Placing her hands on her lace-covered hips, Lacey said, “That was before you put me in a stark-white lace bra and undies and told me to smile. You can see everything through this lace.”
Matching Lacey’s stance, Rachel glared. “That’s the point of our lingerie, but Phil is going to Photoshop our naughty bits out.”
“I don’t have naughty bits. I have tattoos and that’s it. Oh wait, I have a vagina. I don’t know if I feel comfortable with this,” she snapped.
She knew that she was being a bitch, even that she was being completely out of line since she did love this idea, but she was on edge and didn’t know how to bottle up the emotions that were coursing through her. Rachel looked at her for a second and then came toward her, pulling her away from the group of women and the photographer and into the bathroom.
Shutting the door, she placed her hands on her hips and asked, “What the hell is going on?”
“Nothing,” she lied, looking away as she fidgeted with the bandage on her arm from this morning's bloodwork at her annual checkup.
“Don’t lie to me. I have been your best friend for ten years, Lacey. I know when you are lying. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Letting out a breath, she didn’t lie this time, but still only said part of the truth. “I just don’t feel sexy.”
Rachel’s eyes softened as she took ahold of Lacey’s hand. “How? You are gorgeous, Lacey. Look,” she said, turning her to the mirror.
Lacey looked at her reflection and again grimaced at what she saw. Yeah, she thought she was pretty. She had round, pale green eyes, framed by dark lashes, that were done up with dramatic, smoky black eye shadow, making her green eyes brighter. Her long blond hair that usually curled only at the ends was in big, full curls and pinned back at the top. She even thought her nose and dark red lips were cute, but as soon as her eyes drifted down to where her fake breasts were, she fought back the tears.
After finding out that her breast cancer was very aggressive at the age of seventeen, she was soon in surgery getting a double mastectomy. She was scared out of her mind, and doing it without her mom made everything ten times worse. Her mom had lost her battle with breast cancer when Lacey was seven; that’s why they opted for the double mastectomy so early. They wanted to save Lacey, and she understood that, but that hadn’t mean she wasn’t terrified. Her father was very adamant about it, saying he couldn’t lose her too, and she didn’t want to die, so she did what was suggested.
She knew she wanted to get the fake breasts after the surgery, but when her father informed her that they didn’t have the money for them, her confidence was broken. Hell, all of her was broken. She wasn’t Lacey anymore; she didn’t even know herself. She spent most of her time hiding and completely shut off from everyone, especially her brother and father. She was mad that her mother wasn’t there, that she had to lose her breasts to cancer, and that no one understood how it felt not to have all the pieces that all the girls in school had. She felt like the world was over for her.
When she graduated from high school though, she decided that she couldn’t dwell on not having her boobs. She was alive, she had another chance at life, and she was wasting it by crying over not having boobs. It was such a self-centered thing to do. Her mother wouldn’t want her to do this, and she was disgusted with herself. She then decided that it was time to start over, to be Lacey again. So that’s what she did. She went to college, she lived life to the fullest, and even though she went through the greatest heartbreak of her life, she trudged on and didn’t regret anything.
That was until she got involved with Ethan Stanford.
She should have known from the beginning that Ethan was going to be a problem. She met him at the grand opening of Lacey’s Lace. He was her age, twenty-three, played hockey for the Blackhawks, and at the time was good friends with Grady. He was handsome and charming and somehow pinned her down for a date, something that no one had been able to do in years. She blamed it on the Merlot, but he said it was because they were made for each other. She wasn’t sure about that, but everyone thought he was perfect for Lacey, so she figured she’d give it a try. She went on the first date, and to her surprise, it was great; Ethan was amazing and treated her the way she deserved to be treated. It had been so long since someone had romanced her, and she liked the way he made her feel.
Like she was special.
Her father loved him, Grady was happy, but something didn’t seem right. She wasn’t one hundred percent committed to him, and she knew it was because her heart still belonged to someone else. She didn’t want him to have her heart, though. He left her. He didn’t want her, so why was she still all caught up on him? He probably didn’t even give her a second thought, so she made herself fall for Ethan, which was the biggest mistake of her life.
Especially when she slept with him for the first time.
Ethan was horrified when she took her shirt and bra off. He didn’t tell her that he was repulsed, but she could see it on his face, and she was beyond embarrassed. She felt like she did when she was younger; she felt disgusting. He apologized, said the scars surprised him, and for some dumbass reason, she believed him. When he suggested that she get breast implants, she agreed because she knew that was the only way she was going to be able to keep him.
She needed to keep Ethan.
She had to forget him.
She had to move on.
So she had the surgery, and she actually felt pretty, or so she told herself. She actually convinced herself that she was in love with him, and when Ethan proposed, she said yes. Her dad and brother were ecstatic, overjoyed that she was “happy” again. They planned on a wedding in the summer since Chicago was so beautiful around that time, and she had always wanted to be a June bride. Her mother had been a June bride; it was meant to be, or at least that’s what she told herself. She had to tell herself a lot of things back then, not only that she loved Ethan, but that she loved the idea of living in the suburbs, that she loved going to the country club for lunch with his parents, or that she loved being prim and proper at every moment because he liked her to look good all the time. That she loved the way she looked with fake, weird looking nipples, and that she loved being a C cup instead of the B she was when she was younger. It was her life, a life she needed instead of being locked away, crying over someone who didn’t want her. It was what she was meant to do; all she needed was Ethan…that was until she found him having sex with the cashier in the bathroom of Lacey’s Lace the week before their wedding.
