Western Waves (Compass 3)

“Kevin’s inability to love you had nothing to do with the amount that you were loveable. His inability to love you was not due to your worth. It was due to his damage. It wasn’t personal.”

“Maybe not,” she said, shrugging her shoulders as she pushed her purse strap up her arm. “But it sure as hell felt like it.”

She turned to leave, and I felt a punch in the pit of my gut as I went on to ask her the same question I’d asked the other two women. “Catherine?”

“Yes?”

“Are you my mother?”

Her eyes blinked a few times as she tilted her head in surprise by the directness of my words. She shook her head and let a small, sad smile slip out. “Even if I were, would you really want a wicked mother like me?” she asked. “Or like Denise or Rosalina? My advice for you? Stop trying to figure out who is your biological mother. Because sure, maybe they have your DNA, but at the end of the day, they’ll never be able to fill that gap in your chest. We will never live up to the idea of love that exists in your head. Trust me, I know. So, find something else to fill that spot.”

“I already did.”

“In Stella?”

“Yes. And you know what?”

“What’s that?”

“She loved you. Even though you could only see Sophie when you looked into her eyes, Stella saw you. Maybe in a way Kevin could not. She loved you.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because that’s what Stella does. She loves.”

I saw it for a second. A flash of softness raced past Catherine’s eyes, a realization fell into her. “She wasn’t Sophie?”

I shook my head. “She wasn’t.”

She cleared her throat as more tears streamed down her cheeks. “I was cruel to her. Every time I was able to be, I was cruel to her.”

“And still, she loved you.”

She looked away from me for a moment, trying to pull herself together.

I used that moment to hopefully get an inch more of gentleness from Catherine. “Stella’s on bed rest.”

“What?”

“The pregnancy is high risk, and she needs me to be there for her to look after her. I’m certain she’s scared, and I can’t respond to her. I’m not asking you to let me go, Catherine. I get it, you got this far, and it only makes sense to follow through. I don’t give a shit about the money. All I need is to let Stella know I’m okay. Please get my phone and text her that I’ll be home soon.”

Home wasn’t a building; it was a person. I couldn’t wait to return home to her.

Catherine hesitated but walked over to my phone on the countertop and asked me for my password to unlock it. I told her, and she went to my messages from Stella.

The color drained from Catherine’s face, and seeing her reaction made my own heart almost stop.

“Oh no,” she whispered.

My chest tightened. “What is it? Is she okay?”

“Yes, I mean, maybe, I mean…” She took a deep breath and shook her head. “Maple’s in the ICU unconscious.”

No.

It couldn’t be.

“Catherine, please,” I begged, feeling a wave of despair hit my chest. I wasn’t sure if it was Stella’s or my own. We’d grown so close that I swore my soul could feel hers aching. “Let me go.”

It was only a few seconds. If I blinked, those seconds could’ve shifted into something else.

But it didn’t. I held her stare with mine so she could see the severity of what was happening. “Mom, please,” I whispered. “Let me go.”

I knew it was her. I knew out of all three of them, Catherine was the one who brought me into the world. Truthfully, I’d known for a while.

“Why did you call me that?” she asked, her voice shaky, her eyes wide.

“Because you are my mother.”

“No…I…” Tears fell from her eyes. “How did you…?”

“Many reasons, but mainly it was your charity. You opened a charity for foster kids, probably due to the guilt you felt giving me up. You felt guilt when I told you Stella was having struggles with her pregnancy because I think you’ve been there before. Then there’s the biggest thing.”

“And that is?”

“I have your eyes.” I shifted a little and pleaded with her. “Please, Catherine,” I begged. “If there is any ounce of humanity left in you, if there is any good still in your heart…please…let me go.”

“Fuck,” she muttered to herself. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she mumbled before she began scrambling to grab the key to the handcuffs on the countertop. She walked over to me and began unhooking the metal against my wrists.

“No one should use that bathroom for a while,” Denise said, walking back into the room. The moment she saw what was happening, she rushed toward Catherine. “What the hell are you doing?”

Catherine shoved Denise hard, making her fall backward. “Oh hush, woman,” she hissed. She then began to untie my ankles, releasing me from my chains. I stood and grabbed my phone. Catherine looked at me with eyes filled with regret. “I’m so sorry, Damian.”