Page 145 of The Compass Series

STELLA - PRESENT DAY

“ Y ou can’t be serious,” Jeff remarked, standing flabbergasted after I broke things off with him. “After all I’ve done for you, you have the nerve to break up with me?”

“All you’ve done for me? Jeff, you’ve cheated on me for three years with my coworker. You’ve lied straight to my face. And heaven knows who else you’ve been sleeping with.”

“So, I make one mistake, and you throw me to the curb?”

One mistake? Was he serious? A mistake was burning a pizza, not repeatedly screwing my friend. That wasn’t a mistake—that was a choice. One he felt very confident in making.

Thinking back on all the times the three of us were together, I felt like a fool. I’d been overthinking if there were any signs that they were sneaking behind my back. Clearly, there had to have been, seeing as Damian was so quick to pick up on the scandal.

I wished I’d been able to read people as he had. I would’ve probably saved myself a lot of heartache.

“This isn’t a one mistake thing. You betrayed me,” I explained.

He rolled his eyes. “Give me a break, Stella. This whole good girl act is exhausting. I’ve been nothing but good to you.

I’ve put up with your emotions for ten damn years.

I’ve dealt with your massive weight gain and still screwed you.

I dealt with your weird obsession with talking to the ocean like a freak and listened to your stupid dreams. I’ve supported you!

And then you have enough nerve to throw me to the side like a used puppy as if you’re just this innocent victim? ”

But I was…

I was innocent.

I blinked a few times, shaken by his words and insults. Then I cleared my throat. “This place is in my name, and I’ve been covering the bills for it. I’ll need you to move out.”

“Excuse me? No. Okay, slow down. We can work this out. I mean, yes, we were both unfaithful and?—”

“We?!” I gasped. “Jeff, I have been nothing but faithful to you.”

“Oh, please, Stella. Stop with the good girl act. You think I’m an idiot? You think I don’t see how you look at Damian? Or hell, how he looks at you? He stares at you like you’re the freaking sun. And you expect me to believe that you two haven’t been screwing this whole time?”

“Uh, yes because we definitely haven’t. I would never do that!” Plus, Damian didn’t look at me like that. He was just a friend.

Jeff pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re a damn liar! You’ve been screwing him from the jump, I’m sure. Because you are weak and can’t deny yourself the temptation. I mean, hell, Stella. You married a man when you had a boyfriend.”

“Because of you! You told me to do this. You told me to agree to this arrangement.”

“I was joking!” he remarked. “Why would I want my girlfriend to marry another man? Use your brain, Stella. I know that’s hard for you to do.”

He was gaslighting me. I felt it deep in my soul as he began to twist the whole situation of what had unfolded right before my eyes. He was making me the villain in our story when I’d been loyal to a fault to a man who clearly never loved me.

I parted my lips to speak, to defend myself, but I didn’t see a point. Some people were determined to misunderstand you in order to help clear their own guilt of the hurt they inflicted.

“Leave your keys on the counter. I’ll be back on my free day to go through some things,” I explained.

“Wow…” He blew out a cloud of hot air. “Just like that? You’re done with me? After all these years together? You’re really going to allow this man you’ve known for six weeks to walk in and ruin something that was so solid?”

“I don’t know if we were ever truly solid, Jeff.

” If we were, we wouldn’t have crumbled so easily.

It turns out longevity in a relationship meant nothing if love and trust weren’t a part of the equation.

Millions of couples stayed together for a long time simply because too many days passed, and they thought that meant it was too late to go.

Mama and Kevin wouldn’t want that for me. They would’ve never wanted me to stay in a place where love didn’t exist.

“What about my loans?” he asked.

“What?”

“The money I took out and spent. I’m in a hell pile of debt, Stella.”

“I told you not to take that money out. That was never a part of the plan.”

“Okay, but you can’t leave me high and dry! You’re not a bitch like that.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You’re right. I’m not a bitch. But I’m also not responsible for your bad choices.”

“This isn’t you. It’s that asshole, isn’t it? You’re not confident or strong like you’re acting. That ass got in your head and is messing with your thoughts.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re saying I’m only standing up for myself because of Damian?”

“Absolutely.”

I stared at him, baffled by his words. Did he truly think so little of me? Did I really allow a man to believe such awful things about who I’d been? How could I have been so stupid thinking that what Jeff felt for me had even an ounce of love within it? If this was love, I’d rather have hate.

Then again, he wasn’t wrong, in a way. Damian did help me find the confidence that I didn’t even know I’d deserved to have.

“Leave the key, Jeff. I’ll be back in a few days.”

I turned to walk away, leaving the house with a pool of nerves in my stomach.

He chased me out to the street, shouting, “You’ll regret this! He’ll never actually give a shit about you. He’s just in it for the check, Stella. Then you’ll be left alone. I was doing you a service by loving you.”

My eyes watered over as I stared at him, stunned by his coldness. Who was this monster I loved for the past few years? “Goodbye, Jeff,” I whispered with a shaky voice.

He chuckled, baffled by my choice to still walk away. “Give him this word of advice: he should screw you with the lights off. It makes it easier to stomach all of your stomachs.”

I cried the whole way back home. Then I sat in my car and cried for a few more hours. I went to bed and cried for the remainder of the night.

