him.

  “Well, we know you ain’t gonna cook, I ain’t feel like cooking, and we both hungry, so I picked this up,” he replied, taking a paper plate and putting three slices of pizza on it. He then grabbed the ranch dressing from the refrigerator, poured some on the pizza, and put the plate in front of me. “Here you go, baby. You want pizza, Bailey?”

  “Nah, I’m good,” she replied.

  “More for us,” he said with a shrug. “Z, you want orange soda or Coke?”

  “Bottled water,” I told him.

  He shot me a strange look. “You try’na be cute because Bailey here?” he teased.

  “Not at all,” I said, looking at the delicious pizza before picking up a slice and biting into it. “I guess I’ll go ahead and enjoy it now, because this diet is about to be cru
el.”

  Bailey shook her head. “It won’t be that bad. I promise.”

  “What diet?” Var asked, scrunching up his face.

  “Bailey is gonna help me lose a few pounds,” I told him.

  He frowned. “Why? You don’t need to lose anything. You look fine the way you are.”

  “It’s not about how she looks. It’s about her being healthy,” Bailey replied.

  “Exactly. And you heard what the doctor said,” I reminded him. “I just need to make some lifestyle changes. Nothing major.”

  “Okay, whatever you wanna do, Zen. You wanna go on a diet, then do it. Don’t be try’na take no leftover pizza to work with you on Monday, neither.” He laughed.

  “You’re not funny, Var.” I rolled my eyes at him.

  “Wait. Monday? What are you talking about? She just had surgery,” Bailey snapped.

  “She had surgery a month ago. I know that. And she’s been moving around a lot more. She’s going back to work.”

  Bailey looked at me. “I thought the doctor told you not to go back for six weeks.”

  “Well, she said I could—”

  “The doc said up to six weeks, and if she feels better, which she does, she can go back. It’s not like she works construction.” Var laughed. “Ain’t that right, Z?”

  “Yeah, that’s true,” I said quietly, avoiding eye contact with Bailey.

  “Besides, her boss calls her every other day asking when she’s coming back. They been ready for her to come back,” Var said.

  “And you’re fine with her going back to work after what she’s just been through?” Bailey’s voice was so cold that I felt goosebumps on my arm.

  “Hey, it was her decision, not mine. But if she says she’s ready, I ain’t gonna tell her she can’t. You know how Zen can be. She loves to work. That’s one of the things I love about her. We have goals we’re trying to reach: we buying this house, and then we’re trying to get a new car. I can’t do all that by myself. She knows she gotta do her part. That’s what makes us a team. Besides, no point in her laying around here moping about what happened. It’s time to move on and make some major moves.” Var walked over to the sink and washed his hands before opening the box and taking out a slice of pizza. “Hand me one of those paper plates, Z.”