The Stars Landing Deviant

by Jessica Gadziala

  I took a deep breath. As much as I was glad Dane was in some sort of discomfort, I didn't want everyone else to keep worrying about me. I reached for the door and silently walked inside, stopping in the doorway to the sitting room.

  "Jesus," Emily's voice greeted me with wide eyes and I had a rush of insecurity about my appearance. I was covered in dirt from head to toe, my hair felt stringy and greasy, my eyes were swollen from crying.

  Everyone's eyes followed Emily's and I was met with a look of concern from James, confusion from Devon, and absolute relief from Dane.

  "Cordy," he breathed out, starting toward me then stopping himself. "Are you okay?"

  Nope. Not at all. Not even the tiniest bit. You asshole. "Yup. I'm fine," I said, trying to sound calm, turning my lips up into a hint of a smile.

  "Cordelia," James said, his voice slow, like he was talking to a scared child. "What happened to you?"

  "Where are your shoes?" Devon added.

  I looked down at my bare feet, filthy and smeared with dried blood. That was just great. I was probably going to die of infection. "I was in the woods," I supplied simply.

  "Overnight?" James asked.

  "Yup."

  They all shared a look. It was a look like they thought maybe I had lost my mind. Dane turned back to me, walking slowly and reaching out to touch my arm. I shrank away from his touch, taking a step back into the entryway. "Don't," I said quietly.

  "Okay," he said, his brows drawing together, holding his hands up. "Let's go upstairs," he suggested, "and get you cleaned up. Okay?"

  I shook my head, moving past him, careful not to so much as brush him. "I'll go upstairs," I corrected. "And I will get myself cleaned up." I stepped up onto the first step and raised my chin, looking down at him. Behind him, everyone else had come into the hall. "You," I said, my tone venomous, "can go straight to hell."

  Then I ran. Up to my room. I grabbed clothes and slammed into my bathroom, locking the door. I couldn't breathe. Of course when I was alone and fully capable of falling apart all by my lonesome with no one to witness it, I couldn't. But now, with a room full of people downstairs questioning my sanity, I was crumbling.

  I stripped out of my clothes, running the water in the tub but not putting the stopper in. I climbed in and sat, grabbing the nozzle and running it over me until the water stopped running brown. I scrubbed up and washed four times. Like if I tried hard enough, I could scrub it all away. I filled the tub with scalding water and sat there, arms encircling my legs, my head resting on my knees.

  I needed to get it together. I needed to shake it off. Because I wasn't going to run away. I wasn't going to quit. I wasn't going to let him win. So I needed to climb out of the tub, put on my big girl panties, and pull up a guard. Something strong as armor. Impenetrable.

  He was never going to hurt me again.

  I slipped into a blue tank top and jeans. I brushed my hair, my teeth. I rolled the tension out of my neck and shoulders. I stared at my reflection, my eyes empty, my mouth in a determined line.

  "You got this," I whispered to myself, taking a breath and going back into my room.

  I froze the second I opened the door, wanting to take a step back and slam the door.

  Because there was Dane, standing next to my bed, behind him the window was wide open.

  "Breaking and entering is a crime," I said, moving with determination toward my phone. Like that had been the plan. Not like I was trying to not have to look at him.

  "Cordy... what's going on? What the hell happened to you?"

  I glanced down at my phone, ten missed calls, fifteen texts. I was popular when I was missing.

  All that time in the tub I should have been making a plan about how to handle the Dane situation. I should have made a monologue. I should have planned for it. "I came to see you at the bar," I said, not looking at him yet.

  "I was there, baby," he said and I wanted to cry again. "I would have seen you."

  "I was there," I said, turning to face him, my chin lifted, "and so were you."

  "Okay," he said, brows drawing together. "Why didn't you come talk to me?"

  I let out a short humorless laugh. "I would have," I said, my tone hauntingly hollow, "but you were otherwise engaged."

  "Baby you can always..."

