My voice was trembling. “She was paying you for sex?”
He looked me straight in the eyes, even though it looked like it pained him to answer. “Yes.”
That hurt to hear so much. “Wow,” I muttered.
“That was how it started.”
My head was spinning. “Started?”
“I found out that there was a close-knit network of Hollywood wives who traded boy toys like me. They’d use you until they were done with you then introduce you to a friend in what was supposed to seem like a seamless transition. Young guys get caught up in the lavish lifestyle. At the time, you think you’re living the good life and don’t see what’s horribly wrong with it. You’re making loads of cash—more money than you could even fathom—and all you have to do is look good and give them their bad boy fantasy.”
The harsh words escaped me before I could think better of it. “You were a whore…”
He shut his eyes as if I’d just stabbed them with my words then said, “At the time, I never considered myself that. I’d prettied it up in my mind to make myself feel better, because I didn’t really want to stop. The money was too good, and quite honestly back then, I didn’t feel like I had anything to live for.”
Feeling my stomach churning, I stood up and paced. “Whoa. I’m gonna be sick.”
He walked across the room to be closer to me. “You have to understand my mental state at the time. I was very angry at the world, so fucking miserable.”
I suddenly turned around to face him. “How long did this go on?”
“About a year and a half.”
Trying hard to fend off the tears that were forming in my eyes, I took a deep breath in and just stared up at the ceiling, attempting in vain to absorb this upsetting news.
“What made you stop?” I finally whispered.
He looked at me with pleading eyes. “I had a dream one night. And in it, I was the father to a little boy who was asking me point blank if I sold my body for money. It was freaky and messed up that this little kid would even be talking about that shit, but clearly it was coming from my own guilty subconscious mind. In the dream, I remember really struggling with how to answer him. I was so ashamed. Who knows if the boy represented my inner self or my fear of having a child someday and having him find out. Anyway, I woke up in a cold sweat, ran to the bathroom, and just looked myself in the mirror for the longest time in disgust. Absolute disgust. In that moment, I knew it had to stop. That was the end of it. I changed my number that morning. Never looked back. Needless to say, it was an awakening that I’ll always be grateful for. I’m very happy I saw the light.”
“How long ago was that day?”
“That was almost three years ago now.”
It eased my mind a little to know that so much time had passed.
I hesitated to ask, “Is that how you got the money to buy the truck and everything else?”
“Partly. I banked everything I ever made.”
“That explains the Range Rover.”
“Yeah.” He looked so ashamed to admit it. “I’m telling you right now, Rana, that I don’t think I could handle this situation if the roles were reversed. If you can accept me after this, you’re a hell of a lot stronger person than I am. I understand completely if you can’t see yourself being with me after what I just admitted to you. It disgusts me to think about what I did. I think about myself back then, and it’s like looking back at a different person. Those early days in L.A…in many ways…it was like getting abducted by aliens. That person isn’t who I am now. I made all of my life mistakes within a two-year span.”
“How many women?”
“There were six total.”
Six?
I swallowed. “That woman at the restaurant tonight—Carys—she was one of them?”
“Yes. She was the last one.”
It made me so sick to hear him confirm he’d had sex with her, even though I’d suspected that was the case before he even told me any of this.
“What if we hadn’t run into her? When were you going to tell me?”
“That’s a big reason why I’d wished you were staying longer. I needed more time before I dropped this bomb on you.”
“You were going to let me go home without having this conversation?”
“My hope was to use every moment of this time for you to get to know me—the man I am now. I would’ve probably told you after you left or during our next visit. The main thing is, I just didn’t know how to tell you. How do you tell someone who believes in you, that maybe you’re not worthy? I’m ashamed, but it’s a chapter of my life I will never be able to erase no matter how hard I wish I could.”