Western Waves (Compass 3)

“Easier said than done when I have a library of memories that told me differently.”

28

Stella

Fifteen Years Old

* * *

“You cannot honestly be thinking about wearing that,” Catherine remarked as she walked into my bedroom to see the dress I’d picked to go the school dance in. It was yellow, Mama’s favorite color, of course, and it sat right above my knees.

I looked in the mirror and then over to Catherine. Kevin had been gone for the past week on a work meeting, so the house was filled with only Catherine and her negative thoughts about me.

Even though Rosalina and Denise were long gone, their negative thoughts still ran through my head more than I’d wished they would.

“What’s wrong with it?” I asked, knowing I should’ve never engaged but feeling a level of insecurity that I wasn’t sure what to do with. I thought I looked good. Pretty, even. Though, Catherine made sure to tell me otherwise.

“You look chubby in it. And your kneecaps are odd. Plus, it’s too short. Girls like you shouldn’t wear dresses that short. It’s not very lady-like of you. Also, you wouldn’t be able to walk in those heels if you tried for months without looking like a turkey in heels.”

My stomach began twisting up in knots as her words settled into my mind. Those words meant one thing to me and one thing only: you’re not good enough.

She walked over to me and placed her hand beneath my chin. She raised my head and frowned in disappointment. “And your face is covered in acne. Have you been keeping up with the skincare routine I created for you?”

“It’s over twenty steps each night,” I said, annoyed. “And some of the stuff burns when it sits on my skin.”

“Beauty is pain, Stella.” She eyed me up and down. “But it’s clear you haven’t experienced that much pain.”

I felt like crying as she looked my way. Did she realize it? How much her words hurt me?

“Why don’t you like me, Catherine?” I blurted out, feeling my emotions begin to overpower me. My body shook as I sat in front of her, staring into her eyes that looked nothing like mine. Tears fell down my cheeks as I parted my mouth. My words were shaky and unstable. “What did I ever do to you? Why am I never good enough for you?”

Catherine’s eyes flashed with emotions. I didn’t even know she’d been able to feel. She blinked them away. “Oh, sweetheart.” She cupped my face and placed her lips against my forehead. “I like you so much that I am brave enough to point out your flaws. That’s love, you know? Having someone who is willing to tell you the truth.”

She gave me ocean kisses, but they felt like a drought.

“Chin up,” she said, wiping away my tears. “And let me do your makeup for you. We’ll also pick out a better dress.”

She got me ready, changing every single angle about me, and applying what felt like a million layers of makeup. She put me in a black dress because she told me I shouldn’t want to stand out, too much. An oversized black potato sack of a dress that didn’t showcase my body at all. Then she stood me in front of the mirror and smiled at the creation she’d made.

“See? Isn’t that better?” she asked.

I frowned. “I look nothing like myself.”

“I know.” She tapped my nose and grinned ear to ear. “Exactly.”

29

Stella

Present Day

* * *

“Wow,” I breathed out, seeing Damian walk out of his bedroom looking as if he was voted as the Sexiest Man Alive for People magazine. He wore a white button-down shirt with a blue suede blazer over it. It was fitted perfectly to his toned figure, and he accessorized it with a gold watch and a leather bracelet, and two brown rings. His beard was trimmed perfectly, and his dark brown hair fell effortlessly into style on his head.

He looked remarkable.

“Wow,” he replied, looking my way.

I wore a blue suede dress, too, but it didn’t do for me the same thing it did for Damian. His eyes popped so much that he was almost hard to look at due to him being so striking.

“Stella, you look so beautiful,” he told me.

A wave of uncertainty found me as I tugged on my dress. “It’s too tight maybe?”

“Trust me,” he sighed in admiration as he walked over and placed his hands on my hips. “It’s not.”

“It’s a bit too showy. I don’t want to stand out too much. I should change.” I started to pull away from Damian, but he held me in place.

“Stella,” he whispered, pulling me closer to him. His lips fell against the nape of my neck, and his hot breaths melted against my skin as he gently kissed me. “Ignore the voices.”