Western Waves (Compass 3)

I rubbed my shoulder as nerves hit me. “What about us? Remember, I’d have to live with Damian for the six months’ time.”

“We’ll figure it out. You said you get two days away, so those will be our days together. Then you can have those other days staying with Dan.”

“Damian.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” He laughed. “For once in your life, Stella, stop doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Overthinking. You aren’t going to have all the answers right away. That’s not how life works. Sometimes, you just have to leap and trust it will work out in the end. So, do this. Leap. If not for you, then for your family.”

That night, we headed to bed, and I stayed up doing what Jeff asked me not to do—overthinking. He snored beside me as the room remained pitch black around me. I glanced at my phone to see it was already three in the morning.

After chewing on my nails for far too much time, I pulled out the card that Damian had given me earlier that day, put his number into my phone, and shot him a text message.

Stella: Okay, I’m in.

Damian: Who is this?

Stella: Stella.

Damian: Who the hell is Stella?

I sighed. Somehow, he managed to be just as cold via text message as in person.

Stella: Cinderstella.

Damian: Oh. Right. My favorite Disney princess.

I could feel the sarcasm flying from his message.

Stella: Shut up. I’m just saying I’m agreeing to this arrangement.

Damian: Oh.

Damian: Okay.

Staring at his text messages, I was able to envision his lifeless expressions as he replied to me. I didn’t take his short remarks personally because he didn’t know me, and I didn’t know him. There was no way it could’ve been personal at all. We were mere strangers. I had a good feeling Damian was cold to the whole world. Therefore, I shouldn’t have taken his chills to heart.

Stella: So… Next steps?

Damian: I’ll arrange a meeting with Joe. We’ll get everything organized from there. I’ll be in touch shortly.

Stella: Okay, thank you.

Damian: Do I have your word that you’ll go through with it?

Stella: Yes. Of course.

Damian: How much does your word stand for?

What an odd question to ask.

Stella: What do you mean?

Damian: Many people’s word means shit. They give their word but then take it back. I don’t fuck around with taker-backers, so if you aren’t fully committed to this, do not agree to it and make it a pain in my ass situation with this back-and-forth talk. So, again, how much does your word stand for?

My heart was skipping beats as I read his message. A strong tug at my chest made it hard to take inhalations. Why did this stranger make me feel so much?

Stella: My word means everything.

Damian: I hope that’s true.

Stella: And sorry for texting so late. I hope I didn’t wake you. Are you a night owl?

He didn’t reply. It seemed he wasn’t much for small talk.

I placed my phone back down on the nightstand, but instead of falling asleep, I stared into the darkness of the night, thinking about how my life was about to do a one-eighty.

Mrs. Blackstone.

I hated how that name was going to be mine, even if only temporarily.

My hope, dream, and greatest wish was to one day take on Jeff’s last name and be his wife. But first, it appeared I had to make a last-name stop as Blackstone. A name extremely fitting for a man whose spirit was just as dark and personality cold as stone.

The next morning, I awakened to the doorbell ringing. Jeff grumbled and pushed his pillow over his head to tune out the sound. “Get that,” he muttered before rolling onto his side.

Out of the two of us, it was clear I was the morning person. To be fair, Jeff spent most of his nights DJing until the sun rose. He excelled with the moonbeams as I danced beneath the sun.

Still, the sun was hardly up as the doorbell rang repeatedly.

I slipped into my morning robe and poop emoji slippers that Jeff bought me for Christmas last year and headed to the front door of our duplex. I didn’t know why, but Jeff thought the slippers were the funniest thing in the world. They were comfortable, no denying.

To my surprise, I found the one person I thought I’d never see on my side of town.

“Catherine.” I tightened the belt on my robe as bewilderment hit me. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello, Stella. I was hoping we could talk.”

I glanced at the grandfather clock sitting in my living room. “It’s only five thirty in the morning.”

“Yes, well, you can imagine I haven’t been sleeping much lately.”

“Understandable, but how did you know where I live?”

“Let’s not do the small talk thing. I don’t want to take up too much of your time.” She glanced back to her car parked on the street. “Is my car safe in this neighborhood?”