Page 52 of Intertwined Souls

Stepping out of the fitting room, I turn, giving Lex my back and facing the large mirror. I watch through the mirror as her eyes scan over my back, but she keeps her face carefully blank before meeting my eyes through the mirror and grinning.

Lex beams at me. “Harley, this dress is beautiful and perfect for you. The guys won’t even know what to say.”

“I do really love it. I feel—” Don’t think about the scars. “I feel beautiful.”

“You are.” We smile at each other through the mirror as she steps up next to me. “We look hot, if I do say so myself.”

I chuckle and glance at her outfit. “That really is perfect for you.”

Heels clack softly on the wood floors as the blonde rounds the corner and comes to a stop at the entrance of the hall. Lex spins around to face her. “I think we’ve both decided on what we’re getting,” she beams.

Looking over the dress one more time, a small smile forms on my lips because I truly feel normal and beautiful right now.

But when my eyes lift, it’s to see the employee staring at me, her lips curling. “Did you want me to find other options for your friend? So she’s more covered up?”

Sucking in a breath, I prepare myself to just ignore her. I already know how ugly and awful my scars are, and I don’t need her to remind me. I just need to ignore—

“Excuse me?” Lex snaps at her. “What the fuck does that mean?”

A shiver runs down my spine at the dark tone Lex’s voice takes on. I spin around, not feeling comfortable giving her my back anymore when she clearly has a problem with my scars.

The blonde has kept a serious yet professional face this entire time even though it was clear she has not been my biggest fan since we walked in the store. But now the mask drops, and she stares at me with disgust. “No one is going to want to see her back. Showing it off is just begging for sympathy from people when all it’s really going to do is disgust them,” she spits.

My mind swirls with all the thoughts I’ve been fighting off since I put on this dress, trying to remind myself of what Lex said. I take a few deep breaths, preparing to tell the lady off calmly and then leave, but Lex has other ideas.

Storming up to her, she jabs a finger in her chest. “You shut the hell up. What the fuck is wrong with you to speak to someone like that? Better yet, you work here! You shouldn’t ever treat a customer like that. People come to buy clothes to make them feel good and beautiful, but that’s not going to happen with your jealous ass here.”

The blonde scoffs and opens her mouth, but she’s cut off by Axe’s voice booming behind her as he and Presley walk up to us. “What’s going on back here?”

Lex glances back at me, clearly allowing me to decide what to tell them. Locking eyes with Axe, I explain, “My back. I—my back is covered in scars, and she saw them and told us that I shouldn’t wear something that shows them off.”

His eyes soften on me before he turns toward her with a glare. Presley is instantly in front of Axe, facing off with the woman, her face showing more fury than I have ever seen from the sweet woman that she is.

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you. Because you have decided to tear someone down instead of making them feel on top of the world, you’ve lost your job, and I can bet you will struggle to find one anywhere else around here, too,” she says in a calm, soft voice, her eyes ice-cold.

Scoffing, the blonde says, “You can’t fire me.”

Axe chuckles darkly. “Are you forgetting who owns this town? Who controls everything around here?” He raises a brow.

The lady really takes everything in, glancing between us before her eyes land on Axe. Specifically, his leather jacket. Her eyes widen, and her face pales. “I was only trying to help her,” she stumbles over her words.

“Help? Help with fucking what?” Presley growls. “Making her feel insecure in her own skin so you can feel better about yourself? It’s pathetic.”

Axe wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her back towards him. “Alright, mama bear, go help the girls. Looks like the others are back; we will deal with this.” He drops a kiss on the top of her head before letting go and leading the blonde towards the front of the store.

Presley immediately walks up to me and grasps my cheeks in her tiny palms, shocking me slightly, but I don’t flinch. “You are stunning. And this dress? This dress was made for you, sweetie.”

Tears gather in the corners of my eyes, but I don’t fight them off. I let them drip down my cheeks. “I'll meet you up front,” Lex says softly before walking away.

Presley's kind, understanding, motherly gaze breaks down my walls. “Sometimes it feels like there will always be something in me that is vulnerable and weak. Seeing the scars, being reminded of them, it just makes it worse,” I murmur.

Taking my hand, Presley pulls me back into the fitting room and shuts the door. Lifting her shirt, she runs her fingers over three different scars covering her lower abdomen that are each a few inches long.

“Do these make me weak?” she asks softly. “Do they make me vulnerable? If I wear a bikini out in public, am I making myself vulnerable?”

Shaking my head, my eyes harden slightly. “No. Never.”

She smiles sadly at me. “We all have scars, Harley. In one way or another. Some may be inside of us. And others may show on our skin. But neither of them make us anything but strong. Do these scars burn with memories I would rather not remember? Of course. But they also serve as my reminder that I survived.”

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