Western Waves

by Brittainy Cherry

  “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.”

  I laughed. “You got it. I’ll run to the store.”

  “Thank you.”

  I got her comfortable on the living room couch with blankets, and I set up a romantic comedy for her to watch.

  “Call me if you need anything else from the store,” I told her, giving her a forehead kiss.

  “Thank you.”

  “Always.” I began to walk away, and Stella peeked over the edge of the couch and called out my name. “Yes?”

  “Maybe some tacos, too?”

  “You got it.”

  “Okay, thank you.” She slipped back down on the couch, then popped up again. “Oh, and Damian?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m so grateful for you.”

  I didn’t know if grown men could get butterflies, but if we could, they showed up every time she gave me any kind of compliments or words of affirmation. “I’ll be right back.”

  When I returned home, I was shocked to see Jeff’s car parked outside of our house. The front door was wide open and alarm hit me instantly as I rushed into the house at the sound of him shouting.

  “You’re drunk, Jeff,” Stella said shakily as she stood in the foyer, backed up against the staircase.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, shooting my stare toward Jeff, who was clearly blasted out of his mind. He was standing in front of Stella, looking insane. Within seconds, I stepped between the two of them and tossed him to the side. He stumbled backward, wasted out of his mind.

  “Screw you, dude. I’m here talking about my child with Stella. This has nothing to do with you,” he slurred.

  “It does when you get in her face.”

  “I’m not here for drama.” He shrugged, reminding me of the person he was when I first met him all those months prior. “All I’m saying is, I deserve a chunk of Stella’s money if she’s going to have this baby. The kid deserves the same quality of life when they stay with me.”

  “There’s no way the baby is going to stay with you if you’re this drunk, Jeff. You need help,” Stella calmly stated even though I could see the fear in her eyes.

  “Fuck off, Stella. This kid is mine, too.”

  “I know, and we can work with lawyers to—”

  “Screw your lawyers!” he shouted. “You think you get a right to tell me what I can do with my kid? You already took my last one away when you killed it, and now you’re trying to keep this one from me. Damn, Stella! After everything I did for you! I took out those loans for us. I borrowed all of this money for our future, and now you’re trying to start a new life with this dickhead with my kid!”

  “That’s not it at all, Jeff. You’re not thinking clearly,” Stella said, still trying to talk sense to his nonsense.

  “You’re not better than me, Stella,” he told her.

  She frowned. “That’s not what this is, Jeff. Listen, maybe you should rest and sober up a bit. I can get you water—” As she started for the kitchen, Jeff lunged toward her as if he was going to grab her. Before he could, I reacted without thought and slammed my fist into his face. He hit the ground and was knocked out.

  “Oh, my goodness!” Stella gasped with tears in her eyes.

  “Shit,” I muttered. I shook my head, staring down at Jeff. “I’m sorry, Stella. I just thought he was going to hurt you, and I reacted…”

  “It’s fine. Maybe we can put him in the back room for him to sober up. I didn’t want him to drive in that state anyway.”

  She was so caring even to those who didn’t deserve her gentleness.

  I carried Jeff to a back room and tossed him into the bed. He began to snore, which was a good enough sign of life for me.

  When I headed back to the living room to check on Stella, she was standing, filled with nerves as her hands moved up and down her forearms.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “What Jeff said about my previous pregnancy… I mean, I know you probably have all these thoughts about me and whatnot. But let me—”

  “Stella—”

  She held up a hand. “Wait. Please, let me explain myself. Jeff has wanted me to get pregnant for years. I’ve had trouble carrying to term and I have suffered many miscarriages. With my last one, there were clear signs of complications, and terminating the pregnancy was the best option. It still eats at me to this day, but I truly do believe I made the best choice I could at that time. I know you probably think the worst of me, but…” She stuttered over her words as her body began to shake.

  I walked over to her and took her hands in mine to calm her nerves. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. I made the choice to do it and—”

  “No. I mean, I’m sorry I gave you the impression that you’d ever have to explain your life choices to me. Whatever you did, you did it because you made a choice, which was yours to make. I would never judge you for that. I would never judge you for anything you’ve ever done, and I am sorry that you thought I would. I’m sorry you believed I was a man who would do that to you. Stella, you could do no wrong in my mind. I will do better in making that clear to you. I will be better for you.”

