Western Waves (Compass 3)
He huffed. “You should’ve charged more. You’re worth more than that.”
My heart did that skipping thing again.
“Have you handed out QR codes to the individuals coming in and out of the space?”
“No. I told them my website where they can purchase pieces, though.”
He frowned in disappointment. “People are lazy. Even worse than their laziness, they have the focus of toddlers. Society would convince you that humans grow out of the toddler stage of life, but honestly, they just get taller and still act like children. They need things to be right in their faces, or their focus shifts.”
“I agree. But, with the short notice of the show—”
“Next time come to me,” he offered. “I have one of the best assistants in the world. He can get everything done for you.”
“I… wow. Damian, thank you. That’s a truly amazing offer.”
“Business cards.”
“What?”
“Do you have business cards?”
“No… not yet.”
He sighed and muttered something under his breath. Damian cleared his throat and slid his hands back into his pockets. Just then, a few individuals walked through the front door. His stare shifted toward them.
“I can look around on my own. You go entertain your guests,” he said.
“Right, of course. Well, if you need anything, you know where to find me.”
“Newsletters,” he replied.
I arched an eyebrow. He sighed. “Get them to sign up for your newsletter.”
“I don’t have a newsletter.”
“You will after today. Jot their emails down on a piece of paper.”
I smiled his way and did as he said. Everyone who came afterward shared their email addresses with me when they entered. I was thankful for the small collection I’d received. Damian stayed the whole time for the gallery, keeping to himself and studying each piece for an extended period of time as if they were telling him a whole story.
When the event ended, he was the last one there, outside of the other artists and me.
He walked my way and smoothed out his suit. “Thank you for having me, Stella.”
“Thank you for coming. It means a lot to me.”
His mouth parted as if he had something more to say, but he shut it. Then followed up his unspoken words with, “I will see you once you’re home.” He pushed open the front door.
“Damian, wait. What were you going to say?”
“Nothing. It’s none of my business.”
“What’s none of your business?”
“Stella, it doesn’t matter.”
“But if it mattered to me?” I urged.
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck with the palm of his hand. “Where is Jeff?”
“I… I’m not sure.” I felt the emotions hitting my eyes as it set in that I had my first gallery show, and Jeff didn’t show up. “I’m sure something came up.”
“Don’t cry.”
“I’m a Pisces sun, Cancer moon, and Gemini rising, Damian.”
“I have no clue what the hell you just said,” he deadpanned. “But it sounded very Maple-like.”
“Very Maple-like indeed.” I snickered at his confusion. “It just means that crying is kind of what I do.”
“At least waste your tears on something that matters.”
I pushed out an emotional smile and wiped my tears away. “Have a good night, Damian.”
He turned to open the door once more and then looked back at me, letting it close again. “I know we started off on the wrong foot, and I know I am not the easiest of persons to ever get to know. I’m not a good person, but… you are. You’re worth showing up for, Stella. Anyone who doesn’t show up for you doesn’t deserve your tears.”
He exited the gallery, leaving me with a wild heart and a few remaining tears.
Marie walked over to me and smiled. “Seriously, Stella. Your boyfriend is so hot.”
“That’s not my boyfriend.”
“Oh?”
“It’s my husband.”
Within seconds, I was calling his name. “Damian, wait!” I exclaimed, racing out of the building toward him. He turned to look at me, and he looked devastatingly hurt in those ocean blues of his. His expression surprised me a little as I walked closer to him. “Wait, what’s wrong?”
He cleared his throat and shook his head. “Nothing.”
“You’re lying. What’s wrong? Are you okay?” I asked. Without thought, my hand landed on his forearm. He looked down at our touch, then raised his head to look at me. He appeared on the verge of showing more emotion than I knew was possible to receive from him.
His lips parted, and he flicked his thumb against the bridge of his nose. “You’re a good person, Stella.”
My heartbeats… momentarily controlled by him.
“Thank you, Damian.”
“No.” He shook his head. “You don’t understand. You’re a really good person. You see the good everywhere and in everyone, but they don’t all deserve it.”
“Damian—”
“You’re a good person, who cares, and not that fake bullshit kind of care that people pretend to have, but you love people, so deeply, and that’s why this pisses me off so much because a lot of bad things happen to good people, but they shouldn’t happen to people like you. And I know Maple told me I was capable of not being blunt, but I don’t know how not to be blunt with this, and that pisses me off, too.”