Nothing My Husband Bought Fit Me
Chapter 1
My husband dotes on me. He's always saying I'm the one he cherishes most in this life.
Everyone else envies me too, saying I married well—pampered like a princess.
It all started when I mentioned, offhand, that tailored cuts flatter my figure. From that moment on, he kept it in mind every day, going out of his way to gather all kinds of designer womenswear for me.
In the walk-in closet at home, there's always a wardrobe filled exclusively with my new clothes—each piece haute couture, with exquisite fabrics and impeccable craftsmanship.
On New Year's Eve in our third year of marriage, the house was lively, packed with relatives chatting and laughing.
With a smile, my husband handed me a gift box.
"Go on, open your New Year's present."
The frustration and resentment I'd been bottling up for so long exploded in an instant. I shoved the box to the floor.
"It's the New Year—can you just stop for once?"
The moment the words left my mouth, everyone fell silent.
The relatives' expressions shifted; one after another, they began to scold me for being ungrateful, for not knowing how lucky I was.
My husband looked at me, eyes full of shock and hurt.
"I just bought you some pretty clothes. Why are you angry?"
Amid their pointing fingers and his wounded questioning, I rushed into the walk-in closet like I'd lost my mind, dragging out those designer clothes and throwing them all over the floor.
Everyone stared at me, stunned.
No one said another word.
On New Year's Eve in the third year of our marriage, the house was buzzing with life, relatives chatting and laughing.
My husband set a designer gift box with a gilded logo in front of me. The velvet case, tied with an elegant ribbon, looked expensive at a glance.
My heart skipped.
He didn't notice anything unusual.
"Honey, I specially ordered this custom piece for your New Year's gift. You'll look absolutely stunning in it."
As he spoke, he opened the box and lifted out a fitted dress with a cinched waist.
My mother-in-law spoke up, her tone edged with sourness.
"You've really forgotten your mother now that you have a wife. Ever since you married Sheila, she's the only one you see. You even put this much thought into buying her a dress. At this rate, you'll be wrapped around her finger for life."
My husband, Jayden Reese, just smiled indulgently.
"Mom, what are you saying? Sheila is my wife. If I'm not good to her, who should I be good to?"
The relatives chimed in at once, praising Jayden for being considerate, envying me for marrying so well. They said I must have earned this blessing in a past life—to have a husband who spoils me like a princess.
Their noisy chatter made my head throb.
I grabbed the gift box and slammed it onto the table.
With a loud bang, it tipped over.
The room fell noticeably quieter.
I looked up at my husband and asked, "Jayden, what is this supposed to mean?"
The smile on his face froze, then quickly shifted back to that gentle expression.
"Sheila, what's wrong? I just wanted to buy you a nice fitted dress. This custom piece suits you best..."
My second aunt, Camille Sanders, tugged at my arm, joining in.
"That's right, Sheila. Jayden went to so much trouble to have this custom-made. Why are you throwing a tantrum?"
"A tantrum?"
I pointed at the dress, my voice rising sharply as I stared at him.
"Take a good look yourself. Is this my size?"
The dress lay spread out on the floor. The waist was so narrow it could barely circle my arm—there wasn't even room to fit a fist through.
My eldest aunt, Lilian Sanders, frowned.
"Sheila dear, why are you being so picky? What if the size isn't right? It's the thought that counts. Clothes won't always fit perfectly—you can just have it altered."
Camille echoed her, her words laced with reproach.
"Exactly. It's Jayden's sincere effort. Even if it doesn't fit, you shouldn't criticize him like this in front of everyone."
Jayden's eyes reddened further. He reached down, trying to pick up the dress.
"Sheila, I'm sorry. I was too rushed and didn't check the size carefully. I'll go exchange it right away. Please don't be angry, okay?"
I looked at his aggrieved expression and felt nothing but biting irony.
"Rushed? We've been together for years, and you don't even know what size I wear?"
Lilian's voice turned cold as she scolded me.
"Sheila, you're being far too aggressive. Jayden has already lowered himself to apologize. It's just a wrong size—yet you keep harping on it. What kind of behavior is this?"
The other relatives tried to smooth things over.
"Sheila, fitted styles are trending online these days. Maybe the brand intentionally runs small—you can't blame Jayden entirely."
"Exactly. He meant well. Why are you losing your temper without even thinking it through?"
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