When Negan asked me to marry him, it really threw me off guard. I didn't think I was his type. His other wives were skinny and fit; they looked like they should be walking down a runway. Being a plus size woman, I didn't think I was sexually desirable—to him, or anyone, for that matter.

But Negan showed me how wrong I was.

He was a different person behind closed doors. In front of his men, he openly mocked people for their weight. But when we were alone, he never mentioned it. My size didn't seem to hinder his sexual appetite at all. His hands would explore my curves every time we were together, as if it was the first time. It should have been a huge confident boost.

But even though Negan never said anything about my weight, I was still hard on myself. I had always believed if I found a man who wanted me, I would be vindicated. When I sat in the parlor with the other women, I felt out of place. I wanted to blend in and be like them. I envied how their tight, little dresses clung to their bodies. I wanted to have that little space between my thighs. I wondered if Negan preferred that too.

I hated that I compared myself to others, but I couldn't help it. I had spent so many years doing it, that it became a habit. I dreamed about being thinner. I told myself again and again that someday I would finally feel comfortable in my own skin.

So one night I skipped dinner. I had gone into the cafeteria to get my meal, but I left before I could change my mind. I planned on starting a harsh diet that would guarantee weight loss. I laid awake in bed half the night wincing at the way my stomach growled. I would just eat less, and I'd be even more desirable.

The next day, I skipped breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I felt light headed, but I was determined to stick to my plan. I would eat when the stomach pain was too bad to bare.

That night, I was laying on the couch in the parlor room with the other wives. Some of them were reading, and a few others were playing a board game. Usually I would have joined them, but I had a striking headache. I was laying on my back, hoping to fall asleep when the door opened and Negan strolled in.

All of us looked up to greet him. I rolled over onto my side as I watched him scan the room. Then his eyes went to me.

"Jen."

That was my queue, but I had secretly hoped he would pick another girl. I wasn't feeling very good, but as his wife, I had one job. I'd get it over with and then pass out. It wasn't that I didn't want to be with Negan, I just didn't have the energy to do what we were about to do.

He took my hand into his and led me to his bedroom. I stumbled as I walked with him, but he was so hyper-fixated on getting there that he didn't seem to notice.

Once in his bedroom, Negan brought me over to his loveseat and sat down, pulling me onto his lap. He wasted no time in grabbing my face and kissing me hungrily. I loved the taste of him, and reached up to touch the scruff of his beard. He was just about to slide his tongue in when I heard a loud groan.

I opened my eyes in terror as I realized where the sound was coming from.

My stomach.

Negan's mouth left mine and he chuckled as he nuzzled into my neck.

"Is someone hungry?" he drawled, as he kissed down to my chest and started to slide one of the straps of my dress off. I shook my head and closed my eyes again, relishing in the feeling of his mouth on my skin.

"I'm good," I gasped, as one of his hands touched my bare knee and started to slowly trail up my leg. His mouth moved back up to my face, and he went to kiss my lips again, when my stomach roared for the second time.

Fuck.

He raised an eyebrow at the sound, and a serious expression came over his face. He seemed to be studying me, and I swallowed hard. There was a long silence between us before he finally spoke.

"When was the last time you ate?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"I'm fine, Negan. I can get something to eat after…" I slid my hand through the hair at the back of his head and he pulled away from me.

"Jen, what the fuck is going on with you?"

I felt my cheeks heat up as he stared at me in concern. I silently cursed my traitorous stomach for betraying me and then let out a sigh.

"I haven't eaten in a few days…" I admitted quietly.

"Why?" he asked, and I could hear he was getting annoyed.

I didn't answer him right away and looked over to the wall. I really didn't want to be having this conversation with him. He wouldn't understand.

"I'm trying to lose weight." I answered him slowly. I couldn't look at him.

"Why the hell would you wanna do that?" he demanded. I could feel his eyes on me. I shrugged.

"I wanna look like the other girls. They're all so petite and perfect…" I trailed off expecting him to start chewing me out. When he didn't say anything, I turned to look at him. He had a hard expression on his face, and I couldn't read him.