  "With a strawberry blond," I spat.

  "Oh," he said, his face falling.

  "Yeah," I smiled cruelly. "Oh."

  "It's not...

  "Really? It's not?" I asked, rolling my eyes. "Because it really looked like she was embracing you. Then kissing you."

  "I can expl..."

  "Was she your new doctor?" I asked. "Is sticking her tongue in your mouth some new way to check your tonsils or something?"

  "Her tongue wasn't in my mouth."

  "Oh please, Dane. Don't try to tell me what I saw. I was there. I saw it. And fine. Whatever. I'm over it. But you're never..."

  "Shut up," he said, his tone low and sad, effectively making my mouth snap shut. "You don't understand..."

  "Damn right I..."

  "I said shut up," he said again, sitting down on the edge of my bed like his legs couldn't hold his weight anymore. "I need to talk to you."

  "Well that's just too damn bad, Dane," I said, crossing my arms over my chest, "because I don't want to talk to you."

  "Fine then just... fucking listen." I opened my mouth to say something and closed it. I might as well let him give me his flimsy excuses. His apologies. Get it out of the way.

  "Alright."

  "If you had stayed five seconds longer, you would have seen me push her away. I don't want her, Cordy. I want you. I just... I don't know how to say this..."

  "By saying it," I suggested, not caring how nasty my tone was. This shouldn't be easy for him. Fuck him.

  "Her name..."

  "Oh my god. I really, really don't want to know her name."

  "Her name is Myra and she's... someone I... had a thing with back in California."

  So she traveled across the country to come see him. That was just lovely. Great. As if things weren't complicated enough to begin with.

  Dane was quiet, staring down at the floor. I sighed, closing my eyes. "Look. It's fine. You want to be with her? That's fine. Just stop acting like..."

  "I knocked her up."

  The air whooshed out of my body. "What?"

  "Back in California," he clarified, "four months ago... I slept with her and she came here to tell me that she's pregnant."

  "Oh my god," I heard myself whisper.

  But he heard and his head raised, his golden eyes boring into mine. And all my anger deflated. All the betrayal evaporated. Because he looked wrecked. "Yeah," he said, nodding. "Just when I thought..." he broke off, shaking his head.

  What was the protocol here? Exactly how was someone supposed to handle this kind of situation? I couldn't be the first woman who was dating someone when a ghost from the past come back and threw a wrench in the works. There had to be something I could say... something to help take that look off his face.

  I felt myself shrug even though he couldn't see me. "Shit happens."

  He looked up quickly, staring at me with bright eyes and laughed. "Yeah, I guess."

  "And I mean... condoms are only effective ninety-seven percent of the time," I felt myself smiling. "You can't beat those odds."

  He snorted, watching me for a second. "God, I fucking love you."

  There was something in his tone. It was something that made my spine straighten, made me feel cold. "I love you too," I said simply. I did. I probably always would.

  "I know baby," he said, looking back down at his hands, "that's what makes this so hard."

  "It's okay," I said, moving across the room to sit down next to him. I put a hand on top of his and he stared down at it for a minute. "I knew you had a past..."

  "No, it's not that," he said.

  "Talk to me, Dane," I said, slipping m
y hand under his and entwining our fingers. It was hard to see him lost. But mostly because, in my mind, I had never pictured him that way. I always saw him as dominant, and sure of himself, decisive. It was difficult to reconcile this Dane with the one I thought he was.

  "She's pregnant. And she has... she needs me."

  "Okay. So you help her out. It's the right thing to do."

  He winced at my words, pulling his hand out of mine and standing.

  "I'm going to be with her," he said.

  The swirling in my stomach started, fast and nauseating. "What?"

  He took a visible breath and turned to me. "I am going to be with her. And raise this baby with her. I'm sorry but... this is over."

  And then he was gone, taking the floor of my room in two strides and disappearing into the hallway.

