My Mutilated Body Stole My Fiancé's Love
Language: en
The day I was discharged after my mastectomy, my boyfriend proposed to me in front of all the doctors and nurses. He held open a gift box. Inside was the low-cut wedding gown I had dreamed about for three years. The crowd cheered, urging me to say yes. Only my best friend, Chloe, chuckled behind her hand. "Carter, did you forget she isn't really a woman anymore? She doesn't have breasts." "A low-cut dress won't hide that hideous, bowl-sized scar on her chest." The color drained from my face. A wave of suffocating humiliation slammed into me, leaving me barely able to stand. Carter pulled…