Exposed: A Novel (10 page)

Chapter 23
Ally

Jessie never opened the bedroom door.

The numbers on the clock turned and turned until I heard the garage door open again, ten minutes later. I scrambled to the bedroom window.

There went Jessie’s car. Again.

I ran to the phone and dialed his number.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.

“Hello, you’ve reached—”

Click.

The sound of his voice could’ve just as well been the sound of a siren screeching in my ear. Annoying and painful.

That’s it, I thought. I’m done.

I went into the bathroom, rinsed my face and reapplied makeup. Lots of makeup. I curled my hair a little, went back to the bedroom and slipped on my favorite silky dress, a great necklace and a set of blue sapphire earrings to match, and a pair of lacey heels.

Yes, I wanted to make an impression. I wanted to be noticed since my husband obviously didn’t care.

On my way to my car I passed the dining room table and without thinking twice I took my rings off my finger and put them right in front of Jessie’s usual chair. No note. No regrets. Nothing.

And I knew exactly where I needed to go.

I knew where Sean worked so it wasn’t difficult to find him. Still not married or tied down, he worked late nights at Recher Theatre in Towson.

I parked my car in the nearby Barnes & Noble parking lot. Yes, there’s pretty much a Barnes & Noble everywhere in Maryland.

Chin up, shoulders back, feeling the best I’d felt in days, I walked down Towson streets until I reached Recher Theatre. Unable to go in, I meandered outside for a while. Maybe Sean would come out and see me. Yet, I feared what would happen if he did.

I slinked down and sat against the wall of the theatre. Don’t be mistaken by the name, it’s mostly a music venue. Sometimes comedians show up, but mostly bands. People walked by me. Happy couples. Not-so-happy singles. Hands linked. Hands in pockets. I analyzed the love around me, remembering Sean, remembering Jessie before all of this.

Sean walked through the doors.

Thump. Thump.

My heart, my hands, my neck, everything throbbed. Everything rocked inside of me. My world was turning upside down and I didn’t know if I wanted to stop it.

Smiling brighter than ever, Sean reached his arms out and I hesitantly walked into his embrace. Images from high school brushed through my mind as his hand touched my back. The smell of his cologne, still the same, took me back to nights of stargazing on the roof of his car. Happiness, I thought. I was happy then.

“So, how’ve you been?” he said. “It’s been so long.”

“I’m doing great.”

Sean didn’t shy away from my eyes. He looked right into them. I thought for sure he saw through my mask, but he didn’t say anything. He just smiled, ran a hand over his shorter than short hair, and led me back to the bench.

Butterflies invaded my insides, but they didn’t feel the same as the night I met Jessie. They felt like an invasion, pure and simple. But I tossed the truth aside and told myself to sit next to Sean.

He sat a few feet away from me and took my hand.

“No rings,” he said, still holding my hand.

“Separation.”

“I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “What happened?”

“Not worth talking about.”

He inched closer to me.

My insides shivered.

And closer.

From my toes to my cheeks, my body heated.
What am I doing?
ran through my mind a few times, but I ignored it. My husband doesn’t care, I told myself. He doesn’t want me. Doesn’t love me. I’m not good enough.

Not.

Good.

Enough.

Sean’s hand touched my knee. His other arm wrapped around my shoulders and pulled me into his chest. “Whatever he did or said isn’t right, Allyson. You are beautiful. Inside and out. You deserved better.”

Honey, sweet, sweet, honey to my broken heart. I couldn’t help but notice, though, the d on the end of deserve. Jessie was becoming my past.

And I didn’t like it.

But I wanted to feel loved and Sean could provide that. He thought I was the most beautiful woman in the world from the day I met him. Probably still did.

To be sure, I asked.

He smiled. A serious, joy-worn smile. “Allyson, you shouldn’t need to ask that question.”

“But I am asking,” I said. “Do you think I’m beautiful?”

“The most beautiful.”

“More beautiful than a blonde?”

“Who needs to ask that? You define beauty, anything else is nowhere near the kind of beauty you are. Look at you.” He waved his hand up and down in front of me. “You’re perfect.”

Dripping, sweet sugar to my ears.

His cotton candy words seeped into my heart. Maybe I did marry the wrong person, I thought. People tried to warn me. Jessie’s own father tried to warn me.

A car beeped.

Sean and I jumped, then laughed and laughed until his face ended up two inches from mine.

With only thick summer air between us, his lips begged me to come closer.

You’re perfect.

My eyelids closed.

In the silence of a split second, I pictured Jessie’s face. I pictured our wedding vows, our appointments with fertility specialists, our first arguments and makeup nights, our spontaneous road trips. Like flashes of memories at the close of life, my marriage flashed before its end.

And Sean’s breath warmed my face.

