The tight blazer alone, buttoned over bare breasts...

Emily ran her tongue across her teeth, staring at her reflection with a dull mix of dread and resignation. The navy sport coat hung off her shoulders awkwardly, a little too narrow in the arms and unmistakably tight across the chest. She inhaled deeply, pulled the fabric closed, and fastened the single button.

It held. Just barely.

Her breasts shifted high and tight beneath the inner lining, the cut of the blazer forcing them upward into a pushed-together swell of soft, unsupported cleavage. The one button sat just beneath the fullest part of her chest, stretched taut. There was no hiding the shape. Her nipples pressed lightly against the inside of the lining—unobstructed now, no bra between them and the rougher texture of the fabric.

She winced.

Every breath made the blazer shift subtly over them. The friction wasn’t intense, but her skin was still so sensitive from nursing, and the way the lining brushed her with every movement made her teeth grit.

She tried pulling the lapels higher, tugging the fabric down, adjusting—nothing helped. The blazer fit… technically. But it wasn’t meant to be worn like this. Especially not on her newly reshaped body. The way it hugged her curves felt obscene.

Still, it was the only choice that didn’t leave her see-through, fluorescent, or dripping.

She ran her hands down her sides, then froze as the motion dragged the blazer over her nipples again. A shiver traced her spine. It was too much. Too obvious.

Too late.

Buzz.

1:26pm – Meeting with Martin in 4 minutes.

Emily exhaled through her nose. Checked herself once more in the mirror. One last deep breath.

The blazer tugged slightly at the strain point. Her breasts jostled. The inner fabric kissed her nipple tips.

She didn’t have time to overthink it anymore.

She grabbed her phone. Slipped her heels back on. And headed down the hall—buttoned up, bare beneath, and more aware of her body than she had been in months.