Siobhan let out a breath, realizing the weight of everything she had said. It was relieving and horrifying in tandem, but Higgs reacted with understanding and that made her feel better. "No," she said, shaking her head. "You don't have to apologize. Max can be frustrating, I'm sure. I had already had a stressful day at work and I think that everything was just worrying me that evening. When I get overwhelmed, my issues with food seem to be heightened," she explained.
His eagerness to help with the dinners by adjusting or not having them at all had her features softening considerably. "I wouldn't want to stop having dinners with you," she told him. "I enjoy our time together. I enjoy the dinners. It's a bit more difficult when the meals are heavy," she said. "My brain starts counting calories and going over the weight of the food and how much is going to be sticking to my skin, how my weight is going to fluctuate and then topple over the scale," she sighed. "It's exhausting," she admitted. "Because it never quite goes away. It's like a voice in the back of my brain, poking me and telling me that I'm this massive cow ready to be put out to pasture." She knew, in many ways, that she wasn't that person that her brain kept telling her she was, but it was difficult to silence the voices entirely.
"Lighter meals are easier for me," she said. "I enjoy salads or lean meats. I'm partial to fish and chicken more so than red meat. Vegetables are usually great. It's not that your meal was bad, I don't want you to think that. It was much more a me problem than a you one, I assure you. It's just one of those things that is difficult to open up with. No one wants to be seen as damaged goods."