She stood alone in the bathroom, staring at her reflection in the cracked full length mirror. She frowned for a moment, her long dark hair was in tangles down her back, and her lack of make-up made her face look pale and dull. Then she looked passed that and focused on the rest of her body. She'd put on some weight. She was still a size 2, but no longer looked like a walking skeleton, like she had almost a year ago. The dark purple bruises where she used to jam the needles into her veins had faded. They left brownish yellow blotches against her skin, serving as reminders of the life she had left behind. It pained her to look, to remember, but she couldn't look away. She stood fixated on the image in the glass for several minutes overcome with guilt and shame.
"Meems?" He called, probably from their bedroom, the door over. She couldn't bring herself to respond. "Meems?" Roger called again, this time he appeared in the doorway. When he saw her standing there he moved towards her. He stood behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and stared into the glass with her for a moment. Then he looked away and gently kissed her cheek. "You're beautiful, Mimi," he whispered.
She still couldn't bring herself to look up. He then took one of her arms and rubbed it, messaging over the scars and fading track marks. "And strong," he added, pressing his lips to her wrist.
This time she looked at him, failing as she attempted to suppress a smile. "And…" he started. She interrupted him, pressing her lips to his. They broke apart still holding on to each other. "I love you," they both uttered in unison. Then Mimi and Roger shared another small, lovely, kiss.