“I like him.”
“I didn’t know what to get you, so we bought a few different things.” I took out the smaller gift bag that contained all of her presents.
She opened it and sifted through the gifts: A Venice Beach key chain, a California T-shirt, a replica of the Landon’s Lunch Box truck, and a fake Academy Award that said Best Friend.
Lilith inspected each item. “You did good, Toots.”
I laughed whenever she called me “Toots.” What person under the age of eighty used that term? She was getting more and more like a little old lady every day.
While she wasn’t jumping up and down or anything, she really did seem to like the gifts. I let out a relieved breath as she gave me a hug.
“When are you gonna see Landon again?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Will I ever get to meet him?”
“I hope so.”
“Did you bring anything else back?”
A massive case of lady blue balls and a bit of a broken heart.IT’S THE ONIONSThe next few weeks went by in a flash.
I kept looking for a new apartment during the day but wasn’t having any luck finding anything in my price range. That, along with looking in on my father who was recovering from knee surgery, meant my life was unusually hectic.
Even though I’d talk to Landon every night, I avoided getting into any serious topics because I felt like I couldn’t handle it mentally. Sensing that, he was letting me drive all of our conversations.
Everything came to a head one night at work when I had what felt like a panic attack during one of my dance routines. I was able to ride it out but felt totally exhausted by the time I got home.
During our nightly phone chat, I opened up to Landon about what happened at the restaurant.
“I had a bit of a panic attack tonight while performing. That’s never happened to me before.”
“Are you okay? What did it feel like?”
“I’m okay now. It just felt like I couldn’t breathe, like I was trapped in my own body with nowhere to run. I think I’ve been bottling my feelings up, and they finally turned against me.”
He didn’t immediately respond.
“Your feelings about me…about my past?”
“Yeah, I think so. I’ve been really trying hard not to think about what you used to do, but it’s been like an ever-present ghost following me around anyway.”
“As much as I don’t want to, I think we really need to talk about it.”
There was no other answer for me to give him except, “I agree.”
“Please, just ask me whatever you want to know. Rip the Band-Aid off. Let’s just get it all out there so we can deal with it. That’s the only way you’re going to know whether it’s something you can look past or not.”
I knew the questions in my mind; I just didn’t want to necessarily know the answers. But this limbo couldn’t go on forever. So, I took advantage of the open floor he was giving me tonight and just started shooting off my questions.
“You said these women were all married?”
“Yes. Each one. But for the most part, they were in bad marriages, either open relationships, or the spouse was cheating, too. Sadly, I’m finding that’s pretty common among some of the wealthy people here—so many getting divorced or having affairs.”
My next question was perhaps the hardest one to ask, but I still had to know. “Did you ever…enjoy it?”
He exhaled. “I love sex. You know that. There’s probably nothing more that I love doing. But there’s a big difference between having sex with someone you choose versus someone who’s using you and vice versa. The idea of the latter repulses me now. But at the time, I would just zone out, detach myself from the situation. While I can’t say I enjoyed it, I can’t say I hated it, either. In the moment, it never felt like I was being used, never made me sick like it does now.”
“Were they all attractive…like Carys?”
“These were wealthy women who knew how to take care of themselves, so yeah, they were all attractive, not women I would have chosen for myself, but they were attractive, nonetheless. I couldn’t have done it if the person repulsed me.” When I stopped talking for several seconds, he asked, “Are you okay?”
My emotions were all over the place, and at one point, I lost my composure a bit. “God, Landon, how could you let them take advantage of you like that?”
“I was lost—depressed. Some people turn to drugs or cutting, other forms of self-harm. I turned to using my body but managed to convince myself it wasn’t that bad because I was benefitting financially. The way I saw it, I was doing it in fancy, private places on my own terms, not selling myself on the street to just anyone. On the best day, I had myself convinced that it wasn’t really prostitution, that it was something else. I didn’t account for the fact that a little piece of my soul was being stripped away each time, and that it would all eventually hit me at once. I also didn’t take into account that I would have to look into your eyes someday and admit to you that I sold my body. I wasn’t thinking…period.”