Page 15 of Dr. Damaged Protector

I didn't answer, avoiding eye contact.

"I figured," she laughed. "You don't have to answer. I figured that she wouldn't say anything positive." The smile on her face was pained. "I guess I am pretty much an embarrassment."

I struggled to find the words to say. I barely knew her, so I didn't know if I was to agree with her statement or not.

"Alright, I'll get to it," she said after taking a deep breath. "Do you want to stay with me? I know you're already eighteen, but I don't think you can fully support yourself yet. I think it's the best I can do."

"I would like that," I said.

She was family. So, I was safe with her. At eighteen, I was an adult but could barely provide for myself. I wasn't able to get any college scholarships, so that was another problem. So, if she was willing to help, then it was no problem.

"Thank you," she said.

I should have been the one thanking her.

****

Life with my aunt was different from my time at Grandmother's. She let me have free reign of what I wanted to do. True, she was only sometimes around, focusing on getting more clients. I never had the opportunity to ask her why she did what she did.

Her cooking skills could have been better, and neither were any other skills one could market. But her charisma was off the charts. Just by sitting and breathing, she would draw attention to herself from both genders; then she'd make her pick.

I couldn't complain about her lifestyle choices, as that was what fueled my living expenses.

****

I didn't want to end up like her. Not to be judgmental or anything of the sort. So, I studied business management and graduated with first class. But getting a job at twenty-three was next to impossible. I was either too inexperienced, too young, or hear me out, toobeautifulfor the role.

"They aren't wrong, though," my aunt said as she poked at my arm. "You are actually so stunning it's scary."

"How does that affect me from getting a job?" I frowned.

"Was the interviewer a lady in her late thirties and no wedding ring?" she asked.

Stunned at the accuracy of her words, I asked, "How did you know?"

She shrugged. "Sometimes, a woman's mortal enemy is the members of her own gender."

My shoulders slumped. It sucked, but there was no use complaining about it. I couldn't continue living the way I was. Age was catching up to my aunt, and the number of her clients had drastically reduced.

I needed the money, and she never asked me to join her, nor did she ask me to step up. She wasn't lying. In terms of looks, I wasn't lacking in any way. My body was constantly being stared at. Even some of her clients would give lecherous gazes.

Not that I enjoyed it, but for a moment, I was frustrated by so many setbacks that I actually considered going on that path.

****

It wasn't fantastic. I remember the first time I got involved with my first client. He wasn't rash. He bought me everything I needed, and I didn't even need a lot of things. Wining and dining: the finest restaurants in Chicago were mine for the taking. He was so sweet with his words that I hate to admit…I fell in love with him.

Sex was scary, but he guided me through it, gentle and everything. I thought he was into me.

Then, I found out he was married. I felt ashamed. My aunt had warned me to guard my heart steadfastly, ensuring I didn't get emotionally attached to any clients. I tried taking it to heart, but it only got more complex. One time, I was promised marriage, and in my naive state, I went along with it, but he disappeared, and I never heard from him ever again.

I started controlling the kind of men I kept as clients. It wasn't pretty, either. I stopped involving myself with anyone who was married or even had an ex-wife. It felt wrong to be involved with anyone in infidelity. I was cursed anytime I turned them down. I bit my lower lip and went ahead with it. I convinced myself that there wasn't anything I could do.

As time passed, I met other girls and even men involved in the trade with similar backstories. Some of them had to run away from abusive homes, and others had families in debt.

Barely living took a lot of work to achieve. After three years, I met him.

"It's not a tall dream," he continued. "I know it seems like you can't escape your current situation, but you will. You just have to face the problem head-on without backing down."

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