“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe when the world lied to you and said you were unworthy of being loved.”
“You’ll really help me find myself?”
“If you’d like my help. I won’t overstep my welcome if you want this to be a solo thing.”
“No, I, well, I’d like…” She swallowed hard and smiled. I wanted more of that. I wanted more of her smiles. “I’d like your help with this.”
“Then my help is all yours.”
She smiled more.
I thought about kissing her.
I didn’t, of course, but the thought lived there.
Her phone rang, and I saw Jeff’s name pop up. I didn’t know why that made a ting of jealousy hit me.
“Ugh. I should get ready to go talk to Jeff.” She stood from the bed and wiped her hands clean on a napkin. “Thank you, Damian.”
“Always, Stella.”
I said always, and the messed-up thing was I think I meant it, too.
Her hand almost touched mine as she placed the napkin down on the tray.
It didn’t, of course, but I wished it would’ve.
As she started to hop away on her crutches, I began to speak, making her pause in place. “I like the way you notice things. How observant you are when no one’s looking. How you smile at the clouds and every yellow flower you walk by. How you whistle in the shower, how you speak out loud to yourself. How you love people. Your artwork. Your talent. Your eyes. That’s superficial, and screw the superficial, but I love your eyes. I like the way you hum to the radio and listen when others are talking. I like how you move. I like how your body curves. And I like your heart. How it still beats even after everything life has done to it,” I said. Her back was still to me as I watched her body slightly trembling from nerves due to my words. I didn’t mean to make her emotional, but I needed her to know that so many things about her were worthy of love. I cleared my throat. “Just in case you needed a list of things that there were to like about yourself.”
She turned my way rheumy-eyed. “Damian?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you’re my husband.”
I didn’t say it, but I was a lucky bastard to have such a beautiful woman as my wife.
While Stella went to meet up with Jeff, I had an evening planned with Denise. I wasn’t looking forward to the outing that she had planned for us, especially after hearing the horror stories of the women and how they treated Stella.
I was going into the situation with hatred already sitting in my chest.
She chose an overpriced restaurant and showed up in a gown as if she were going to the Oscars. Everything about her posture showed the fact that she thought she was better than everyone surrounding her.
You could tell a lot about a person by how they treated strangers. Even more based on how they treated waitstaff—people who were there to help.
Denise was a menace to society.
“I asked for the butter to be softened, and this is rock solid,” Denise scolded the poor server who couldn’t have been over nineteen years old.
The girl, Josie, was almost shaking from Denise’s tone. “I’m so sorry about that, ma’am, let me run that back to get you—"
“I truly cannot believe how incompetent some humans are to this day. It was an easy request, and still, you managed to screw it up,” Denise scolded.
Josie apologized again, I told her not to worry about it, and she hurried away.
“It blows your mind, doesn’t it?” Denise said, pursing her lips together in disapproval. “How the mediocre are so good at making the simplest mistakes.”
“You’re a fucking demon,” I muttered under my breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
Please don’t be my mother.
“You know who the server reminds me of?” Denise asked after the overly apologetic server brought her a plate with the softened butter. She hurried away quickly, too.
“Who’s that?”
“Stella,” she breathed out. “That woman couldn’t have a backbone if she paid for it. Plus, she messed up on the easiest of tasks and—hey! Where are you going?!” Denise remarked as I stood from the table.
Far, far away from here.
21
Stella
Twelve Years Old
* * *
“I thought I asked you to take out the trash, Stella,” Denise remarked as she stood in the kitchen. The trash bin was wide open, and she stared at me as if I were the worst thing to ever happen to her.
I swore I took that out earlier.
I mean, I think I did?
Sometimes Denise would ask me to clean things up, and before I knew it, more chores would magically show up.
I shook my head, confused. “I already did that?”
“Is that a question or a statement?” she asked, snapping her fingers at me.
“A st-statement,” I muttered, my voice shaky. Kevin was off at work, and I hated when he went to work because then I’d be left alone with Denise. She was good at acting nice when Kevin was around, but whenever he’d leave, it was as if she’d take off her nice face and be really mean to me. Even though I never did anything mean to her.
“Then speak clearly, Stella, and stop with the mumbling. Good heavens, I am shocked Kevin even allows you to act the way you do. Now, get this trash out now,” she told me.
I grabbed the trash bag quickly and scurried away. I ran outside and tossed it into the trash bin. I turned to go back inside, but my heart was racing fast. Instead, I bent down next to the trash bins and wrapped my arm around my legs as I rocked back and forth.
“Do better, Stella, just do better,” I said to myself, feeling my stomach hurt as I realized it was because of me that Denise was upset. I did something wrong, and now she was mad at me. I didn’t want her to be mad at me because maybe she’d tell Kevin, and I didn’t want him to be mad either.
Be better.
Not only did my stomach hurt, but my chest did, too. I started breathing heavily, rocking faster and faster as I rubbed my hands up and down my arms. My nails scratched into my skin as things became blurry.