Chapter 24
Taylor

After a few hours of being Sadie, I left Andy’s house with another $800 and a yearning for Cola. My insides, down there, burned so bad I could hardly walk. If I didn’t know any better, I’d had said my bladder was about to fall out of my body along with everything else.

When I got home that day, I turned on the television, grabbed Cola, and primed a line to snort away my problems. Before I gave in, I noticed a lingerie ad on television. I thought of the fame Andy promised me.

Glancing down at Cola, I pictured Daddy. I wondered if somehow he could see me, and if so, what he thought of Sadie.

A tear rolled down my cheek and soaked into the powdery white line.

I cupped my head in my hands and pulled my hair until more tears watered my eyes.

No one loves me, I said inside. Daddy, I wish you didn’t leave me here. All Mom’s boyfriends touching me, now this. None of this would’ve happened if you were still with me.

I pictured Mom’s first boyfriend after Daddy died. The way he smelled sour, like beer and sweat. The way he swaggered into my bedroom at night and made me do things no little kid should be forced to do.

Now, I wanted to die. No part of me wanted to live. I had nothing to live for. Nothing except Andy and porn, and a second life that ripped my insides from my cervix to my heart. No one loved me. No one ever would.

I know what to do, I thought.

I hurried to the dining room and pulled my cell phone from my purse. I searched for Gianna’s number and called.

Two rings and she picked up.

“Look who it is,” she said.

“Hey, I need to talk to someone, can I come over?”

“Why not? I just got off work. What time will you be here?”

Ugh, work. The word tormented me.

I wrote down directions to her $3,000 a month apartment in Canton and hung up the phone.

Within ten minutes I headed south on I-95. If only I knew just how south I was really headed.

Gianna welcomed me with a hug and immediately handed me a joint. I shook my head.

She smirked and walked away. “Close the door, would ya?”

I shut the door and followed her into the living room. Her apartment seemed so feminine and dainty, like a classy young businesswoman lived there. White couches, silk rose petals on the glass coffee table, no television, shelves of books—you would never guess a porn star lived there.

“So, what’s going on? Need some tips or something?” She sat on the couch and pulled her knees to her chest.

I sat across from her on the loveseat. “Um, actually I want to ask you a question.”

She smiled. Or tried to.

“Do you ever want to stop doing this stuff?” I said.

She sunk into the couch, cross-legged, and inhaled more pot. “By this stuff, do you mean pot?”

“Porn.”

“Well, you know, I like to think of it as adult entertainment. I’m an actress, not a porn star. And no, I don’t ever want to stop. Sometimes I did in the beginning, but”—she held up the joint—“this gets me through it. And I need the money. Bad.”

“Yeah.” I thought of Cola.

“I’ve learned to think of it as destiny.”

Destiny?

“It’s art, you know.”

I nodded without looking up, hoping for a tiny piece of encouragement somewhere under her words.

“What?”

I looked up, half-smiled.

“Well, it may not be
Forrest Gump
or anything, but some of it can be very creative and fun. Very beautiful.”

There’s no way she experienced the same thing I did—the ripping and bleeding, the laxatives and bruises. Beautiful was not in porn’s dictionary, at least not in mine.

“Look, just think of it this way, you are helping tons of marriages and families.”

“I am?”

“Of course you are. Think of all the marriages that use adult entertainment to spice up their lives. That’s gotta count for something, right?” She swept her long hair behind her ear.

I touched the sofa. “Is this silk?”

“Oh yeah, everything I own is silk. Well, like, almost everything.”

She stood and walked into the kitchen, strutting as if her living room turned into a runway when I blinked. I looked over my shoulder as she rummaged through a cabinet and snatched a bag of Cooler Ranch Doritos.

She popped the top of the bag open and walked back into the living room. “Want some?” She held the bag toward me.

“No, thanks.”

“Munchies.” She laughed and handed me the last of the joint in her hand.

Why not? Wash away the bad dreams and imagine a better life for a little while.

Within an hour we were both high, hungry, and laughing about how wonderful the porn industry was and how we’d soon be stars together. Gianna and Sadie. The best of the best. They’d never find someone better. Ever.

We lounged.

We laughed.

And we lied.

We were so good at it.

Chapter 25
Ally

Sean’s lips, inches from mine, assaulted my marriage. And I let them. Eyes closed, I waited for him to kiss me.

“Ally?” A familiar voice said.

I jerked away from Sean’s face and looked in front of me. Tim licked his lips. I knew he couldn’t wait to tell Verity what he saw. I looked back at Sean. He looked at me, then Tim.

“Do you know this guy?” Sean said.

I nodded and said to Tim, “It’s not what you think.”

“Right,” he said, and walked away.

Of all people, of all times.

I stood and literally ran from Sean’s perplexed gaze. Must’ve been quite a sight to the college students walking around Towson. But I had to catch Tim before he called Verity, before he told Jessie.

