Lacey
1.
I’ve always been insecure about my body. On my thirteenth birthday, Noah Riley told me my ass was too fat and that I should find someone my size. Then he went and got with Clea Gregory. My heart broke, and I stopped feeling good about my body.
Even though my breasts were a decent size and my tummy was flat, my hips were a little wider and my ass a little bigger than the hips and asses of the girls in my class. I developed quite early and looked more like a woman than a thirteen-year-old girl.
I got stretch marks on my thighs, hips, and boobs. Even though they have faded over time and I have grown into my curves, I’m still not as petite as I would like to be.
I feel insecure about the stretch marks on my ass and that I have to buy tops in a bigger size because my boobs just don’t fit into a size small. Especially because my boyfriend has given me numerous tips about weight loss and stretch mark creams.
Adrian Sterling was charming in the beginning. He was my first boyfriend and my first love. I was so happy with him when we were still in the early dating phase. But after we got together, he turned into someone else. He stopped complimenting me and started looking at me differently. And he started looking at other girls differently. My insecurities took on a whole new level. He would always put the blame on me whenever I got jealous, so I stopped saying something when he looked at other girls or I caught him jerking off to porn.
He told me it’s totally normal for guys to do that. That he’s a real man, and real men look around and get hard for women. He told me I was stupid for being jealous and that I only knew little boys from school who were better at hiding what they were doing. But he was honest and told me to my face what he was thinking about other women. He didn’t need to hide it from me, he wouldn’t cheat. And I believed what he told me.
He was almost eleven years older than me, and my best friend Briana always made fun of me for being in a relationship with someone who was older than me. Well not only older, but because he was a cop and I kind of had a thing for cops. So it’s my kink’s fault, really, that I’m in a relationship with someone who makes me question myself. And who is someone who clearly is in a relationship with his phone.
We’re sitting on the couch together watching a movie, and he has been on it for the last thirty minutes, smiling over god knows what—or god knows who. And I’m cooking like a flaming-hot stew over here, trying to not say something.
We haven’t seen each other in ten days.
We met up at his place after work, and he’s kind of been distant to me since I arrived. Well actually, he’s been distant the last couple of days, probably weeks. We should still be in the damn honeymoon phase. We’ve been together for only nine months. We should be making out right now. I wish we were cuddling so I could at least look over his damn shoulder, but the bastard is sitting on the other side of the sofa.
I look back to the TV and try to distract myself with Captain America. But even Chris Evans in a hot uniform is not doing it for me.
I admire Adrian and his beautiful features. His eyes are blue, and his hair is still gelled back from his shift a few hours ago. His body is lean and muscular. He looks good, especially in uniform, and I know he gets hit on at work. Hell, I kind of hit on him when he was working. Well he was hitting on me at my place of work, but that isn’t the point.
I’m more than fucking sure that the asshole is texting with another girl.
I pull out my phone and text my best friend Bri, who has been begging me to go out with her all day. But I canceled to watch a movie—alone, apparently—while my hot cop boyfriend is on his damn phone.
LAYLAY you’re no fun…
Was her last reply when I told her for the third time today that I’m not coming to party with her. It’s not only that I just wanted to be with Adrian today, but also that he doesn’t like me going out by myself. Especially not with Bri because he hates her guts. I’m definitely not sorry for him because she hates him too. And I didn’t even want to ask him to go out today because of that. Even though my best friend and I haven’t been out together in ages. It has probably been six months, if not more.
I saw Briana getting ready before I left the apartment and now I wish I would’ve just gotten ready alongside her to go party.
I hear a ding and see his face light up at the incoming text. Son of a bitch.
I’m 90% sure he’s texting with another girl.
My phone buzzes a second later.
Ditch him.
I smile, thinking about doing just that, when Adrian speaks up.
“Who are you texting?”
Who am I texting?
“Bri,” I answer, annoyed.
“Why the fuck is she texting you all the time?”
His beautiful features from a few minutes ago have turned ugly and vile. A look I know all too well by now.
“She’s my best friend…” Duh.
“I don’t want you to have whores as friends.”
Bastard!
Now, he has hit a nerve. It’s not the first time he’s called my best friend a whore, we had a big argument about it not long ago.
“Whatever, Adrian,” I say, avoiding the situation to stand up and go to the kitchen to get a snack.
He stands up and follows me. He leans against the kitchen counter and watches me as I pour some salsa in a small bowl. Usually I hate to eat in front of him, I don’t even like to prepare food in his presence because he doesn’t like how my body looks, but right now I’m too riled up to even care.
