“I am so excited to be here! Did you know Lacey had a mastectomy just before she turned eighteen?” Callie exclaims beside me.
Jaylin is on her phone, typing violently, as I glance over at Callie and nod. “I did. Her story is amazing.”
“She lost her mom too, young like us.”
“Yeah, Nico said that when we go to Nashville, we can have dinner with her. We were supposed to have dinner tonight, but she has to fly out. I think one of her kids is sick.”
“Aww! That blows. But cool about Nashville. Can we go there like now? I have so many questions. Plus, it didn’t say online what gene she had, but I wonder if it’s the same one we have.”
“I think they are all the same,” Jaylin says. “Cancer gene, out to kill ya.”
We both nod as the lights dim, and then out of nowhere, the crowd loses its mind. Yup, Nico wouldn’t be able to handle this. I miss him. I notice that Jaylin is still on her phone, so I reach over, pushing it out of her hand. She glares back at me. But she does tuck it in between her legs as Lacey King takes the stage. This isn’t the first time we’ve seen her this conference, but under the stage lights, she looks even better. I’ve seen some beautiful women, but Lacey is stunning. She has long, luscious blond hair and big lashes that I can see from our seats. She wears a black pencil skirt with a pink breast cancer shirt, and when she waves, people are screaming like she’s a Jonas Brother or something.
Soon, I realize why.
I am on the edge of my seat as I listen to her talk. She takes over the room, demanding the attention of everyone in here. I’m in awe of her story, how after watching her mom die, she fought her own cancer and then decided on her mastectomy. She talks of her family, how it was hard to fight cancer without her mom, and how hard it was on her father and brother. In a lot of ways, it validates my reasoning for getting rid of my breasts. I didn’t want to go through what my mom did alone—or put Callie though that.
When Lacey comes to the side of the stage near our seats, I find myself holding my breath. “I met the man of my dreams when I was almost nineteen years old. I fell hard for him. But sometimes, especially as kids, things don’t work out. We were young, he was on the fast track to the NHL, and I was trying to find me again. Yes, we did break up, and he went his way and I went mine. But the good news is we found each other again, and now we are happily married with the most amazing kids in the world.”
The crowd claps loudly, and so do I, watching her in awe.
“There are a lot of moments in my life where my husband has completely blown me away and made me feel like the most perfect woman on this earth, but the moment that still touches me to this day was when we were kids.” A small little grin sits on her face as she presses her hand to her stomach, the mic at her lips. “As we know with mastectomies, they leave nasty scars, and I hadn’t gotten my implants yet because my dad wouldn’t allow me to since I was so young. So, the thought of being intimate with a guy was terrifying. I remember telling Karson about it, and he was confused at first, but when he saw my scars, he treasured them. He didn’t care that they were there, that I didn’t have breasts or anything. He didn’t love my breasts. He loved me, and to this day, I will never question his love because of that moment.”
I’m holding my breath, and soon, I find myself pressing my hands into my chest.
Nico. Nico does that.
“Who here has had a mastectomy? Stand up for me.”
Most of the room stands up, including Jaylin. Callie smacks me, but I hesitate until Jaylin pulls me up beside her. My heart is in my throat, and I feel my skin tingling as Lacey places her mic in the stand.
“Thank you. Now, do you hate your body? Do you resent your scars?”
I notice a lot of women are nodding. Not Jaylin, but most everyone else. I turn back to the stage and zone in on Lacey.
“I know. It’s hard to love something that society says isn’t beautiful.” She moves her hands out in front of her. “As you can see, this room is completely full of women. There are no men here, and I want you to do something with me.”
My jaw drops when she takes off her shirt, throwing it to the ground. She has implants, but even with the beautiful tattoos on her chest, I can see her jagged scars beneath them. “I want you to remove your shirt with me. Then throw that bra to the floor.”