**Diary Entry 21st May**
“Olivia, are those extra pounds of yours really not a problem?”Dmitris mother refused to let it go.
“In my opinion, theyre not extra at all, especially since my future husband doesnt mind them. Not everyone has to be a waifish twig,” Olivia retorted, glancing pointedly at Elena and Dmitris mum. The sheer cheek of it made Elena flare up.
“Mum! Did you buy that slimming tea? The chia seeds? Why did you put so much butter in my porridgedo you *want* me to gain weight?! Dmitri, you bought *yeast bread* again? Thats pure carbs! And I need three glasses of water in the morning, or the scales wont budgewheres my water?!” These were the sorts of tirades Dmitri had endured since childhood.
His mother and older sister were perpetually obsessed with their figures. Now, at thirty-eight, his sister had never marriedshe resembled nothing so much as a gaunt, hollow-eyed mare, while his mother was as straight and rigid as a knitting needle. It wore on him so much that he was always drawn to lively, hearty people with proper appetites. And hed vowed his future wife would be nothing like them. Then he met *her*.
Her name was OliviaLiv to her friends. Even her name was soft and sweet, like a freshly baked scone. No, she wasnt overweight. But at five-foot-eight, she carried her 13 stone with effortless grace.
And every ounce radiated health and joy. Curves in all the right places, a waist that dipped just so, dimpled cheeks you ached to pinchDmitri was utterly besotted the moment he saw her.
One evening, hed dropped his sister at the bank for an errand. She took a ticket and sat, while he wandered the lobby, waiting.
Then he heard ita silvery laugh, bright as a bell. Quiet, but infectious enough to make him smile. He followed the sound and found its owner: a teller joking with an elderly customer. She laughed again, and Dmitri couldnt look away.
From her wavy chestnut hair to her bow-shaped lips. And yesshe was *ample*. Delightfully so.
In the car, Elena droned on about some bloke whod dared to suggest a steak dinner. “I *only* eat boiled chicken breast,” she sniffed. Dmitri nodded absently, his mind still back in the bank.
“Are you even listening?” she snapped.
“Of course,” he lied.
The next evening, he raced back to the bank. Relief flooded him when he saw her still there. At closing, he fetched roses from his car and marched straight to her.
“Miss fancy acquiring a husband? Or a son-in-law for your mum?” He thrust the bouquet at her.
She burst out laughingprobably at his hopeless expressionbut took the flowers. “Goodness, these are gorgeous!” She buried her face in them, inhaling deeply, while he admired *her*.
From then on, they were inseparable. Some people just *fit*. A month later, he proposed. She said yes.
Meeting her parents was next. Her mother, Eleanor, was a statuesque beauty who kissed him soundly on both cheeks, flustering him thoroughly. Her father, Richard, clapped him on the back like an old mate and steered him to the kitchen.
“Best stay clear of the womentheyll talk your ear off. But dont worry, Eleanors a gentle soul. Thats why Ive loved her thirty years. And Liv? Shes a diamond. Look after her, son.”
Dinner was a riot of laughter, second helpings, and Richard playing guitar while everyone sang along. Dmitri felt at home instantly.
Three days later, they visited *his* family. Olivia bought handmade éclairs from a posh patisserie. His mother, Margaret, answered the doorand froze.
“Oh hello, darling,” she managed, gaping at Olivia.
“Mum, lets not stand on the step, eh?” Dmitri nudged her inside.
“Of course! You must be Olivia?” Margaret recovered just enough to eye her up and down.
Olivia beamed. “Pleasure to meet you!” She thrust out a hand, leaving Margaret blinking.
Dmitri made introductions. His father, Nigel, broke the awkward silence with forced cheer. “Champagne! Perfect. Anderpastries? Lovely!”
Margaret recoiled. “*We* dont eat sweets, especially at night.”
Nigel snatched the box. “*I* do. Liv, these look smashing.”
They toasted. The silence thickened.
Olivia studied her glass. Elena stared at Olivia. Then Margaret struck.
“Olivia, dear, I know an excellent nutritionist. She could *help* with your situation.”
“Situation?”
“Those extra pounds, darling. Theyre a health risk!”
Olivias smile turned razor-thin. “My fiancé adores every inch. Not all of us fancy resembling a lamppost.”
Elena gasped. “Youre *twenty stone*!”
“If I gain weight after children, Ill still have a husband who worships me. Speaking of*are* you married, Elena? Surely a slim thing like you has men queuing up?”
Nigel hastily raised his glass. “To the women of this familydifferent, but dearly loved!”
Later, outside, Dmitri and Olivia exhaled in unisonthen burst out laughing.
“Your mother called me *fat*,” Olivia wheezed.
“Youre *glorious*,” he said firmly. “And familys family. We dont choose them.”
The wedding was set for August. Olivia dazzled in a dress that hugged her curves, drawing every eyeespecially Dmitris. Her mother, Eleanor, was every bit as striking, outshining Margarets pinched, sack-like ensemble.
During the first dance, Margaret muttered, “Shed look better if she *lost a stone*. That dress does her no favours.”
Eleanors voice cut through the crowd. “Plenty of men prefer *real* women. Your son certainly does. And watch your tongueIm easygoing, but I *will* defend my daughter.”
The two women locked eyesuntil Richard swooped in. “Ladies! But I must steal my wife for a dance.”
As the music swelled, the tension dissolved. The night rolled on, laughter ringing.
Heres hoping the newlyweds live long, love deeply, and prove that joynot waistlinesis what truly matters.
