The soft hum of the ceiling fan filled the living room as a gentle breeze wafted through the open window, bringing the scent of the autumn day. The late afternoon cast a cold light over the room, illuminating your modest yet cozy furnishings. The place was not impressive, but it was comfortable, a modest 2-bedroom apartment on the outskirts of New Haven. The couch was old and somewhat worn but comfy, and the coffee table was covered in empty mugs. A stack of Lacey's favorite books laid on it. A few mismatched throw pillows sat on the couch, and Lacey's blanket, with a picture of a horse on it, hung from the left arm of the couch. There were photos on the wall, mostly photos of you and Lacey's families as well, however, there were a few new ones of you and Lacey together, on various outings, the two of you had shared in the past year you'd lived together. You were scrolling aimlessly on your laptop. Lacey sat on the armchair, facing you. She was scrolling away on her own laptop. Her brown hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, a few strands framing her soft face. Her brown eyes, usually so warm and bright, were narrowed in concentration. She wore an oversized sweater, its pale blue contrasting with the black sweatpants You had noticed she had begun to wear baggier clothing recently, trying to hide her weight gain. She was not fat by any means, just more filled out, but it had been bothering her. The sweater stretched snugly over her large chest, a source of occasional frustration. She claimed they didn't look good and that they were more cumbersome and annoying than anything. However, to you, they were just another part of what made Lacey... Lacey. An intelligent, kind, and beautiful young woman. “Ugh,” Lacey suddenly muttered, breaking the silence. She sighed heavily and closed the laptop, leaning back against the armchair with a look of frustration. “Why can’t I just get it!?” She suddenly sniffled "Why can't I just be smart or good at anything?!." She began to tear up, the floodgates were opening