  Her eyes washed with emotions as she became choked up. “How do you do that?” she whispered as she looked up at me with her brown eyes. “How do you make the aching parts of me feel at peace?”

  “The same way you did it for me.”

  I set Stella up in my bedroom—our bedroom as of late—with a romantic comedy, then waited outside of the guest room where Je
ff was crashing. It took him hours to wake, but when he did, he grumbled about his headache. It could’ve been from my fist to his jaw or the alcohol he’d drowned himself in. Either way, he was in pain.

  “What the…?” he muttered, standing up and walking to the door. “What happened?”

  “You passed out,” I told him. “After treating Stella like shit.”

  “It’s been a long day. It’s not every day you find out you have a kid on the way.”

  “Yes, but there’s no excuse for how you spoke to her. You need help, Jeff.”

  “I know. That’s why I came here, to get money to pay off my loans and—”

  “I mean professional help for your drinking.”

  He shot me a harsh look. “Listen, guy. The last thing I need is for you to tell me what I need to do.”

  “I’m not trying to tell you what to do. But Stella? She’s pregnant, and that child deserves a father. Every child deserves a father, but that doesn’t mean every father deserves his child. Do better. Be better.”

  “I don’t have money to get help,” he said.

  “I’ll pay for any clinic you find. Money isn’t an issue.”

  He huffed. “You think you’re some kind of superhero, huh? You think you’re better than me?”

  “No. I don’t.”

  He raced his hands through his hair. “I need to talk to Stella.”

  “Not now. You need to go home and decide what you really want and how you want to be in this child’s life.”

  He grumbled but agreed. As he walked out the front door, I watched him from the front porch. I slid my hands into my pockets. “Jeff?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t ever show up to my house uninvited again, and if you ever take one too many steps toward Stella aggressively again, I will snap your neck in half.”

  He parted his mouth to reply, but no words came out.

  I wasn’t kidding, either. I’d break that man into two if it meant protecting Stella and that child.

  “Jeff, wait,” Stella said, appearing behind me. He looked up and waited for her commentary. She walked over to the table and grabbed her purse. “Do you want to be in this child’s life, or do you want money?”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Do you want to love this child, or would you rather have money?” she asked straightforward. She pulled out a checkbook. “Because if it’s money, I don’t want you to be in our child’s life. If you’re just looking for a quick way to get money, I don’t want that for this baby. So you can either be a part of our lives and be a father…or I can write you a check.”

  “Stella,” I warned.

  She held up a silencing hand.

  Jeff raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I’ll pay you to leave us alone. How much do you want?”

  He lowered his brows. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, but you’ll have to sign a contract, giving up the rights to raise the child. You won’t be in their life,” Stella told him.

  “Half a million,” he said without thought.

  I saw the color drain a bit from Stella’s face as the realization settled in that Jeff was nothing more than scum.

  I think her gentle heart had hoped for a different answer and a little bit of her light faded at that very moment. I hated that. I hated that her gentle heart was beginning to harden to the world. Don’t become like me, Stella. Stay forever you.

  She blinked a few times then began scribbling down the check. “I’ll give you half now and then half when the contract is signed.” She ripped the check out and held it toward Jeff.

  He took it without a moment’s thought and scurried away like the rat he was.

  As his car drove off, I turned toward Stella.

  “Are you okay?” I asked. “Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

  “I overheard you both talking,” she said with a smile that sadly looked more like a frown. “You were right. Every child deserves a father. Not every father deserves a child.”

  I took her hands in mine and pulled her closer to me. My forehead rested against hers. “Don’t let this harden you,” I whispered. “Don’t let people like Jeff harden your heart.”

  “How could my heart harden when it’s surrounded by you?”

  I heard her words but felt a slight bit of coldness. I knew what it felt like when a heart began to close. I kissed her forehead. Stay with me, Stella. “Do you want to go to the ocean with me?”

  She shook her head and placed her hands against her stomach. “No. I’m not feeling too well. I’m going to go to bed for a while.”

  That was the first night in the past months of knowing Stella that she didn’t step into the ocean. I hadn’t a clue why that brought me so much unease.

  33

  Stella

  * * *

  Damian didn’t know it, but it happened—my dam broke.

  I’d been feeling heightened anxiety for the past few weeks.