  I thought the feeling yesterday was bad. The betrayal mixed with heartbreak. But I was wrong. This was worse. This was so, so much worse. Because he still loved me. He loved me and he was pushing me away. He wanted to be with me. He just... wasn't going to be.

  And I couldn't even be mad. That was probably the worst part of the whole situation. Him standing up and being a man and taking care of the woman who was about to give him a baby just made him all the more lovable. It made him honorable and... good. And I was going to have to watch him be that man... to her, for her.

  I slid off the end of the bed onto the floor.

  It felt like there was a gap in my chest. It felt like there was a spinning black hole, pulling everything good inside it and leaving me with only the breaking, the sadness. There was grief that was so strong it shook like continental shifts, dividing what was now from what was, forcing me to acknowledge that I was going to have to build a life on foreign soil.

  I let out a groan, something like an injured animal.

  There was a knock at my door, but it opened before I could tell whoever it was to shove off. "I figured you would be hungry," Devon said, walking in with a tray, "but you look like you're going to puke," he said, setting the tray on the dresser, grabbing the coffee and bringing it over to me. I took it, expecting him to leave, but he simply lowered himself down on the floor next to me, staring at the wall.

  "What's up, Dev?" I asked after a long minute, my hands wrapped around the scalding mug, enjoying the smarting of my skin in a twisted way.

  "Nothin'," he shrugged. "What's up with you?"

  I looked over at his profile, young. Younger than me by several years, but there was something there. A sort of quiet wisdom that made me feel like he would be a good sounding board.

  Then I spilled. All of it. The evolution of things with Dane, from the first encounter tothe date, the tattoo, the admitting of my feelings, his admitting of his, the blissful week we were given to enjoy it, the strawberry blond, my temporary leave of my senses back in the woods, Lena and Eric coming by to snap me out of it, my conversation with Dane, the baby, the final breakup.

  And he just sat there through it, calm as a statue, not nodding or wincing, not making any kind of noise. Which somehow made it easier to purge it all.

  "Well," he said finally, putting a hand on my knee, "what's the plan now?"

  "The plan?" I asked, my brows drawing together.

  "Well from where I am sitting, I see three options."

  "Well that's more than I can come up with," I said.

  "You can leave. That's always an option. Once all of this gets out, no one would blameyou. Actually, you'd probably get a lot of sympathy..."

  "I don't want anyone's sympathy."

  "I figured," he said, his tone sure. Like maybe a part of him had picked up on more about me over the past few weeks than I thought he did. "Then there is the hide away and break your heart into a million un-fixable pieces options. You could cry and rage and become so bitter that you can never truly be happy again."

  "Tempting," I said sarcastically and he laughed. "And my last option?"

  "You pick that head up," he said, reaching out and pushing my chin up. "You put your shoulders back and you be so strong that no one would dare feel sorry for you."

  "That sounds like the best of the three," I nodded.

  "You get to take one day to wallow. Because by this time tomorrow, the entire town is going to know. And you are going to need to show your face."

  "You're good at this," I said, scooting over slightly so I could face him.

  "I'm a Windsor."

  "Does that mean something?"

  "Not to you, but in this town... yeah." His face was curled up slightly in disgust as he pressed on. "We are rich. My family. Filthy rich. They own the lodge up the hill. And they own a lot of the property in town here. We're old money. And we learn from a very young age how important it is to put on the right mask... no matter what we are going through. We have a reputation to uphold... and all that crap."

  "Why are you working here?" I asked, shaking my head.

  "I keep my distance from them. I live at my own place. I make my own money. I invest the money they give to me every year. I don't want to be a cliché."

  "Right, because this hipster sense of style of yours isn't cliché," I smiled.

  "Shut up, you," he said, tugging at a strand of my hair.

  "So how long do you think it will be before this whole thing blows over?"

  "Oh, they should stop talking about it by the time the kid is in college."

  I laughed. "Great."

