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Stripped(60)

By:Brenda Rothert


“Maybe you were also angry about what happened to you,” Abby said, rubbing his hand. Chris nodded.

“Yeah. And the other thing is, when I went home and told my Mom about it, she said it would be embarrassing to her and my Dad if anyone found out. She told me to never mention it to anyone again, and I haven’t. And now that I’m older and I see how wrong she was, I resent her for it.”

“Of course. That makes complete sense,” Abby said.

“And it pisses me off that you don’t resent your Mom the same way.”

Abby was at a loss for words. She was grateful when Charlotte jumped in.

“Chris, Abby’s feelings about what happened to her, and about her family, are her own.”

“I know. I get that, but I don’t know how to sit by and say nothing as she lets people walk all over her.”

“This isn’t about me, though,” Abby interjected. “It’s about you, and I’m so sorry about what happened to you.”

“I’m past it,” he clipped.

“Are you, though?” Charlotte asked gently. “You’ve always kept everyone who tried to get close to you at arms’ length. A lot of the women you’ve taken out over the years wanted more, but you never did.”

Chris shrugged.

“I want more now, with Abby.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s amazing, Charlotte. You know how I feel about her.”

“I know, and I agree that she’s amazing. But do you think that maybe you see in Abby someone who understands what it feels like to be hurt in the way you were? That maybe you admire her survival because you’ve been through the same thing?”

“I don’t know… Abby’s been through much worse than me.”

“That’s not true, Chris,” Abby said. “Anytime someone violates your trust in them like that, it hurts. And to have your own mother not be in your corner makes it so much worse.”

“Is that how it was for you, Abby?” Charlotte asked.

“Sure. Having my Mom blame me for what happened hurts. Just because I don’t show it doesn’t mean I don’t feel hurt.”

“Then why don’t you stand up for yourself?” Chris demanded, anger seeping into his voice. Abby shook her head with frustration.

“Have you stood up for yourself, to your Mom?” she asked.

“Not in so many words, no. But I will. You’re right, I should, and I will. Maybe it all comes down to that for me, I don’t know. Do I not want to be close to anyone because of what that guy did to me, or because of my Mom not supporting me? I don’t know.”

“Maybe what happened to me has affected me, too, I don’t know,” Abby said.

“It’s affected you a lot,” Chris said. “I can’t think of any other reason someone as amazing as you would have no self-worth.”

“I have self-worth!” Abby protested. “I put my body on display to the whole world. That takes confidence.”

“Confidence is different from self-worth. If you had self-worth, you wouldn’t let yourself be objectified. What if Audrey came to you in five years and said she wanted to strip?”

“That’s not the same thing! Yes, I know the club is a seedy place where trashy men come to fantasize, but that doesn’t mean I’m seedy and trashy,” Abby said.

“Okay,” Charlotte said, raising a hand to mediate. “I want you to do something for me, Abby. The next time you work at the club, I want you to think about how you’re feeling. There’s no right or wrong answer. Just think about how working there makes you feel.”

“Okay.”

“Guys, these are difficult issues,” Charlotte said. “You made progress today. Chris, you took a big step toward Abby by trusting her with what happened to you. Try not to judge her. You’re here to support each other.”

Abby reached her arms around Chris’ neck, hugging him tightly.

“Thanks for telling me,” she said. His warm arms wrapped around her back.

“Thanks for making me want to.”





The beat of the club’s music pounded in her ears, and Abby wished for a moment of peace. She was tired, and she still had a long night ahead of her.

The hard smack of a hand against her ass made her spin around angrily. A table of men laughed, all feigning looks of innocence.

“Who did that?” she demanded.

“Relax,” a 20-something man at the table said.

“There’s no touching here, and whoever did that is getting thrown out!” she yelled, anger rising within her.

“Sorry,” another man said. “Really. How much?” He pulled out his wallet.