I caught up to Tim in front of Barnes & Noble.

“Look, I’m not going to tell Jessie.” He stopped walking and looked at me. “That’s for you to do, if you think it’s important enough.”

“I know what you’re getting at, but this isn’t what you think.”

“Okay, whatever. Your life, your problems. But I don’t feel sorry for you, not at all.”

I walked away and called Verity. No answer.

Tim crossed the street and walked toward the parking lot. My heart climbed higher in my chest with every step he took. Please, don’t tell Jessie, I said to him in my head over and over.

I still cared about my marriage, about Jessie. Maybe Tim saved me from making a mistake I didn’t need to make.

I went home and thought of how I could make everything better, how I could be the wife Jessie needed.

Within a half hour of thinking, I came up with a list.

Dye my hair blonde. Buy lingerie. Cook a romantic dinner. Be around more. Stop being so irritable around my time of the month. Have sex like the kind I saw in the movies he liked.

I realized I needed to work harder to be the wife he wanted. Then I’d feel the way Sean made me feel—wanted and beautiful. I figured I didn’t try hard enough in the past. People needed to change sometimes to be the right person for their spouse. I told my client’s that all the time. And it’s true. Sometimes we have to sacrifice parts of ourselves for another person.

So, I convinced myself that’s what I needed to do, no matter how wrong I felt about making myself into a porn star.

The next day I skipped church and went to the salon, telling myself that my marriage was more important. $193.26 later I climbed on top of the world and enjoyed the view.

When I got into my car I pulled the visor down and admired myself. I never, ever thought I’d look right as a blonde, but did I ever! Not to mention the beautiful hairstyle. I never had layers before, never bothered with my curly mess. Nothing could tame my hair. But now I had straight, blonde, silky hair and I looked exactly like the models Jessie liked.

On the way home I saw a tanning salon and didn’t think twice. I parked my car and went inside. After signing up I sat down in the waiting area and smiled at the young girls in the room. Trying not to blush, I picked up People magazine and drowned myself in celebrity gossip.

Every now and then I’d look up at the girls around me and say to myself, “What are you doing here? You don’t belong here.”

But I convinced myself that I did belong there and so did the young girls around me. We had a right to feel good about ourselves, especially in a world that pushes this kind of stuff. I needed to be beautiful like Jessie wanted in order to fix my marriage. Change, that’s what needed to happen to make my marriage thrive again.

I admired the fashion trends of famous actresses and took mental notes so I knew what to buy.

“Allyson, you can go in now.”

I stood, tiny eye goggles in my hand, lotion in the other.

Sexiness. That’s what I coveted. Conviction after conviction tried to stop me. This isn’t right. You’re being immodest. Sexiness isn’t beauty. This should only be exposed for your husband. You’re turning your back on God.

I didn’t listen. If I needed to turn my back on God to fix my marriage, then so be it. Plus, maybe the convictions weren’t convictions. Maybe they were signs of legalism in my heart.

Are you sure you’re trying to fix your marriage and not your selfish desire to be the most beautiful woman in the world?

The question stabbed me, but I ignored it along with everything else. Following Jesus under those circumstances would only worsen things. And I didn’t know what Jesus would do anyway, it’s not like He had to worry about being beautiful to His husband. I needed to believe in myself on this one.

So, believing in myself I went as I signed on to an online lingerie shop and searched for things Jessie liked on those other women.

But something happened.

With each skimpy garment of lingerie I saw, I also saw a half-naked woman posing in it. And every time I clicked on a new picture I analyzed her body, up and down, even using the zoom in tool to look closer. I know, I know, insane, crazy—I hated myself for being so insecure, but I couldn’t help it.

My shoulders wilted.

My heart stopped racing with excitement and thudded with jealousy.

With every girl, every click, I sunk further into myself. My eyes glazed over as I compared myself to the models on the screen. They’re airbrushed, I told myself, striving and striving and striving for a beauty that would be defied by age.

Well, they do make age-defying creams, I thought and then slouched into my chair even more.

Why, God? Why couldn’t you have made me to be what he wanted? Why’d you do this to me?

“The first time you cry out to God in months and this is what you say?” I reamed myself. “You’re not good enough to talk to God. You’re not good enough for anyone.”

I never knew words silently glued together in my head could form mallets and pound my soul to death. Until then.

Discouraged with no one but half-naked models staring at me, I did the only thing I thought would make me feel better.

I bought $482 worth of lingerie online and then cried alone in bed, wondering where Jessie went and if he’d ever come back so I could actually use the $695.25 makeover I bought.

When I remembered my meeting with Dad tomorrow I calmed my crying and watched the clock.

No matter how many sheep I counted, I couldn’t sleep.