Matching Lacey’s stance, Rachel glared. “That’s the point of our lingerie, but Phil is going to Photoshop our naughty bits out.”
“I don’t have naughty bits. I have tattoos and that’s it. Oh wait, I have a vagina. I don’t know if I feel comfortable with this,” she snapped.
She knew that she was being a bitch, even that she was being completely out of line since she did love this idea, but she was on edge and didn’t know how to bottle up the emotions that were coursing through her. Rachel looked at her for a second and then came toward her, pulling her away from the group of women and the photographer and into the bathroom.
Shutting the door, she placed her hands on her hips and asked, “What the hell is going on?”
“Nothing,” she lied, looking away as she fidgeted with the bandage on her arm from this morning's bloodwork at her annual checkup.
“Don’t lie to me. I have been your best friend for ten years, Lacey. I know when you are lying. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Letting out a breath, she didn’t lie this time, but still only said part of the truth. “I just don’t feel sexy.”
Rachel’s eyes softened as she took ahold of Lacey’s hand. “How? You are gorgeous, Lacey. Look,” she said, turning her to the mirror.
Lacey looked at her reflection and again grimaced at what she saw. Yeah, she thought she was pretty. She had round, pale green eyes, framed by dark lashes, that were done up with dramatic, smoky black eye shadow, making her green eyes brighter. Her long blond hair that usually curled only at the ends was in big, full curls and pinned back at the top. She even thought her nose and dark red lips were cute, but as soon as her eyes drifted down to where her fake breasts were, she fought back the tears.
After finding out that her breast cancer was very aggressive at the age of seventeen, she was soon in surgery getting a double mastectomy. She was scared out of her mind, and doing it without her mom made everything ten times worse. Her mom had lost her battle with breast cancer when Lacey was seven; that’s why they opted for the double mastectomy so early. They wanted to save Lacey, and she understood that, but that hadn’t mean she wasn’t terrified. Her father was very adamant about it, saying he couldn’t lose her too, and she didn’t want to die, so she did what was suggested.
She knew she wanted to get the fake breasts after the surgery, but when her father informed her that they didn’t have the money for them, her confidence was broken. Hell, all of her was broken. She wasn’t Lacey anymore; she didn’t even know herself. She spent most of her time hiding and completely shut off from everyone, especially her brother and father. She was mad that her mother wasn’t there, that she had to lose her breasts to cancer, and that no one understood how it felt not to have all the pieces that all the girls in school had. She felt like the world was over for her.
When she graduated from high school though, she decided that she couldn’t dwell on not having her boobs. She was alive, she had another chance at life, and she was wasting it by crying over not having boobs. It was such a self-centered thing to do. Her mother wouldn’t want her to do this, and she was disgusted with herself. She then decided that it was time to start over, to be Lacey again. So that’s what she did. She went to college, she lived life to the fullest, and even though she went through the greatest heartbreak of her life, she trudged on and didn’t regret anything.
That was until she got involved with Ethan Stanford.
She should have known from the beginning that Ethan was going to be a problem. She met him at the grand opening of Lacey’s Lace. He was her age, twenty-three, played hockey for the Blackhawks, and at the time was good friends with Grady. He was handsome and charming and somehow pinned her down for a date, something that no one had been able to do in years. She blamed it on the Merlot, but he said it was because they were made for each other. She wasn’t sure about that, but everyone thought he was perfect for Lacey, so she figured she’d give it a try. She went on the first date, and to her surprise, it was great; Ethan was amazing and treated her the way she deserved to be treated. It had been so long since someone had romanced her, and she liked the way he made her feel.
Like she was special.
Her father loved him, Grady was happy, but something didn’t seem right. She wasn’t one hundred percent committed to him, and she knew it was because her heart still belonged to someone else. She didn’t want him to have her heart, though. He left her. He didn’t want her, so why was she still all caught up on him? He probably didn’t even give her a second thought, so she made herself fall for Ethan, which was the biggest mistake of her life.
Especially when she slept with him for the first time.
Ethan was horrified when she took her shirt and bra off. He didn’t tell her that he was repulsed, but she could see it on his face, and she was beyond embarrassed. She felt like she did when she was younger; she felt disgusting. He apologized, said the scars surprised him, and for some dumbass reason, she believed him. When he suggested that she get breast implants, she agreed because she knew that was the only way she was going to be able to keep him.
She needed to keep Ethan.
She had to forget him.
She had to move on.
So she had the surgery, and she actually felt pretty, or so she told herself. She actually convinced herself that she was in love with him, and when Ethan proposed, she said yes. Her dad and brother were ecstatic, overjoyed that she was “happy” again. They planned on a wedding in the summer since Chicago was so beautiful around that time, and she had always wanted to be a June bride. Her mother had been a June bride; it was meant to be, or at least that’s what she told herself. She had to tell herself a lot of things back then, not only that she loved Ethan, but that she loved the idea of living in the suburbs, that she loved going to the country club for lunch with his parents, or that she loved being prim and proper at every moment because he liked her to look good all the time. That she loved the way she looked with fake, weird looking nipples, and that she loved being a C cup instead of the B she was when she was younger. It was her life, a life she needed instead of being locked away, crying over someone who didn’t want her. It was what she was meant to do; all she needed was Ethan…that was until she found him having sex with the cashier in the bathroom of Lacey’s Lace the week before their wedding.
