Page 129 of The Compass Series

“One moment, please, let me find my passage,” Grams said, turning away slightly as she flipped through her book.

Damian kept his eyes on me. I couldn’t even think of taking mine away from him.

“You…” He flicked his thumb against his nose as his nerves began to get the best of him. “You look…”

“Pretty?” I grinned.

“No.”

I frowned. “Oh.”

“Didn’t mean it like that.” He grimaced and muttered under his breath as he looked down.

His toes wiggled under the sand as he shifted around slightly.

When he lifted his head, that same look he first gave me when I walked out sat there heavily in his eyes.

This time, it was unmistakable. “You look mesmerizing,” he whispered.

So low that only I heard. So tender that butterflies invaded my stomach.

So honest that I almost felt like bursting into tears.

Never in my life had anyone used that kind of word to describe me. Pretty? Yes. Cute? Sure. Adorable? All the time. But mesmerizing? That felt like a secret word reserved in a collection of words never used to describe a woman like me.

Mesmerizing? Mesmerizing. Mesmerizing !

The chills that one word could create were making my mind spin.

“Don’t cry,” he warned.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” I replied.

He smiled.

It slipped out. An accident. One that he probably hardly ever made.

He tucked it back in quickly, but I saw it. He saw that I saw it, and well, I was going to keep that smile plastered in my brain for a while.

“Why are you being nice to me?” I whispered, confused. The Damian I argued with outside of the restaurant was not the same Damian I stood beside that morning who left me blueberry scones and used words like mesmerizing to describe me.

“Because it’s our wedding day,” he replied.

You confuse me so much, Mr. Blackstone.

“All right, here we go.” Grams turned back to face us both, and the ceremony began. It wasn’t a long ceremony, which I was thankful for.

“Are we exchanging vows you both prepared?” Grams asked us.

My eyes widened, a bit thrown off by her question. “Oh, no. I didn’t think that would be necessary seeing how?—”

“I wrote some out,” Damian cut in, leaving me stunned.

“Huh? You did?” I questioned.

He reached into the breast pocket of his suit and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “Yes, but, if you’d rather me not read it?—”

“No,” I hurriedly said, placing my hand against his forearm. The second my hand connected with his skin, Damian’s eyes fell to our touch before rising slowly to lock his blues with my browns. I quickly removed my hand and smoothed my sweaty hands against my dress. “I mean, I’d like to hear it.”

He nodded and unfolded the paper. “Stella. I think it’s safe to say today is weird as fuck,” he started, making us all laugh.

He didn’t chuckle, though. It was as if he hadn’t even known he was funny as he continued.

“And I realized as I was writing this that I don’t know you.

I don’t know your middle name, let alone your last. But I do know that this isn’t easy for either of us.

I had a friend remind me of that fact. Even though I don’t know much about you, I do know myself.

I know my flaws and where I struggle. I know that I’m blunt.

I am cold and hard to approach. I am short-tempered at times and have the ability to think the worst of most people.

I know you’ve already seen these sides of me, and I am not proud of this because I’ve seen a few sides of you, too, over the past few days. ”

He looked up at me and began to speak the words straight to me. “I’ve seen your kindness. I’ve seen your sensitivities. I’ve seen how you take every word to your heart and feel deeply for everything—even the waves,” he said, gesturing toward the ocean.

I laughed, feeling on the edge of tears as he kept on.

“I’ve seen your expressions and how my words impact you.

I’ve seen how my asshole tendencies affect you.

So I’ll make a few promises to you today.

I promise to watch my words around you so you don’t feel as if you are walking on eggshells.

I promise to apologize when I’m wrong and even when I’m right.

I promise to be honest with you but try to do so in a gentler way.

Even though this is fake, I promise to pretend it’s not.

To be your husband when you need me and less of an asshole whenever I can.

I promise you blueberry scones on Saturday mornings because I know that’s important.

So yeah. That’s it. I promise not to be the worst parts of me, so you can be the best parts of yourself. Today, I promise you that.”

“Well then,” Grams said, wiping at the tears falling from her eyes. “That was unexpected.”

Damian grimaced. “It was too much.”

“No!” everyone shouted at once, tossing their hands in the air.

Connor leaned forward and patted his friend on the shoulder. “It was just the perfect amount of enough.”

Damian’s grumpy look was back with his lowered brows. “Okay. Then continue,” he said to Grams.

“Wait!” I shouted. “I came up with a few promises, too.”

“Oh?” he asked, surprised.

“Yes. Well, clearly, this is being made up as I go, but I promise you quiet mornings. I already noticed you aren’t a morning person, based on your grumbles when you make coffee.

And I promise not to go on long random bursts of conversation when you are clearly not in the mood—so never will I do that.