"I'm sorry. It was stupid to think I'd ever even have a chance to look like that." I smiled a bit, trying to lighten the mood again. I just wanted to get this over with so I could go lay down. My stomach growled again and I winced at the sound.

Negan stared at me for a long time, and then looked over at the door.

"Get up," he ordered.

A sick feeling washed over me at the sound of his cold voice. I had ruined the mood—or rather, my stomach had. My feet hit the floor just as he stood, too. I expected him to tell me to leave, but instead he walked over to the door and left.

I didn't know for sure where he was going, but I assumed it was to go get another wife. He would send me away once he brought someone else to satisfy him, someone whose stomach wasn't going to try and serenade them.

A few minutes later, Negan returned and I stared at the ground, waiting for him to address me. I felt awful—partly because I had disappointed him, and partly because I still felt so damn hungry. I wanted to cry, but bit my quivering lip to try and fight the urge.

The sound of something being set on the desk next to me made my eyes go to where the noise had come from. There was a bowl filled with strawberries, fresh ones by the looks of it. I glanced up at Negan in confusion, and then I noticed the brown bottle in his hand. He was grinning wide at me.

Chocolate sauce?

I watched in silence as he opened the cap from the bottle and poured the syrup over the fruit.

"Sit," he instructed, gesturing back to the loveseat. I took a few steps back and slowly sat down. I felt like I was in a trance as I watched him come over to the loveseat and sit next to me. Leaning over to the table, he picked out a chocolate covered strawberry and carefully brought it in front of my lips.

"Open up," he said in a sultry voice.

I slowly parted my lips and my teeth sunk into the fleshy texture of the strawberry. My senses were immediately engulfed by both the tart sweetness of the fruit, and the sugary flavor of the chocolate. I closed my eyes as the delicious flavor rolled across my tongue.

I swallowed and opened my eyes to find Negan was watching me closely. He had another strawberry in his hand and brought it to my lips. I bit down, expecting to take it into my mouth, when Negan cupped my face and brought his lips to mine. He bit down on the other end of the strawberry and pulled it from my teeth. I giggled as I watched chocolate sauce drip down from his lips and onto his beard. I reached up a finger to wipe it away, and brought it to my lips to suck.

He let out a groan at the sight of my digit against my lips, and before I knew it, he was cupping my face and kissing me hard. My tongue swirled against his; the delicious mix of strawberry and chocolate still heavy on my taste buds.

When he let me go, we gazed into each other's eyes a few moments. Then his hand found mine, and he held it gently in his.

"You don't need to look like the others," he said firmly. "Those curves turn me on more than you could ever know." His other hand went to my side where it trailed down to my waist and he squeezed. The feeling of his fingers made me shiver with want—a reaction that did not go unnoticed by Negan, who smiled a bit before continuing.

"None of my people should be starving, especially not my gorgeous wife."

"I'm sorry, Negan," I whispered, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"No, I'm sorry, babe. I'm sorry I haven't made you feel beautiful. Because you are." He leaned down so our lips met again in a delicate kiss. It was brief, and then his mouth moved to my cheek.

"I don't want a smaller you. I want all of you. Every single delicious part."

I felt my eyes start to water as he said these things to me. I had spent so long thinking I could make myself better by losing weight, but I was already good enough for him.

I needed to start seeing myself the way Negan saw me.

"Thank you," I said as he pressed kisses against my neck. He sat up and smiled at me, and then leaned over to pick up another strawberry. He placed it between his lips, holding it with his teeth and raised his eyebrows up and down at me animatedly. I laughed, and brought my mouth back to his, sharing the strawberry with him. He tugged at it a bit, and then allowed me to pull it into my mouth, chew, and swallow. More chocolate sauce had dripped down his lips, and I leaned up to lick it off, but he caught my mouth with his into another passionate kiss.

When we broke apart, he reached over to take the bowl from the table and he pulled me into his arms against the couch. I curled up against his chest as he fed the strawberries to me and his hands explored my curves.

Nothing had ever tasted so sweet.