It felt like my heart was going to burst out of my chest as tears fell down my cheeks. What was wrong with me? Why did I feel like this?
Do better. Be normal. Be what Denise wants.
My hands became sweaty, and I rubbed them against my pants legs. My hands were shaky, but I shot up to my feet when I heard my name.
“Stella!” Denise screamed from inside the house.
My chest still hurt, my stomach still felt gross, but I ran as fast as I could to get back inside the house. I had to be fast. Otherwise, Denise would yell at me for being slow. The moment I made it into the kitchen, she was staring at me with stern eyes. In front of her was her smoothie lying in a mess across the floor.
“Look what you made me do, Stella!” Denise remarked.
“I…I…I…” I stuttered, feeling shaky.
“You what?”
“I wasn’t i-in h-here,” I spat out. It couldn’t have been my fault. I wasn’t around. Was it my fault? How did I do that? What did I do wrong?
Do better.
Be better…
“Yes, you did. Everything is always a mess when you’re around. Everything is your fault. Now get down there and clean it up,” she ordered, throwing a rag at me.
I did as she said, and she watched me with a smirk on her face.
“This is why you need to go to boarding school, like I told Kevin. You are a complete headache to everyone you encounter. I mean, truly, how could you be such a mess?” Denise scolded me.
“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” a voice said, breaking in on Denise’s words.
I looked up to see Kevin standing there looking our way. My hands were covered in Denise’s red smoothie. Kevin hurried over to me and helped me off the floor. “What are you doing, Stella? You don’t have to clean this up.”
Denise’s whole p
ersona shifted into the nice lady she pretended to be. “Sweetheart, what are you doing here? I thought you were working late.”
“I figured it would be nice to have dinner with the family tonight,” he said to her.
Denise kept smiling. “Of course. I can make us reservations and—”
“Denise,” Kevin cut in.
“Yes?”
“You need to pack your bags and leave this place right now.”
“Excuse me?” she remarked, looking stunned.
“You heard me. I heard how you were shouting at her. I would never allow something like that to happen, and for you to think it’s okay to speak to my daughter like that, then you are out of your mind,” Kevin said.
“Your daughter? Please. Kevin, she’s not even your kid.”
I moved behind Kevin’s leg, still shaking like I did outside.
“Stella is more mine than you will ever be,” he remarked. “Now, get your things and leave.”
They argued back and forth for a while, but by the end of the conversation, Denise did pack her things and leave. Kevin told me to go take a shower to get the smoothie off me, and I did as he said. When I came out, he was waiting in my room to talk to me.
“You okay, Stella?”
I nodded, even though my stomach was still in knots.
“Is that the first time Denise has spoken to you like that?” he questioned.
I shook my head.
He muttered a word under his breath that I wasn’t allowed to say, then brushed his thumb against his nose before looking at me. His eyes watered, and he sniffled.
“I’m sorry I made you sad, Kevin,” I told him.
“No. No, you didn’t, sweetheart.” He pulled me into a hug and kissed my forehead. “It’s my fault, you know. I’m sorry I even brought that woman into our house. I guess I’ve just been searching for something in the wrong people.”
“What are you searching for?” I asked.
He parted his mouth as if he was going to talk but then closed it fast. He had something to say, but still, he didn’t say it. Instead, he replied, “How about we go get some dinner? Just you and me?”
“Maybe Grams, too?”
He smiled. “Yes, of course. Her too.”
22
Stella
Present Day
* * *
“You can’t be serious,” Jeff remarked, standing flabbergasted after I broke things off with him. “After all I’ve done for you, you have the nerve to break up with me?”
“All you’ve done for me? Jeff, you’ve cheated on me for three years with my coworker. You’ve lied straight to my face. And heaven knows who else you’ve been sleeping with.”
“So, I make one mistake, and you throw me to the curb?”
One mistake? Was he serious? A mistake was burning a pizza, not repeatedly screwing my friend. That wasn’t a mistake—that was a choice. One he felt very confident in making.
Thinking back on all the times the three of us were together, I felt like a fool. I’d been overthinking if there were any signs that they were sneaking behind my back. Clearly, there had to have been, seeing as Damian was so quick to pick up on the scandal.
I wished I’d been able to read people as he had. I would’ve probably saved myself a lot of heartache.
“This isn’t a one mistake thing. You betrayed me,” I explained.
He rolled his eyes. “Give me a break, Stella. This whole good girl act is exhausting. I’ve been nothing but good to you. I’ve put up with your emotions for ten damn years. I’ve dealt with your massive weight gain and still screwed you. I dealt with your weird obsession with talking to the ocean like a freak and listened to your stupid dreams. I’ve supported you! And then you have enough nerve to throw me to the side like a used puppy as if you’re just this innocent victim?”
But I was…
I was innocent.
I blinked a few times, shaken by his words and insults. Then I cleared my throat. “This place is in my name, and I’ve been covering the bills for it. I’ll need you to move out.”