Actually, I might, but that’s just because I’m chatty.

I don’t do well in quiet places. Even when I’m by myself, I talk out loud.

But I’ll try to be more mindful about it.

I promise you peace in the world of my emotional chaos.

I promise to pull back on my crying because I know it makes you uneasy.

And I promise you that even your worst parts aren’t as ugly as you make them out to be, and I promise to make a space where you can be your truest self without judgment. Today, I promise you that.”

“It’s like you both are trying to destroy a pregnant woman’s emotions,” Aaliyah cried out, reaching for the tissue she stored in her bra.

“Pass one over here,” Connor agreed, reaching out for a tissue.

I laughed at how lighthearted everything was becoming after a morning filled with so much anxiety.

When it came time for “I do,” we both said them. We didn’t exchange rings, but we did sign a piece of paper, making the arrangement as real as it was going to be.

Grams clapped her hands together. “By the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the?—”

“I won’t kiss you,” Damian blurted out. He grew a bit shy and shook his head. “You know since you have a boyfriend and all.”

“Right. My boyfriend. Of course. That would be completely inappropriate.”

“Yes. Because marrying a stranger isn’t inappropriate at all,” he joked.

At least I thought he was joking. It was hard to tell with that one.

“Well, at least hug one another,” Grams offered.

“Oh, Damian doesn’t do hugs,” Connor said. “Except for Aaliyah, but that’s just because she’s pregnant. It’s a free pass for a few months.”

“Want to bump fists?” I joked.

“I’m not bumping fists,” Damian replied.

Fair enough.

“Well, uh, shake hands?” Grams said, getting bored with the whole thing.

I held my hand out toward Damian, and he held his out toward me.

We shook each other’s hands as husband and wife. Then right afterward a wave crashed against the shore. When the water splashed against my cheeks, it felt as if they were Mama’s kisses.

After the ceremony, Connor and Aaliyah had to catch a flight out of California back to New York. When they left, it felt like another regular Saturday evening again. Minus the nontraditional wedding dress I was still wearing and the husband inside the house I grew up in.

I sat on the coastline, staring out as the darkened sky kissed the edge of the ocean, feeling my heartbeats intensify. I had a feeling that even though I wanted today to be a normal day, things would be quite interesting over the next six months.

I walked out toward the water in my black gown and allowed the waves to engulf me.

I prayed to the goddess of the ocean and asked Mama and Kevin to protect me from whatever was to come.

To show me the way I was meant to travel.

To help me figure out what was supposed to come next because I had no clue what to do.

I felt as if my life didn’t have much direction.

I thought my life would be different. I thought my art would have taken off by now, and I wouldn’t still be working at a massage studio.

I figured I’d be married—to Jeff—and maybe expecting our first child.

I thought Kevin would still be here to walk me down the aisle.

As the waves raced over me, I begged for them to take away my anxiety and fears.

I stayed in the water for ten minutes. When I emerged, I turned toward the shore and saw Damian walking my way with a towel in his hands. I raised an eyebrow of curiosity as he approached.

“Do you do this every night?” he asked me. “Walk into the water?”

“Yes. It’s kind of my thing.”

The corner of his lip twitched, and he stared down at the towel, then held it out toward me. “Figured you could use a towel.” I thanked him. He stood there with his serious eyes, and I smiled, knowing something else was on his mind.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, it’s just… I wasn’t certain if we were supposed to do this or not.

Then it was skipped over at the ceremony, but…

” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring with a huge black crystal sitting at the center.

I gasped when I saw it. He frowned. “I picked it up earlier this week. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to give it to you or not, so…

here.” He shoved it into my hand and turned to walk away quickly.

I couldn’t help but smile at his nerves. It appeared I wasn’t the only one overthinking things.

“Damian, wait!” I called out.

He looked back at me with his raised brow and grumpy expression. I nodded toward him. “Thank you for this. And the towel. I’ll be honest, it feels like we are kids playing house a bit.”

“I’ve played house my whole life, in different scenarios.”

“In the foster system?” I asked. He nodded. “How many homes have you been a part of, if I may ask?”

“Too many to count.”

That made my heart ache for him. I couldn’t even imagine what that was like for him. If I didn’t have Kevin to take me in after my mother passed away, I could have ended up in the same type of situation. The more I learned about Damian, the more I was beginning to understand the hardened hummus.

He had to be tough his whole life because it probably felt as if he was being discarded so often. I’d have trust issues with people, too.

I wanted to say more, to try to learn more about him, but I knew pushing him for information wasn’t the best way. He’d clam up quickly.

Instead, I thanked him again for the towel.

“Of course.” He rubbed his hand against his shoulder blade. “Isn’t that what a husband would do for a wife?”

Yes. I supposed it is.