Cross, My Heart

Sex, Lies, and Jesus

THE CROSS DID NOT BELONG IN THE DARK.  It was a thin silver chain I wore around my neck.  From it hung a cross made of glass squares cut to look like small diamonds.  Each piece of glass reflected the light of the sun around me, though my world had become very dark.  A gift from my daughter, this necklace was a treasure to me.  It represented love and hope; it stood for forgiveness I didn’t believe was mine; it was a tangible piece that tied me somehow to a past I had walked away from.

I never wore my cross necklace when I was working in the club.  I would gently remove it from my neck as I prepared to leave for the night, carefully leaving it on the bathroom counter of the condo where I lived alone.  When I returned in the early hours of the morning, my…

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