41
Stella
* * *
One Saturday afternoon, I was surprised by a visitor I didn’t expect at all.
“Aaliyah, what are you doing here?” I asked as she stood on my front porch. “Oh, my goodness! Your baby!” I swooned, looking into the car seat she was carrying. My heart burst into emotions as I looked down at the beautiful baby before me.
“Just over six weeks old now. Can we come in?” she asked.
“Of course, come on,” I said, gesturing for her to enter the space.
I closed the door behind me and then led the two to the living room. “Is it okay if I hold him? Can I get you some water? Oh gosh, let me wash my hands first,” I said, walking over to the kitchen. I washed my hands, grabbed a glass of water, and then went back to the living room.
“Here you go,” I said, handing her the water. I sat beside her as she placed the glass on the table, then she began unbuckling her bundle of joy from the car seat. She lifted him up from the seat and then placed him in my arms. “He’s perfect,” I said, feeling overwhelmed. I knew I cried easily before, but now with being pregnant, all the emotions hit me that much harder.
“He really is something else. Grant Damian Roe,” she said. “My sun and moon.”
I knew his first name was Grant, after a man who seemed to be a father figure to Aaliyah as she grew up. But they gave him Damian’s name, too. That was enough to get my emotions going as little Grant wrapped his hand around my thumb.
“You miss him,” Aaliyah mentioned.
Every day, I thought to myself.
I smiled at her, and she could read my answer without me saying a word out loud.
“He misses you, too,” she swore.
That made my chest ache. It had been two weeks since I’d last seen Damian, and my mind had been racing every single day. I’d wanted to reach out to him, call him, tell him how much I wanted him to come back home. To come back to me. But I couldn’t do it. I had my own child to think of now. I couldn’t have Damian in his life, and then when things got rocky, he’d run away.
“Not that I’m not happy to see you, Aaliyah, because I am, but what are you doing here?”
“I’m staying here with you. Well, at least until things smooth out. You’re seven months pregnant, Stella, and I’m sure you could use a friend over these next two months. So, since I’m on maternity leave from work, and Connor is helping Damian with the real estate company over the next few months, I figured I could stop in and help you out. I know Maple is here for you, too, but I figured another friendly face couldn’t hurt.”
“You don’t have to do that, Aaliyah,” I said, feeling my voice shake. “I don’t want to take up your time.”
“You’re right. I don’t have to do this, but I want to. Besides, I owe Damian. Remember when he stayed by my side when Connor and I were going through a rough patch? Well, this is me returning the favor.”
I lowered my head.
Aaliyah gave me a comforting smile. “You’re scared.”
“Yes.”
“You’re scared because you know what happens…people and things leave. Like your mother and Kevin.”
“It has nothing to do with them,” I said.
“I think it does. The people you loved the most are gone, and then you had the bad people like your ex and your stepmothers, who probably told you that you didn’t deserve love. Plus, the miscarriages… It hurts when love is taken away from you.”
I stared down at the beautiful baby boy looking up at me. “I never knew real love could hurt so deeply from the idea of it going away. And now…with my baby, and with Damian…I’m scared, Aaliyah. If I lose them…if they are taken away…” My eyes shut as tears rolled down my cheeks. “I can’t keep losing the people I love.”
“That’s the thing about life…” Aaliyah wiped my tears away and cupped my face in her hands. “With every life’s story comes an ending. We all start the same way and end with the same fade to black. But the most important part, the most meaningful times, aren’t at the beginning and end of the stories. It’s the content we create in the middle. It’s the moments that become memories and the small things that become our greatest stories. It’s the way we love and the way we are loved. Life isn’t about the beginning and end. It’s about all the good things in-between. That’s what makes it worth it. That’s why we love. For the in-between.”
“I’m scared, Aaliyah. I’m so unbelievably scared.”
“I know.” She took Grant from my arms and placed him in his car seat. Next, she took my hands in hers and squeezed them. “That’s why you need friends to stand next to you and make sure you’re able to get to the other side. This is just a part of the story where things look a little dark, but in the end, everything’s going to be okay.”
“How is he?” I asked.
“He misses you.” She smiled. “But he’s okay. He told me to tell you something, too.”
“What’s that?”
“That you’re more than enough.”
Aaliyah stayed with me for days, taking care of both Grams and me. She went above and beyond while still raising a child of her own. Connor, of course, stayed in the house, too, being the father and husband that Aaliyah deserved.
Watching them both together only made my heart long for Damian even more. When Saturday came, I’d find a package of blueberry scones on my front porch with a note.
* * *
Still here, Cinderstella.
Always here.
-Beast
* * *
For the first time in a while, I found myself standing at the coastline, watching as the waves moved in and out. I took a deep breath as my swollen ankles felt the kisses of the ocean washing over me. I knew exactly why I’d avoided the ocean for the past few weeks. The ocean stood as comfort. The ocean calmed my soul. The ocean was Mama’s way of reminding me that everything was going to be okay.
A part of me was certain I didn’t deserve that comfort. Another part of me believed that the waves were filled with lies after all the heartbreak and fear I’d experienced, but the truth of it all was no matter how afraid I’d been, I still deserved comfort. I deserved to have something to lean into when I was scared, something to feel, touch, experience when I was at my lowest point.
Especially then.
“Mama, I don’t know how to do this,” I whispered, lowering myself to a sitting position. My toes dug into the sand as I stared out into the afternoon. “I don’t know how to feel everything without feeling insane. I became good at faking happiness. I’ve become great at putting on a mask and being sure that everyone around me felt good so they wouldn’t even have the opportunity to notice that my own happiness was a mirage. I don’t know where to start or what to do…so help me, Mama. Help me figure out how to understand my emotions…help me find peace.”
