Western Waves (Compass 3)

I feel as if I owe you the deepest of apologies because I’ve failed you. I’ve failed you time and time again by bringing women around who were not worthy of knowing you. I searched day in and day night for this missing piece, and for some reason, I thought it existed within Denise, Rosalina, and Catherine. In parts, it did. Sometimes it was seen in the way they laughed or the way they dressed. Sometimes, in the way they drank their glasses of wine or the way they danced. There were mere snippets of what I was searching for, and I tried to force it to be something that it wasn’t. I tried to create a love story in a place where true love didn’t exist.

In those women, I’d hoped to find her—your mother. My true love, my best friend.

I was searching for her heartbeats because I’d missed them each day. I was searching for a partner to make my heart skip the way she had. It became clear how toxic and hurtful that had been not only to the women who I tried to use to recreate that feeling but also to the little girl who was forced into proximity with said women. A part of me believes that they all knew I was searching for your mother within them, and their bitterness toward you was probably a response to that. I apologize for the damage I’ve caused. I apologize for the years of trauma that may have led you to experience yourself.

I see how hard you work to get the approval of others. I see how you push your own emotions to the side because you believe that if you were your full self that you’d become unlovable, but Stella, you are the definition of love. You are the reason people believe in happily ever afters.

When I realized that I loved your mother, it was too late. I was preparing to leave Catherine the first time we were together, and then the accident happened with Sophie. I was going to tell her everything. I was going to give her all the words she truly deserved to hear. Yet, I was too much of a coward to put myself out there in fear that she didn’t feel the same way. I was afraid if I told her of my love, there was a chance that I’d lose my best friend, along with you.

Never telling your mother I loved her was the greatest regret of my life.

I was so afraid of what would happen tomorrow if she didn’t love me back, and I hate that it has taken me so long to realize that that isn’t why we love. We don’t love for tomorrow; we love for today. For this moment, right here and right now. We love because it’s the easiest, and scariest thing we could ever do.

So, I made this arrangement for you to marry my son, Damian. The son I was never given the chance to know. The son that I’ve learned had a good heart, even though it can appear a bit cold. I wanted you to be around him because I figured he could help you learn to feel your real emotions. I also figured that you were the closest thing to me, and that maybe through him getting to know you, he’d been able to learn a little bit about how I would’ve loved him.

The greatest parts of me live within you, Stella Maple.

I don’t know what will happen with you and Damian, but I hope it works out. I hope you find yourself surrounded by such real love that you can’t help but allow it in. I hope you discover yourself and heal from the damage I may have caused. Hell, Stella, I hope you break up with that jackass of a boyfriend who wasn’t anywhere near good enough for you.

But mostly, I hope you don’t give up on love—even when it frightens you.

You deserve it most.

I love you like the ocean. Deep, and full.

I’m sorry it took me so long to hear it, but I can hear your mother when I listen to the waves.

She’s always been here, and now I’ll join her.

When you feel the waves, I hope you’re able to feel me, too.

Always,

Dad

I wiped my tears away and read his words over and over again. Don’t give up on love. Even when it frightens you. I couldn’t stop thinking about Damian. I couldn’t stop longing for his touch, his eyes, him. It didn’t take me long to find myself in my car, driving down to his office, because I knew I couldn’t let another day pass without holding him close to me.

“I’m sorry, Stella, he’s not here,” Peter told me around six in the afternoon. “He’s actually at his gallery.”