At the Stroke of Midnight (Naughty Princess Club 1)

“I am not taking off my clothes for you. I know I need to get over this hurdle, and I will. Just . . . don’t rush me,” I explain.

I hate that this is still a major roadblock on my trip to self-discovery. And I hate that all I can think about is how Brian is the only man who ever saw me naked, and he never exactly gave me any boosts of self-confidence when I did take my clothes off in front of him. There weren’t any lingering glances or muttered curses or proclamations about how beautiful I was. Sure, I’m in my early thirties, and that’s not old by any means, but I’ve also had a child. Things aren’t as high and tight as they were when I was younger.

“Someone needs to rush you. We’ve got bills to pay, and I’d like to start making some money before you march over to my house and make me sell my shit. Come on, take off your pants,” Ariel urges, reaching her hands toward the button on the only pair of jeans I own. “Jesus, are these mom jeans? I can’t even see your belly button!”

Her hands lift the hem of my shirt and her face scrunches up in disgust.

“These are not mom jeans!” I argue, smacking her hands away and yanking my shirt back down into place.

“If you can tuck your tits into the waistband and it looks like you’re wearing a diaper, they’re mom jeans. Never wear those again,” Ariel informs me. “Do you not want to get naked because you have a hairy troll pussy? It’s fine, we can fix that with a quick trip to the salon and some hot wax.”

“I don’t have a hairy troll . . . area. And even if I did, it wouldn’t matter, since we’re not getting fully naked,” I remind her.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re covering that shit up. Hairy troll doll pussy hair does not need to be puffing out of the sides of your thong. Also, if you don’t say the word pussy at the top of your lungs right now, I will wrestle you to the ground and rip those clothes from your body, then shove you outside and lock the door,” Ariel threatens.

“I’m not saying that word. It’s disgusting.”

“Do you really think it’s disgusting, or did Brian think it was disgusting? The whole point of all of this is to figure out who you are. Who you want to be. You’ve told me that every decision you’ve made for the last thirteen years was because of him. Old habits die hard. Do you want to be the woman blending in with the background, or do you want to be the woman taking charge of her life?” Ariel asks.

“You already know the answer to that, so why are you asking me?”

“Because you keep fighting me every step of the way. Then, you step out of your comfort zone and you realize it’s amazing. You stopped wearing beige, and you love it. You went to a strip club, and you loved it. You gave a guy a lap dance, and you loved it. Are you still in love with Brian? Is that the problem? Are you afraid to take that final plunge because you think there’s a chance he might come back and you’re scared he won’t find the same woman he left behind?”

Honestly, I’ve thought about this exact thing so much over the last few weeks. A small part of me worries, what if he does come home? What happens when I no longer want to fit into the mold he made for me? But the other part of me, the much larger part, really doesn’t give a damn. I think about the way I used to live my life before Ariel came crashing in with her foul language and zest for life, and Belle came tiptoeing in with all her random knowledge and sweet innocence, and it makes me sad. It makes me realize just how truly alone and unsatisfied I was and I know I can never, ever go back to being that person again.

“Can we be honest?” I ask quietly.

“We just discussed your hairy troll vagina. It doesn’t get much more honest than that,” Ariel shrugs.

“I don’t think I ever really loved Brian. I cared for him. I wanted to make him happy. But I read all of these books and watch all of these movies about soulmates and people being in love, and I’ve never felt the way they have. I’ve never felt like I couldn’t breathe if I lost him. I’ve never felt like his love was the only thing I needed to make me happy. I loved the stability and security he gave me. I adore the daughter he blessed me with, and that he gave me a family. I never had that growing up, and when he gave it to me, it blinded me to all of the reasons why we weren’t a good fit,” I tell her.