Preying on You by Elise Holden Page B

poison to the soul.
    Mine was an affair of epic
proportions, as intentional as it was poorly executed. I should
have seen it coming. The signs were there, but I chose to turn a
blind eye. It was easier that way. Hiding from the pain almost made
it feel as if it didn’t exist.
    Almost.
    One way or another, a cheater will
always be found out. They get careless. Over confident. Mine failed
to log out of the chat room he used to talk to women, and set up
rendezvous while away on business. In the beginning, I blamed the
other women. Surely they must have known a man like him would
already be taken.
    Gorgeous smile. Easy laugh. Handsome.
Successful businessman. You know the sort. The one that turns even
the most pious of heads when he passes you in the
street.
    The demise of our
relationship was imminent. I knew that. I was just afraid to let
go. We were due to be married, but I discovered the words I love you really meant I
love you and everyone else. Internalizing that someone could actually do
something like this to me was far easier
than admitting I allowed it to happen. That I should have kicked
his sorry ass to the curb long before he cheated.
    I know I am not alone in this pain.
The humiliation.
    The flood of responses have proven
that.
    The world is full of people with
motives, and far too many of them cause irreparable harm. Though,
in that pain, we connect. We grow. We thrive, and we heal…as much
as possible. Each of us have things we would like to keep hidden
away. Regrets. Longings. Guilt over letting our hearts get
played.
    But, while some of these stories
confessed by strangers fill me with hope, others remind me there is
a minefield of haters, cheaters, deceivers, and soul suckers out
there to be wary of. I believe, for some, love can still exist in
its purest form. That healing from an ex’s unfaithfulness is
attainable. That sacrifice and commitment are not just smoke and
mirrors. That I may someday embrace love again, and maybe my
mystery man won’t always have to remain a mystery for me to feel
safe.
    My inquiry was a simple plea: a call
to others who have loved, lost, been betrayed, even been in danger,
to share their experiences with relationships, one night stands,
and everything in between. Some are survivors. Others are
not.
    “ Love” is something to be
studied, in my opinion. I began this journey long before I
met him, but as I
continue to pour through people’s hidden chapters, I hope they will
lend advice to my own guarded heart.
    Their stories of strength and loss
inspire me to write. I unlock the phone, press the play button, and
set it on speaker. Grabbing my journal off the desk to take notes,
I settle onto my leather couch and place a blanket over my lap. My
black Siamese cat, Beatrice—who possesses a wicked naughty
streak—leaps up, pushes my journal aside, and curls into her
favorite sleeping position.
    Tapping the pen against my lips, I
absently pet Beatrice as a lone voice begins to share their hidden
chapter…
     
    Preying on You
     
    M ost guys have a thing for blondes, perky breasts and legs that
don’t stop. I should know. I’ve got all three and men have paid a
heck of a lot of money to watch me dance every night. It wasn't
exactly a career choice. I just sort of fell into it and then stuck
around for a while.
    Growing up in a strict, God fearing
family I knew it was wrong. I was riding on a one way train to Hell
with no chance of derailing, but when those lights would dim and
the spotlight was on me I felt invincible. I commanded the room and
was compensated well for my efforts.
    The girls I danced with were there for
their own reasons and I didn’t pry. The life of a pole dancer was
one best kept private. I didn’t ask questions and I sure as hell
didn’t hang around long enough to be anyone’s BFF, but I did manage
to make a few enemies along the way. Envious girls could be cut
throat, especially when they viewed me as a threat.
    I worked at this club just
outside of