The waves splashed against me as tears fell down my cheeks. I sat there for hours, uncertain what to do, or how to move forward. Then a nudge of comfort hit my mind.
The letter.
I opened my eyes as those two words hit my mind. “The letter,” I muttered to myself, slowly pulling my toes from beneath the sand.
I stood and headed back to my bedroom. I grabbed the envelope that had been sitting on my nightstand since the beginning of November.
Sitting in my hands was the letter that was given to me the day of Kevin’s funeral. The same letter I hadn’t been able to bring myself to read since it was given to me. As I unfolded the letter within the envelope, I held my breath. It felt like I was saying goodbye to the only father I’d ever known. Yet, I felt as if it was also the key to me being able to ease some of the heaviness resting against my soul.
Stella,
I’ve had to write a lot of letters to different individuals, but this one is the hardest because it is going to the most important person of all. If I know you, and I believe I do, you’ll probably push this letter to the side for a while. You’ll feel that if you open it, you’ll be for
ced to face the fact that I am truly gone. But, you’ll open it at some point. I bet it’s exactly at the right time, too.
I snickered to myself as I read his words. As I studied his cursive. As I missed his physical existence. I kept reading.
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.”
“His gallery?”
“Yeah. He told me about his photography and pulled together a showcase to share his work. I was on my way there now. It’s the last night.”
“Do you think maybe I could join you?” I asked.
He smiled. “Of course. I would not mind at all, and I doubt he would either. Let’s go.”
I followed Peter’s car as I drove my own and felt the butterflies sitting heavily in the pit of my stomach. He did it? He actually put together his own show?
I was so proud of him and angry with myself for almost missing such an experience.
Stupid, stupid girl afraid of losing love.
I was so afraid that I chose to throw away the best thing that had ever happened to me.
As I pulled up to the building, my heart skipped a few beats as I stared at the sign over the door for the showcase.
Cinderstella—A Romantic Comedy.
Oh my goodness…
I climbed out of the car and stood in front of the building, awestruck as I stared at the sign.
Peter stepped beside me and smiled. “Pretty neat, huh?”
“How did he pull this together so quickly?”
“He didn’t. He’s been telling me about this idea for months now. He had this sign ordered back in February. He told me he never wanted to showcase his work because he never had a good enough subject to show off. Then he found you.”
I couldn’t produce any words. I couldn’t fathom what I’d done by pulling away from Damian for the past few weeks when this was who he truly had always been. Damian Blackstone was the definition of love—and he was in love with me.
I hoped, at least.
I couldn’t blame him if he wasn’t anymore.
We walked inside the building, and I gasped as I witnessed photographs of Damian’s work mixed in with Kevin’s photography of me. There were photos of me as a child, of my mother being pregnant with me, of me laughing. Of me dancing in the ocean. Photographs of me holding my stomach when I didn’t know I was being photographed. Pictures of me being goofy with Damian. Photographs of us, of our story, of love.
I was on the verge of tears staring at each photograph and reading the commentary beside each piece. Damian’s words about me were enough to make the tears fall. As I stood in front of a photograph of me laughing as I held a blueberry scone in my hand, I read the words beside it.
Beauty in its truest form.
“It’s true,” a voice said from behind me. I turned to see Damian standing there, dressed in a black suit, looking perfect beyond words. “You are beauty in its truest form.”
My lips parted, but no words came out at first. I tried again, and it cracked. I tried once more but found myself flying into Damian’s arms instead.
He welcomed me, too. He welcomed me into his arms, into his embrace without a moment of hesitation. He wrapped me up against him, allowing me to melt against his chest.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “I pushed you away because I was afraid of letting you in even more. Because I feared losing you, but I need you, Damian. I need you more than words can express. And I understand if you aren’t okay with coming back after what I’ve done. But I just need you to know I love you more than I’ve ever loved another and—”
“Stella?”
“Yes?”
He placed his hands around my face and lifted my head to find his blue eyes.
Ocean blues…
Waves of peace…
“I love you, too.”
I never understood grief completely. I never understood that having grief was a sign that you were able to love so deeply. It wa
s truly amazing that a heart could still beat after you lost your loved ones. But that heart still had love within it, and it searched for any and every way to still feel after your loved one was gone. Even if the feelings you felt were pain.
I was now learning that any feeling that encircled love was worth feeling. Even the hard emotions because it was a reminder of how real, and how deep love could be.
Grief was hard but coming out of it was the greatest gift because you looked at the world in a different way.
It wasn’t about the happily ever after. It was about the happily ever now. Right then and there. It was about living in the moment and celebrating the joy of each day. Real love happened in the present tense, not in the past or future. It happened in every single passing second. It happened every time I was near him.
Damian was it for me. He was the promise of love that I had been searching my whole life to discover. He was the happy days and the sad. The beauty and the pain. The ups and the downs. Damian Blackstone was my world. My biggest and greatest universal blessing.
42
Damian
* * *
“Why were you not afraid that she wouldn’t come back?” Maple asked me during our now weekly cat-piss-tea-drinking sessions. “When I met you, you had a wall built, and the old you would’ve left and never looked back. What changed?”
I smiled and shrugged. “The Stella effect. Plus, I saw it, you know. Her fear from the idea of losing you or me. I knew that fear because it lived so long within me. My hurt noticed hers, and I was more than willing to be patient.”
“Thank you, Damian,” she said, taking my hand in hers. “For not running away. Thank you for staying.”
Western Waves Page 29