The next morning, I found Damian in the dining room. He stood the second I entered the space. I must’ve looked as awful as I felt because his eyes were filled with sadness. I could almost feel the pity he was shooting my way through those irises.

“Hi there,” I softly spoke.

“Hello,” he replied.

“How was your outing with Denise?”

He grimaced.

Seemed about right.

“I’m sorry you had to grow up with these people. I get how they could mess up someone’s head. There was a lot of gaslighting going on with her toward the server.”

“Denise is good at making people think they are crazy,” I joked. “It probably explains some of my issues.”

“I hate her.”

“Don’t. Besides…she might be your mother.”

“Don’t care. Still hate her.” He glanced around, almost uncertain what to do or say next. He cleared his throat and scratched at his neck. “Are you all right? After your talk last night?”

“No.”

“Did you get any sleep?”

I shook my head. Tears burned at the back of my eyes. “No.”

“Don’t cry.”

“Okay.”

I cried.

He stepped closer. “You’re crying.”

“Sorry.”

“No apologies.”

“Okay.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tissue. “Figured you might cry, so I shoved these into my pocket.”

“Thanks.” I took it and wiped my eyes.

“Do you only have mostly one-word replies today?”

I nodded. “Yes.” Any more words, and I was on the path of falling completely apart.

I didn’t want to talk about what happened because it hurt too much.

I didn’t want to face the fact that my friend and boyfriend had been sneaking around behind my back for God knows how long. If I spoke the words, I’d shatter.

“I… I mean… They…” The words faltered off. My brain was too exhausted and overwhelmed to even try to form a complete sentence.

“Words are overrated,” he said, looking down at the floor. When he looked up, his lips sat in a heavy frown. “It makes me upset, though.”

“What does?”

“When assholes make you cry. So, I made you something.”

I raised a curious eyebrow.

He slid his hands into the pockets of his gray sweatpants. “Whenever I’m enraged or filled to the brim with hurt, I find a rage room. It’s a place you can go and break a bunch of shit to get the energy out of your body. I figured you wouldn’t love that as much as me, so I made you something else.”

“What is it?”

“Follow me.”

I did as he said. He led us outside toward the pool house, and when he opened the doors, I was shocked to see the floor in plastic.

All the furniture had been removed, and the walls looked as if they’d been freshly painted canvas white.

The kitchen area of the pool house was covered with tapestry, and in the opened space were buckets of paint.

Twenty-four buckets, to be exact, with a range of colors. Beside them sat a pair of goggles.

I looked back at Damian. “What is this?”

“A rage room—Stella style. Use the whole space. The walls, the ceiling, it’s your canvas. Unlike my rage rooms when things just break… I figured you could take your rage and make something beautiful.”

A slight laugh left my lips. “I don’t think what I’m feeling would come out beautiful.”

“I’ve seen your artwork. Trust me. It will be beautiful.”

“Why would you do this for me?”

“You’re hurting. So, I figured I’d help you out because that’s what friends do.”

My heart skipped a few beats. “Friends?”

“Friends,” he echoed.

My hands landed against my chest. “You want to be my friend?”

He released a weighted sigh. “Don’t make it a big deal, Cinderstella,” he said, being gentle as he used my nickname. “Please don’t cry.”

“You just said you want to be my friend, Beast. That’s a reason for tears.”

“It actually isn’t. It’s a far, far reason to relinquish emotions.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t have emotions.”

“Maybe.”

I smiled.

Maybe.

He walked over to the goggles, picked them up, and placed them over my eyes. “Make a mess. The biggest mess you can make. Yell. Scream. Fall apart. Get it all out, and I’ll clean it up later.”

He walked out of the space, leaving me alone with the buckets of paint, and I did as he said.

I went to war with my emotions, plunging my hands into the buckets of paint and throwing it toward the blank walls.

I screamed as I spread my hands across the walls.

I cried as I felt all the rage that’d been building up inside me.

I covered the walls and myself with reds, blues, purples, greens.

Paint dripped down my fingertips, down my elbows, against my clothing.

My toes were covered in paint, and my heart cried out as I slapped paint against the walls.

The energy of using art to break through the pain of Jeff’s betrayal felt powerful. As if something beautiful could be created from the destruction even though I was hurting.

When I finished hours later, the walls were covered in life.

I’d never created something packed with so much feeling using only my hands.

I stood back in awe of my creation, and then I fell to my knees and cried.

I cried for the girl I used to be. The one who felt as if I had to be a certain way to keep my family together.

I cried for the betrayal that I faced. I cried because a big part of me was thankful for finding out about Jeff and Kelsey.

I needed that reason to finally feel free.

Once I was done allowing my emotions to race through me, allowing myself to feel every single emotion out there, I headed back inside the house. I walked over to Damian’s office, where I knew he’d be, and I looked inside because his door was wide open.

His door was never open when we first moved in with one another, but now, every time I passed it, I could be met with his eyes.

Those blue eyes that I once thought were cold. When, in reality, they were simply lonely.

He looked up at me, and a small smile hit his lips. “Better?”

I nodded. “Better.”

“Told you it would be beautiful,” he mentioned.

I laughed a little. “You haven’t even seen it yet.”

“Yes.” He looked me up and down before turning back to his paperwork. “I have.”

A few more heart flips to end the night. “Good night, Beast,” I whispered.

He didn’t look up, but replied, “Good night, Cinderstella.”