Western Waves (Compass 3)

I crossed my arms, feeling a bit chilled as concern hit me. “What’s wrong? It’s cold out here. What are you doing?”

He frowned and pulled out something from his pockets. White flowers. “I was talking to the ocean. I was going to give it some offerings and ask that they keep you safe.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You speak to the ocean?”

“Only for you.” Walking over to me, he took my hands in his and stared down at our interlocked fingers. “I know today is hard, but I wasn’t kidding when I said it before. Whatever happens, whatever the outcome, I’m all in,” he repeated, making me fall so much more for him.

“Even if it’s Jeff’s?” I asked with a tremble in my voice. Saying those words stung my soul.

“Even if.”

“Damian?”

“Yes?”

“I’m in love with you.”

“Do you want to know a secret?”

“Yes.”

His eyes softened more than I’d ever seen them do. There was a gentleness in his stare as he kissed the palm of my hand. “I think I’ve been in love with you before I even knew what love was.”

No part of me wanted to see Jeff. When I reached out to him, he was cold toward me but agreed to allow me to stop by his new apartment. The place was in a sketchy neighborhood, and a pool of guilt settled into my stomach as I walked inside.

“Welcome to paradise,” Jeff joked, gesturing around his studio apartment. It was a mess. There were liquor bottles and beer cans scattered across the small kitchen counter. Old pizza boxes were piled on the coffee table, and the bed was unmade. There was a stack of scratched-off lottery tickets that I was almost certain were all duds.

“Are you okay, Jeff?” I asked. I wished I didn’t care, but I couldn’t help it. He appeared drunk, but at least he wasn’t slurring his words.

“What do you want, Stella?” he grumbled, flopping down onto his tiny loveseat. I sat on the chair across from him, hugging my bag.

“I, well, I have news.”

“Out with it.”

I took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”

He raised an eyebrow. “With me or that asshole?”

“It’s yours.”

“How can you be sure? You were, after all, sleeping with us both at the same time.”

“What? No, I wasn’t.”

“Please, Stella. I’m not an idiot.” He stood from his seat and moved to the fridge to pull out a beer. “It was clear as day that you two were screwing from the jump.”

“Stop it, Jeff. That’s not true at all. You were the unfaithful one, not me.”

“So, how long did it take you to mourn our ten years together? Did you screw him that same night? Maybe a week later? Two? Wait. Are you going to sit here and pretend that you aren’t sleeping with him?”

My lips parted, but no words came out.

Jeff cracked open his beer. “Exactly.” He chugged it.

I stood from the chair. “Listen, I just wanted to notify you of the pregnancy. I don’t know if you want any involvement in this, but there it is. We can talk in the future about how you’d like to be involved if you want to be at all.”

He rolled his eyes. “Here comes passive-aggressive Stella to the stage, folks.”

He felt so bitter, so cold. I stared at him, wondering how I ever thought he was the road to my happily ever after.

“I’m not going to do this right now, Jeff.”

“Then leave.”

“I will.” I pulled my purse strap up my arm and headed for the front door. As I opened it, I felt chills race down my spine as he spoke.

“You could always do what you did when we were fifteen, you know. Seemed easy enough for you back then.”

Those words stung a part of my soul, but he knew when he said them that they would. “When did you become so cruel, Jeff?”

“I’ve always been me, Stella,” he replied. “You chose to ignore it. And if you think for a second a man like Damian will stay faithful to a woman like you, you really are naïve. People don’t stay in love with people like you. They always leave. You’re nothing more than a paycheck for people.”

Just like that, I could feel the dam within me beginning to crack.

32

Damian

* * *

Stella appeared in my office doorway, looking defeated. I pushed my chair back from my desk and gave her a small smile, knowing today was a hard day for her.

“Hi there,” she whispered, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hello.” I stood to my feet and slid my hands into my pockets. “What do you need?”

She sighed and rubbed her hands against her face. “A hug?”

Easy enough.

I pulled her close to me, and she snuggled into my body. Her head rested against my shoulder, and she closed her eyes as she spoke. “And maybe pickles with chunky peanut butter?” she said so innocently. “The spear kind of pickles, not the whole ones. I know everyone says they taste the same, but they definitely do not.”