Part 54: Happily Ever After-1

April 2012 When Lucy got engaged, it was nothing like the Disney cartoons. All her life, she'd dreamed of finding the perfect man. She knew from the cartoons that there would be problems and obstacles, but if Disney had taught her anything it was that after they worked through all of them, she and her prince would overcome everything and live happily ever after. She fantasized about her perfect wedding since she was 13 years old; it was all she ever wanted. She had Pinterest boards for gowns, shoes, flowers; even nail polish colours. And now, she was finally closing in on her goal. "Trent," she called, hesitantly. They were at the rooftop bar of their hotel in Ibiza; it was very late. She was exhausted, but he was still wired from the ecstasy and wanted to party. "Come here, I want to talk to you," she called, a bit louder. He barely glanced in her direction, too busy chatting with the impossibly slim bartender with the fake tan and faker smile. The leggy blonde said something funny; he threw his head back and laughed. Part of her wanted to go over there and smash him in the face; the bartender too. Patience, she reminded herself. He loved her and he would come around, she told herself. "Trent!" She yelled louder now, embarrassed when the last few partiers looked her way with a combination of curiosity and pity. As usual, she was the biggest person there. Every time she walked into the room, she took stock of the women, trying to gauge how she measured up. If it was a good day, she'd see someone bigger than she was. But that was back in Toronto. On their vacation in Ibiza, everyone was model-thin and gorgeous. She envied the other girls, with their hip bones jutting out of their bikini bottoms; their thigh gap. It must be so great to wear a bikini. It was something she would never allow herself to do. Trent finally tired of talking to the blonde and wandered back over to her. He collapsed in the lounge chair next to her. "Trent, don't you think it's time we got married?" She had been hinting all throughout the trip. She wanted to come back from their vacation engaged. Lucy had already hinted to all of her friends that it was going to happen. And she believed that deep down, Trent wanted it too. She'd just have to nudge him along. "Sure," he shrugged. "If you can lose 30 pounds." He actually had the nerve to wink at her, and smile. "It'll be good motivation." His words hit her like a slap. Prince Charming would never have told Cinderella something like that. Then again, Cinderella was super teeny, with that little waist, slim legs and delicate little feet. Lonely and mistreated, at least the fictional character had a banging body. Oh God, I'm losing it, she thought. Trent was her partner; he was supposed to love and cherish her no matter what she weighed. Part of her wanted to ignore the comment and focus on the outcome. She was going to marry Trent; she'd got what she'd been hoping for. But the tiny bit of self-respect buried inside told her to stand up for herself; tell him how humiliated she felt when he made comments about her weight. So, she wasn't model-thin, was that such a crime? Was it an impossible dream that a man should truly love her, the real Lucy, just as she was? She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. There was no point in bringing it up. Trent had turned his back on her and was already snoring. September 2018 Lucy let the conditioning mask sink into her hair while she soaped up with the rich, fragrant lavender and mint soap. On the day she was marrying the love of her life, things should have been perfect and for the most part, they were. But her exhilaration was tempered with sadness. Lucy's therapist, Garrett, said she'd be emotional on her wedding day and acutely feeling the loss of not having her parents there. He challenged her to accept and acknowledge the feelings instead of suppressing them. So, she let the tears fall freely in the shower. She cried for her father, too broken and damaged to make it past his mid-sixties; a life shortened by the terrible choices he made. Her mom was thankfully still alive, but so mired in her own pain she couldn't even be bothered coming back to Port Ross for Lucy's wedding. That really hurt. But as Garrett said, her mother was on her own journey and probably hadn't faced up to a lot of the things that Lucy herself had dealt with. Her mother was a very damaged person. Lucy knew that and was sympathetic, even though she couldn't help but feel orphaned on what was supposed to be the best day of her life. So, she had her little cry in the shower and let all the hurt feelings out. She emerged flush from the moist heat; her hair twisted up in a towel. "Oof," she muttered, taking in her puffy eyes in the mirror. Shana was coming to the house to do her hair and makeup, and she hoped she had some industrial strength concealer in her magic makeup bag. On the other hand, so what? She was missing her parents and cried on her wedding day. There was no need to hide it. She wanted her makeup like she wanted her hair, her dress and everything else on her big day: soft and natural. The day was to be hassle-free; she designed it carefully so that she and Quinn would feel as little stress as possible, and just focus on enjoying their friends, family and each other. She was already packed and ready for Italy; mostly sundresses and bikinis. Hell, she might even go topless if the situation presented itself. She felt giddy with excitement. On a whim, she got up from the table and checked her purse. There it was, the little card from her present in New York, the one Quinn bought for her with such care: You deserve something real — xx, Q, When she twisted her ankle in New York and she fell, it was the little card she focused on saving, not the Prada. She realized in that moment that she made the right choice, as she tucked it into her flower arrangement. "What's it like to get married?" she'd asked Quinn the night before, feeling a tiny gut punch that he had already had the experience before with Abigail. "It's a love bomb," he said casually as they lay in bed. "Oh," she said, nodding sadly. "Because you loved Abigail so much." Picking up on her mood as he always did, he lifted her face to his for a tender kiss. "Because you look out and see all your friends and family there, just for you. They come from all over the place to share in your big day, and they get dressed up all spiffy. And they spend the day love- bombing you. It's very touching." She smiled then and laid her head back on his chest. He threaded his fingers through her hair. "After tomorrow, you'll be my wife," Quinn said proudly. "I love how that sounds. I'm going to be saying it all the time, even when no one asked me. 'My wife and I went to the movies.' 'I have to pick up my wife later.' 'My wife is more beautiful than your wife." She smiled against his bare chest. "You had better not say that to anyone." "Why not? It's true," he said, holding her closer. "I love you so much, Lucy. And I can't wait to marry you tomorrow."