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staring at her closet
for the last ten minutes unsure. She didn’t have anything sexy to wear,
anything with cleavage, or clothes that showed too much skin. Greg had made her
get rid of anything that he’d thought too provocative. Not for the first time
Sammy wished she could kill him for what he’d done to her.
    Not only had Greg beaten her, made her uncomfortable
with herself and how she looked and acted, but he’d gotten ridden most of her
clothes. He told her all the time, “Women your size shouldn’t wear what you’re
wearing.   No one wants to know how big
your gut is or how large your breasts and arse are.”
    Before Greg, she’d been a clothes hoarder. She was a
huge op-shopper. She loved her curves, and she knew how to flaunt them to her
best advantage. Her mother had always told her that most men liked women with a
bit of meat on them, women with curves. Women with good child-bearing
hips. She would always tell Sammy to never change for anyone. To always
be herself , and that if anyone didn’t like that then
they weren’t worth it. They weren’t the right people for her to even bother
with.
    God, Sammy wished she’d listened to her mother’s
advice when Greg came along.   The last
couple of months she’d convinced herself that she hadn’t listened because she
was angry with her mother dying on her. She was angry at her mother for leaving
her alone in the world. Angry because she would never be at her wedding, or be
there when Sammy got pregnant, see her first grandchild and so on.
    Sammy could admit that she was pissed at her mum. If
her mother had been alive she wouldn’t have met Greg. She would never have been
with him. She would never be staring now at an almost empty closet.   Sammy knew she was being selfish blaming her
mum, but she was still mad at her, at the world for the cards she’d been dealt.
    Grabbing her black pants and her long sleeved plain
pink top, she shoved them on and went to her bag, got out her mobile and called
Slater. He answered on the second ring.
    “Hey, beautiful, you’re not ringing to cancel?”
    “Maybe. It
depends on you and Brock. I need clothes. I have decided that I’m not going to
go another day without clothes that I like. No one gets to tell me what I can
wear and what I can’t. I’m even going to treat myself to new clothes and not
op-shop ones. You and Brock may come with me, or you can see me tomorrow. It’s
up to you.”
    Sammy slipped into her shoes and grabbed some
hair-ties for her hair. She felt better already knowing that she would treat
herself and go shopping.
    “Of course we’ll go with you. Are you driving, or do
you need me to come and pick you up?”
    Sammy only had her learner’s permit. She’d meant to
go and have lessons, but when her mum got sick she put everything on hold. She
caught the bus to work, and any spare money she had went on her mother to help
her stay comfortable and to have the better brand of medicine and so on. Her
mother had wanted to go get a loan on the house, but Sammy wouldn’t let her.
Her mother had looked after her all her life, and
Sammy felt she could do it for her mother for the time she had left.
    “I can catch a bus. I don’t drive. I’m only on my
learner’s.”
    “I can come and pick you up now. I’d also be happy
to help teach you to drive. We’ll pick a time, and I’ll clear it. I know you
need hours built up to go for your P’s.”
    “If you’re okay with me dragging you around clothes
shopping then by all means come and pick me up.”
    “As long as I get to spend time with you I’m happy
to do anything.”
    Sammy rolled her eyes. She highly doubted Slater
meant what he said, and after going shopping with her today he might regret
saying it. “Sure. See you when you get here.”
    “I’ll be at your place in fifteen, twenty minutes.”
    Sammy hung up and finished getting ready. She
brushed her hair again and did her teeth, put lip gloss on. It was the only
makeup Greg had let her