“I told you more than once that she’s not good for you. She’s whoring around, fucking everyone who comes along.”
I roll my eyes, getting out the nacho chips he loves, which I brought specifically for him, out of the bag with groceries and pour some into a beautiful blue bowl I gifted him for his birthday last month.
“I told you, she’s not. She’s having a great time and is enjoying her youth and doing whatever the hell she pleases.”
His scowl deepens as I throw the plastic in the trash, going across the counter with a wet wipe to get rid of the crumbs that flew to the side.
“Oh so she is enjoying her youth, is that what you want as well?”
I exhale loudly, throwing the dirty wipe into the trash, and turn back around to face him.
“No it’s not. I’m here with you, am I not?”
I dip a chip in salsa and stuff it in my mouth. Not even wanting to be in this damn situation right now.
His expression turns meaner. “You sure you want to eat that right now?”
Ouch.
I swallow the chip and push the bowl aside. I hate when he does that. When he says these things. It’s like a knife that has been stuck in my body forever. And he is holding the handle, twisting it again, making me bleed, over and over.
“Please don’t, Adrian,” I force out, looking away from him.
He pushes away from the counter coming over to me like a tiger that is about to strike, and I’m over here about to bawl. I don’t know why he is so mean, why he doesn’t love me, like I do him.
“Your arms look chubbier than usual, you’ve gained weight. Again.”
I touch my arms that are completely naked in my black, spaghetti-strap cami shirt. I felt sexy when I put it on. I’m not wearing a bra underneath and it even shows a little of my tummy. To finish it off, I’m wearing high-waisted jeans that ride high just below my belly button. I felt cute and good about myself before I left the house to come see him. Then he says something like that, making me think I have a false sense of my appearance. Before I cry, I lash out at him, letting my anger get the best of me.
“Oh my, thank you, Adrian. So now tell me please. Are you texting someone? Huh? Because you have been on your phone all night. I bet she is thinner than me. Or do you tell her she’s fat too?”He turns hateful and comes even closer. He opens his phone and shows me a beautiful, skinny blonde with huge—clearly fake—tits.
“Look at that Lacey. That is how a woman should look. She is gorgeous, has amazing tits, and I bet you she’s not eating fucking snacks or pasta all the damn time. Eat a fucking salad for once in your life, you fat ass!”
A tear slips down my face, and I taste its saltiness before I move. I push him away.
“You bastard. I knew it. So you’re cheating on me?”He smiles like a rat before he raises his hand. I feel a sharp pain a second later and I gasp, holding my face. He slapped me across my face.
“Don’t fucking talk to me like that!” he spits.
He grabs my arm and hauls me against the fridge, holding me with such a tight grip, I’m about to cry even harder. The pain echoes in my cheek, and my arm feels as if it’s about to be ripped out of the socket.
“Adrian, stop! You’re hurting me!”
“Listen up, I told you I’m not fucking cheating, OK! Stop being a jealous bitch! Maybe put out more, so I won’t have to look at other girls’ tits all the time!” he growls.
He lets go of me, pushing me against the fridge harder, the jars on top of it clinking together with the force.
Adrian grabs his phone and starts to type on it as he sits his ass back down on the couch as if nothing happened.
I am frozen in place, my hand on the cheek he slapped. I look down to my arm and see a purple bruise forming. I shake with fear. He’s never slapped me before. He has always had a mean streak, but he has never hit me. He has never even gripped me this hard. And I’m shook.
Put out more?I fucking hate sleeping with him because he always complains about my body or sexual skills, even though he was the one to take my virginity. And I try out different things, but I somehow never get them right for him. Fuck him… He shouldn’t talk to me like that and especially shouldn’t hit me.
I take a deep breath and wipe the mascara under my eyes. I take my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans and text Briana.
Text me the address!
When I turn around to the fridge, I see that ugly photo of him on a fucking boat in the everglades, a blond guy I have never seen sits beside him. And I get even more frustrated. I don’t even know any of his friends, yet he is giving me a hard time about mine. I’m angry now, shocked and fucking angry.
So I grab my purse from the kitchen island and go to the door, pulling on my leather jacket. When I pull out my long brown hair out from underneath it, Adrian speaks up again.
“Don’t come back until you have a proper apology. I don’t know why you always have to pick fucking fights, I’m so sick of this shit with you. Keep your fucking jealousy in check!”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, pick up my bag from the floor, and leave his apartment just in time for my phone to light up with an incoming text from Bri. Thank fucking god.