  "But on the bright side, you'll only have to deal with it for a few more months. Once all the plans are set here, you can go back to your life and forget all about us," he said, getting to his feet and holding a hand out for me. "Now if you are going to cry, make sure you ice those eyes before you go to bed or there will be no way to hide it in the morning." There was a noise on the other side of my wall, making my heart leap into my throat as I looked over. "He's moving his stuff out," Devon supplied. "I guess he's... giving you your space."

  "Or moving in with his new girl," I supplied, looking back at him.

  "Yeah, you need to practice your 'this isn't bothering me' face, because that was downright pathetic," he said, reaching for the doorknob.

  "Gee thanks,"I said.

  "Just trying to help."

  "Hey, Dev," I called as he stepped into the hall.

  "Yeah, doll?" he asked, peeking his head back in.

  "Thank you."

  He nodded. "Give em hell."

  My head tilted to the side. "Who?"

  Then he smiled, a slow spreading smile that made him look both unbelievably charming and completely devilish at the same time. "Everyone, Cordelia. Everyone."

  Then he closed the door and he was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts. He was right though. I needed to at least come through this situation with my pride intact. Otherwise there would just be nothing left when I finally got out of this town. Just a pathetic shell of a person.

  So I needed to pull myself together.

  I needed to, once again, fake it.

  Nineteen

  Dane

  Fuck.

  I threw all my shit into suitcases with much more force than was necessary. Every inch of me felt like it was buzzing, like all my nerve endings were on high alert. She was quiet in the other room. I hadn't heard any crying or yelling, no throwing, no nothing. I wanted nothing more than to storm back over there and tell her I was sorry. That I didn't mean it. That if she would take me back, I wanted her.

  But I couldn't.

  Because, for the first time in my life, I was trying to do the right thing.

  And more often than not, doing the right thing meant suppressing your desires and wishes.

  Who the hell was I to think that I could actually have a relationship? With the most incredible woman I have ever met? That I could actually be happy? And not the superficial different woman every night, nothing to hold me back kind of happy. Real, genuine happiness that had roots and a future.

  Well, I gues
s I had the roots and future part now. Just not the happiness. And maybe that would come. A different kind of happiness though. Nothing would ever be the same. No one could replace the part of me that bore Cordy's name. I would be with Myra. I would raise a baby with her. I might even settle into a sort of family comfort eventually. But she would never be Cordy.

  I didn't really know Myra well. We had a very casual, very sexual relationship for maybe a week and a half right before I left to come back to Stars Landing. I don't think we even shared last names. Which would have gotten her nowhere looking for me in any other town in the world, but in Stars Landing, all she had to do is show up and say she's looking for Dane and she would be pointed right to the bar.

  There had been a certain kind of strength about her as she told me, like she was perfectly willing to do it all on her own if she needed to. And I respected that. Good for her. But I was not the kind of guy who walked away from his responsibilities. Even though I had never really given much thought to parenthood. With my commitment to non commitment, it never seemed like it was in the cards for me. But the fact of the matter was, I was in a solid financial state, I was mature enough, I had space for a kid.

  Everything else would just have to come.

  I rushed out of the inn, shaking off a concerned Emily, and made my way back to my apartment.

  "You have no kitchen," Myra said as a greeting as I stepped inside, dropping my thingson the floor.

  "It's in the works," I shrugged.

  I remembered her body well. The long shapely legs, the plump ass, the small but adequate tits, the lower back indentations. It was a little different already. Her face seemed a little rounder, her breasts slightly swollen, her lower belly rounding out slightly.

  She nodded, looking around nervously. She was nervous. "You don't have to stay with me if you don't want," I suggested. "I can put you up in an apartment around here or..."

  "Sorry," she said, shaking her head. "I know I seem ungrateful. I'm not. This is just... so not what I had been planning on. You know?" She laughed, rolling her eyes. "Of course you know."

  "What was the plan?" Yeah, I was the kind of guy who didn't even bother to ask you what you did for a living before fucking you.