Sin & Salvation

Chapter 2

The heat from the curling iron is singeing my finger from where I burnt it this morning. I got it done a few hours ago, but some of the curls fell flat so I'm refreshing them a little. Brett called me around noon to tell me they closed the deal and that he set up an appointment for me to get my hair done for tonight.

To some women that might seem like a romantic gesture, but for me it's just another way for him to control me. His sister, Melissa, owns a salon, so she doesn't find it strange that he sets up my appointments and tells them "what I want." It's never actually what I want, but it makes him happy so I oblige. She finds it as endearing as everyone else that he cares so much about me to set up my appointments for me.

Brett usually asks her to make me "blonde, but not too blonde", so we've been doing a honey-blonde balayage for a few years. My hair is naturally a light ginger color so it's not too far off, but I have been missing it a lot recently. The only signs left of my natural color are the freckles scattered around my face and body, my eyebrow color, and of course everywhere else I have hair.

At least I'm saved from the constant 'curtains matching the drapes' joke I've heard since the age of 12.

As if I didn't test my luck enough today, Mel convinced me to put some money pieces in the front, and she was so excited when I agreed. I know Brett will notice right away but I'm hoping he'll come around when he realizes how great it looks on me.

I'm swiping on some lip gloss when I hear my phone buzz on the vanity. I pick it up and see a text from Brett.

Brett: Be there in 5, don't make me wait. Hope you're wearing that sexy red dress baby ;)

Ugh. Why does the word 'sexy' give me such an ick? Or maybe it's just when he says it.

Me: Of course babe, just finishing up now :)

Walking out of the bathroom, I enter my walk-in and go over to the full length mirror to look at myself, making sure everything is exactly the way he likes it. The dress he's talking about is a floor-length, dark red satin, with a v-shaped cut to the center of my breasts. It reminds me of blood, fitting since it's Brett's favorite.

I've paired it with my nude ankle-strap Louboutin sandals to show off the fresh pedicure I got today as well. White, just like daddy Brett likes them.

Makeup is one of my strengths and considering how often I use it, I'm glad I grew up in the age of beauty gurus on YouTube. The amount of color correcting I had to do to cover the bruising on my neck and wrist should qualify me to be a VFX artist.

I settled for a nice, bronzy glow to accentuate my green eyes and freckles. Makeup is the one freedom he allows me because he knows nothing about it and for that, I'm glad. Looking in the mirror, I give myself a once-over and my focus immediately goes to my body.

The tight dress is clinging to my stomach and hips in ways that make me feel practically naked. I turn to the side and begin the painstaking routine of checking myself out in disgust, until I can convince myself that I look healthy and it's all in my head.

My body has been the bane of my existence for as long as I can remember. I had DD's by the time I was 12 and was sexualized by men at a very young age. It was a humiliating and ostracizing experience for me, contrary to what people may believe.

I was always made to feel like a piece of meat by boys and men alike. I'm not exactly plus-size, but I'm also not very skinny, so I guess that would put me somewhere in the middle. I have a little tummy, but a pretty nice ass, if I do say so myself.

My face is fairly round with a soft jawline which has always garnered me the nickname "baby face" by friends and family. I don't think I'm unattractive by any means, but I've struggled with my weight and being okay with my body since puberty.

In middle school, I developed a pretty bad eating disorder that caused me to lose a lot of weight. Around the time I was 17, I was practically skin and bones. I had to be hospitalized after I passed out in my bathroom, and I began treatment shortly after. I've been in remission for almost nine years, but I'd be lying if I said I haven't fallen back into old habits a few times.

I'm grateful I had such wonderful parents who cared and noticed enough to see when things weren't right. Ironic considering they can't see that things haven't been right with me for the past few years. Like everyone, they're blinded by Brett's charm and beauty.

It's always been difficult for me to look in the mirror when all I can see is the extra weight on my stomach, thighs, hips, and back. I wasn't necessarily bullied for it growing up, quite the opposite actually. But when you can't fit into the clothes your friends do and you're raised in front of a screen, you're seeing women whose bodies look nothing like yours and wondering why.

Quickly looking away, I grab the expensive perfume Brett bought for me and spray my neck and wrists. Before him, I only dreamed of owning such luxuries. I'm spritzing my neck when I hear his car pulling into the driveway. He honks the horn and I nearly drop the bottle.

Asshole.

Remembering his request to not make him wait, I grab my small purse and put my phone inside. It takes everything in me to walk down the stairs and out the front door to his car.

Here we go. Lights, camera, action baby.