Page 25 of With You Forever

“Right. I’ll pull them.” The woman’s eyes widen as she reads Lacey’s file. “Oh! TheKincaidwedding.” She lifts a hand, signaling someone, and gives Lacey a knowing smile. “Please have a seat, Ms. Sutton. We’ll bring out some champagne. My name is Mel, and please let me know if you need anything at all.”

Lacey sits on a plush pink couch. Decadence surrounds her. A white dreamland filled with gauze and iridescent veils and sparkly tiaras and hopes and love and dreams. Lacey wishes she had brought Sal, but her sister’s doing so much for her, she doesn’t want to burden her with anything else.

While she waits, her wedding magazines and planner stacked beside her, Lacey thumbs through her work emails and fires off a text to a potential new client. Normally, she’s off Sundays, but she spent all day notifying her clients about her upcoming surgery and time off and putting the finishing touches on Alabama’s party. And then it’s off to Sal and Luke’s for Sunday supper.

She keeps thinking about how strange it is to be living her normal life, when it’s been anything but. The first days after her diagnosis felt like a fog. But she forced herself through it, and now, she’s running on automatic pilot with her breath held.

Wake. Walk. Work. Repeat. All she can do to focus, to feel normal.

Because she needs to be normal. She needs not to think about how she doesn’t have control. All she has is unknowns and it terrifies her.

The only thing helping her get through it is Seth. His steadying words.

We take it one day at a time. One breath, one heartbeat at a time, okay, princess?

Okay.

“And here we are.” The chirp of a voice has Lacey glancing up.

Mel’s returned, wheeling in a delicate clothing rack. Three dresses hang in bright pink sparkly garment bags. Pre-ceremony. Ceremony. After-party. A shiver of anticipation goes through Lacey at seeing her dresses. While she worked on her dresses with a local designer, nothing will compare to seeing the finished product in lieu of sketches.

God, she can’t wait for Seth to see her in them.

“They came in at the perfect time,” Mel says, unzipping the first bag with careful ease. “You’re about three months out, right?”

“I am. Oh.” Breath catching in her throat, Lacey sets down her champagne and stands.

Mel, seeing her dumbfounded expression, smiles. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Lacey says, staring at her pre-ceremony dress. A blush-colored satin spaghetti-strap slip dress. Slowly, she walks around it, taking it in from every gorgeous angle. With a plunging neckline and thigh-high slit, the gown’s sexy and sultry and—

“Remind me again. Were you planning to go braless?”

Blinking, Lacey looks up. “Excuse me?”

Smiling kindly, Mel gestures at Lacey. “Well, you’re petite and could go without for this dress. But if retaining some of your breasts’ look and shape is important to you,we can bring in our own vendors for a custom fit.”

Oh God.

Lacey’s heart drops into her high heels, any joy she felt at seeing her dresses immediately sideswiped.

She never even thought about her breasts and her bras and her wedding dress. Dr. Mayr had mentioned maybe a small scar or an uneven pit, everything fixable with plastic surgery, but even that wasn’t for sure.

Nothing’s for sure, Lacey thinks.

Not her breasts. Not her future.

Nothing.

In that second, Lacey’s hit with a horrible realization. Every aspect of her life will be touched by cancer. Her loved ones. Her future. Her health. It’ll sneak out of the cracks when she least expects it, but it’ll be there. Ready to wreak havoc on her heart, her happiness.

“We can try these on now, but for future fittings, you’ll need your bras.” Mel gives her a conspiratorial look and turns to unzip the second garment bag. “Now this one is my favorite—”

“I have to go,” Lacey blurts, backing away from the dresses.

“Is something wrong?”

“I’m fine. I just—” Lacey tucks a lock of hair behind her ears, dipping down to grab up her belongings. She blanches, finding a cancer pamphlet stuck between the pages ofThe Knotmagazine, amplifying her already spastic thoughts. She nearly rockets to standing, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “I just remembered I have an appointment. I can’t do this right now.”

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