Love to Hate You (Hope Valley #9) - Jessica Prince

Prologue

Hayden

Standing in the middle of the expensive, luxurious boutique in downtown Richmond, surrounded by lace and silk and satin in every color, I felt completely and utterly ridiculous. I couldn’t believe it had come to this, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and I was nothing if not painfully desperate.

“Hi. Can I help you?”

I looked up from the garment rack, the hangers holding tiny scraps of material that would barely cover my hand let alone other parts of my body. The sales clerk was a tall, svelte, modelesque blonde dressed in all black—from her sky-high heels and tight pencil skirt to her sheer silk blouse and the lacy bra beneath.

I’d never felt so frumpy in my life. I was suddenly blindingly aware that my body wasn’t what it used to be back before pregnancy and childbirth changed it. I hadn’t been one of those women who barely gained weight and only looked pregnant when they turned to the side. Everything from my toes to my nostrils had swelled. I’d gained more than fifty pounds while I was pregnant, and I had the stretchmarks on my stomach and breasts—even my hips—to prove it.

I lost a lot of the baby weight, but not all, and I was no longer the slim, straight size four I’d once been. My body had permanently changed. I now had an hourglass figure. My hips were wider, my butt and chest bigger. There was no longer a gap between my thighs, and the skin around my middle was looser than it had once been.

I hadn’t thought I looked bad at all, just . . . more womanly. I thought Alex would like the changes to my body, especially considering those changes came from bringing our daughter into the world. But as time passed, his interest in me seemed to be dwindling.

I could feel the distance growing between us with every passing day, and I knew I was partly to blame for it. Ivy was four now, but I’d wanted her for so long that, once she arrived, she’d become all I could see.

I’d dreamed my whole life of being a mother, and after years of trying and failing on our own and with medical assistance, one heartbreaking miscarriage after another, we’d finally gotten our miracle baby. Nothing mattered to me but her wellbeing, and as the years passed, I started to neglect other aspects of my life. Especially my husband.

But that was all going to change.

When I woke up this morning, I’d rolled over to find Alex’s side of the bed already empty and the sheets cold. That was becoming our norm. He got up early, did his thing, and left for work without so much as a note or text.

Used to be, when things were good between us, he couldn’t bring himself to leave for the day without waking me up for a goodbye kiss. Nine times out of ten, that led to hard, fast, dirty sex that left us both breathless and smiling before he inevitably forced himself to break away from me so he could head to work.

I couldn’t remember the last time we’d had a day start off like that, and this morning I woke up missing it terribly. I also woke up with a fire in my belly, determined to get us back to where we used to be.

Hence the babysitter for my daughter and the high-end lingerie store for me.

I’d gotten up and actually took the time to put some care into my appearance. None of my clothes from before Ivy really fit anymore, and Alex was always making off-handed comments about me waiting until I was back to my pre-baby weight before buying anything new, so I had extremely limited wardrobe choices, but did my best. And I thought I’d made it work . . . until Runway Barbie showed up.

Now I was uncomfortably aware that my jeans looked—and felt—glued to my skin, and that I was currently holding them closed with a ponytail holder since I could no longer get the button anywhere near the stupid buttonhole.

“Oh, uh . . . I’m looking for something,” I started lamely. “A surprise for my husband.”

The woman’s smile was warm and inviting. “Ah, very nice. I think I can help you find just the thing.” She bounced from rack to rack, flipping through and pulling off hangers faster than I could process what was happening, all without once asking for my size.

Before I knew what was happening, I was herded toward the