“Excuse me? No. Okay, slow down. We can work this out. I mean, yes, we were both unfaithful and—”
“We?!” I gasped. “Jeff, I have been nothing but faithful to you.”
“Oh, please, Stella. Stop with the good girl act. You think I’m an idiot? You think I don’t see how you look at Damian? Or hell, how he looks at you? He stares at you like you’re the freaking sun. And you expect me to believe that you two haven’t been screwing this whole time?”
“Uh, yes because we definitely haven’t. I would never do that!” Plus, Damian didn’t look at me like that. He was just a friend.
Jeff pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re a damn liar! You’ve been screwing him from the jump, I’m sure. Because you are weak and can’t deny yourself the temptation. I mean, hell, Stella. You married a man when you had a boyfriend.”
“Because of you! You told me to do this. You told me to agree to this arrangement.”
“I was joking!” he remarked. “Why would I want my girlfriend of ten years to marry another man? Use your brain, Stella. I know that’s hard for you to do.”
He was gaslighting me. I felt it deep in my soul as he began to twist the whole situation of what had unfolded right before my eyes. He was making me the villain in our story when I’d been loyal to a fault to a man who clearly never loved me.
I parted my lips to speak, to defend myself, but I didn’t see a point. Some people were determined to misunderstand you in order to help clear their own guilt of the hurt they inflicted.
“Leave your keys on the counter. I’ll be back on my free day to go through some things,” I explained.
“Wow…” He blew out a cloud of hot air. “Just like that? You’re done with me? After all these years together? You’re really going to allow this man you’ve known for six weeks to walk in and ruin something that was so solid?”
“I don’t know if we were ever truly solid, Jeff.” If we were, we wouldn’t have crumbled so easily. It turns out longevity in a relationship meant nothing if love and trust weren’t a part of the equation. Millions of couples stayed together for a long time simply because too many days passed, and they thought that meant it was too late to go.
Mama and Kevin wouldn’t want that for me. They would’ve never wanted me to stay in a place where love didn’t exist.
“What about my loans?” he asked.
“What?”
“The money I took out and spent. I’m in a hell pile of debt, Stella.”
“I told you not to take that money out. That was never a part of the plan.”
“Okay, but you can’t leave me high and dry! You’re not a bitch like that.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re right. I’m not a bitch. But I’m also not responsible for your bad choices.”
“This isn’t you. It’s that asshole, isn’t it? You’re not confident or strong like you’re acting. That ass got in your head and is messing with your thoughts.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You’re saying I’m only standing up for myself because of Damian?”
“Absolutely.”
I stared at him, baffled by his words. Did he truly think so little of me? Did I really allow a man to believe such awful things about who I’d been? How could I have been so stupid thinking that what Jeff felt for me had even an ounce of love within it? If this was love, I’d rather have hate.
Then again, he wasn’t wrong, in a way. Damian did help me find the confidence that I didn’t even know I’d deserved to have.
“Leave the key, Jeff. I’ll be back in a few days.”
I turned to walk away, leaving the house with a pool of nerves in my stomach.
He chased me out to the street, shouting, “You’ll regret this! He’ll never actually give a shit about you. He’s just in it for the check, Stella. Then you’ll be left alone. I was doing you a service by loving you.”
My eyes watered over as I stared at him, stunned
by his coldness. Who was this monster I loved for the past ten years? “Goodbye, Jeff,” I whispered with a shaky voice.
He chuckled, baffled by my choice to still walk away. “Give him this word of advice: he should screw you with the lights off. It makes it easier to stomach all of your stomachs.”
I cried the whole way back home. Then I sat in my car and cried for a few more hours. I went to bed and cried for the remainder of the night.
The next morning, I found Damian in the dining room. He stood the second I entered the space. I must’ve looked as awful as I felt because his eyes were filled with sadness. I could almost feel the pity he was shooting my way through those irises.
“Hi there,” I softly spoke.
“Hello,” he replied.
“How was your outing with Denise?”
He grimaced.
Seemed about right.
“I’m sorry you had to grow up with these people. I get how they could mess up someone’s head. There was a lot of gaslighting going on with her toward the server.”
“Denise is good at making people think they are crazy,” I joked. “It probably explains some of my issues.”
“I hate her.”
“Don’t. Besides…she might be your mother.”
“Don’t care. Still hate her.” He glanced around, almost uncertain what to do or say next. He cleared his throat and scratched at his neck. “Are you all right? After your talk last night?”
“No.”
“Did you get any sleep?”
I shook my head. Tears burned at the back of my eyes. “No.”
“Don’t cry.”
“Okay.”
I cried.
He stepped closer. “You’re crying.”
“Sorry.”
“No apologies.”
“Okay.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tissue. “Figured you might cry, so I shoved these into my pocket.”
“Thanks.” I took it and wiped my eyes.
“Do you only have mostly one-word replies today?”
Western Waves Page 18