  Every pregnancy before this one started with the same type of fear: the possibility of losing the baby. What was even worse was this time, I didn’t feel right. It was almost as if I could feel my soul warning me of something awful that was on its way.

  For the past week, I felt a new level of anxiety that I couldn’t really uncover. I hadn’t gone to the water, and I didn’t even know why. Each morning I woke up feeling on the verge of tears, and each night I struggled to fall asleep.

  I stopped going to the ocean because every time I’d feel the waves hit my feet, an odd sadness fell against me. As if Mama’s love was so far away. Each wave felt more disconnected. Maybe it was me, maybe it was my mind. Either way, the calmness the water used to give to me was filled with more worry.

  Damian could tell something was off, but he didn’t know how to approach it. I didn’t blame him because I wasn’t even certain how I wanted to be approached. At first, I thought it was the idea of Jeff not being in the baby’s life, but that wasn’t it. Secretly, I felt a sense of relief from that fact.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about Mama and Kevin for the past few days. I felt as if a cloud of darkness was over me, and I wasn’t certain exactly what it meant. But I knew something was wrong.

  “Slow down your mind, baby girl,” Grams told me, giving me a neck massage as I sat at her dining room table.

  “I can’t, Grams. I just feel like something’s wrong.” I turned to face her and frowned. “Can you do a reading for me, maybe? Just a little tarot spread to let me know if everything’s going to be okay?”

  She frowned. “Stella, you know my rules. When one’s anxiety is high, we do not turn to our magic. We have to be aligned with ourselves to use our gifts. Besides after the last…” Her words fumbled off.

  “Miscarriages,” I said.

  She frowned, hating the conversation, but knowing that she’d seen me like this before. Every time before when I was pregnant, I had the same kind of fear. “Exactly,” she told me. “We just have to trust in the universe.”

  “The universe has screwed me over before,” I cut in.

  Grams eyes filled with concern for me. I tried my best to shake it off.

  “No, I know. I know, I’m probably worrying you, but I’m okay, Grams. But please, I just, I feel… please?” I begged. “Just one reading?”

  Her eyes filled with tears. Emotions swept over her as she took my hand in hers. “Everything’s going to work out for the greater good. Just believe that.”

  I pulled my hand away from her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Stella—”

  “Did you already do a reading on me?”

  She went silent.

  “Grams, tell me.”

  “Maybe we should go walk down the coastline. Put our feet in the ocean.”

  “I don’t want to put my feet in the ocean, Grams. What is it? What did you see?”

  She moved in to give me ocean kisses, but I pulled away.

  “No. I’m scared, Grams
. I’m scared. Tell me what you saw.”

  “You’re okay, Stella. You’re okay, and the baby’s okay.”

  “Then what are you avoiding telling me?”

  “Anything I tell you is just a possibility, anyway, sweet girl. Nothing is set in stone.”

  “It was last time you told me,” I said to her. “So, just tell me again.”

  “I saw how much hurt you went through with the last loss, Stella. I’ve seen your heartbreak, and I refuse to put any more of that doubt or fear into your system with these cards or silly readings.”

  “Now they’re silly?”

  “Yes,” she said sternly. “They are silly when you become dependent on them instead of self. You are okay. The baby is okay. My sweet child,” she placed her hands against my face and cradled it. “Be here now. Stop chasing a future that is currently still make-believe. Be here now.”

  She wouldn’t say what she’d seen. My stomach dropped, and I instantly felt ill. I stood from her chair and headed back toward my house, ignoring Grams as she called out my name. As I walked into the house, I found Damian in his office on a work call. The moment our eyes locked, he stood to his feet.

  “Let me call you back,” he told the person on the other line, then he hung up quickly.

  His arms were wrapped around me within seconds, and he held me tight as I cried into his arms.

  It took three more weeks.

  Three more weeks of anxiety. Three more weeks of panic attacks. Three more weeks of a heavy feeling of pain hovering around me before it happened.

  Lying in bed beside Damian, I felt a sharp pain in my side. As my breaths intensified, I sat up beside my sleeping husband, and my hand fell to my stomach. I turned on the lamp beside me and felt an overwhelming amount of fear as I stared down at the bedsheets to see red.

  Baby…

  “Damian,” I cried out, shaking his body with my trembling hands. “Damian, wake up.”

  He sat up and cleared his throat, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes. “You okay?” he asked.

  “Baby,” I whispered.