Page 76 of The Compass Series

AALIYAH

D aylight poured into the bedroom through the curtains, and I groaned as it hit my cheeks.

I had yet to open my eyes, the pounding of my brain making me feel nauseous.

I wanted to rip my head off my body for the way it was spinning.

I was certain meeting the sunlight would only intensify the awful feeling.

I reached to my right to locate my phone, which I always plugged in at night and left on my nightstand, but I gasped when my hand fell straight down instead of tapping the table.

My eyes opened, and instant panic hit me as I sat up in the bed, realizing it wasn’t my bed at all. Every hair on my body stood straight up as a strong panic began to overtake my whole system. Where was I? And whose bed was I lying on?

Then it all came back to me. The wedding. The night before. Connor.

I sat in his oversized T-shirt and gray sweatpants, which made my level of panic skyrocket to new heights. I started to recall the previous night, the ending of my relationship, the meltdown that came afterward, and Connor.

I glanced to the other side of the bed, where a nightstand was located. Sitting on it was a glass of water and a piece of paper.

I crawled over to it and picked up the piece of paper.

Red,

You’re okay.

-Captain

I made the mistake of glancing in the mirror, which reflected my heartbreak in smeared makeup and tearstains. I looked like a raccoon with the eyeliner and mascara spread around.

The apartment smelled like bacon, which meant Connor was up and active. With slow movements, I walked out of the bedroom to find a huge, open space. His penthouse had an open layout that was modern and bright. The floor-to-ceiling windows were soaked in the sunlight that had awakened me.

“Hey,” I muttered to Connor, whose back was to me as he stood in his kitchen area, stirring something on the stovetop.

He glanced over his shoulder, which had a dish towel resting on it, and gave me a half-grin. “Morning, sunshine.”

What an ironic thing to say. There was nothing sunny about my shine.

He turned back to the stove, turned off the heat, and then walked over in my direction. I’d already found my way over to his kitchen countertop, where I took a seat on a stool and lowered my head to the island in complete defeat.

“Sorry I wasn’t in there when you woke up. I saw you stirring for a while and figured you’d be waking soon, so I decided to get up and start breakfast.”

“You really stayed in there all night long?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Even the saddest parts of my soul felt warmth from that. “Thank you, Connor. I’m sorry, for everything. I’ll get out of your hair right away. I know I’ve been a burden but I won’t be for any longer.”

“How do you like your grits?” he said, almost as if he hadn’t heard what I said about leaving.

“What?”

“Grits—how do you like your grits? I made bacon, too, along with some scrambled eggs.”

“I don’t even know what grits are.”

The look of shock and hurt that hit his face almost made me want to laugh. If I hadn’t felt physically and emotionally crushed to my core, he would’ve received a laugh.

“Grits are only the best breakfast in the whole world. It might be a Southern thing, but it’s a good Southern thing. I normally make cheesy grits, but I ran out of cheese. You can add a little sugar on top of them, though, and muah!” He gave a chef’s kiss.

“I’m not really hungry,” I explained, feeling my stomach still flipping.

“I know, which is exactly why you need to eat,” he explained, grabbing a plate from his cupboard.

I shook my head. “No, really, Connor. I just need to go home. I feel…”

Awful.

Sad.

Broken.

Free?

Wait, no. Not that.

He looked at me, and his lips turned down into the saddest frown. He felt bad for me. I couldn’t blame him. I felt bad for myself, too.

“Are you sure you don’t want any food? I left out some more sweats so you can shower and change into them, if you need. Plus, maybe after you shower, you’ll want something to eat.”

I gave him a half-smile. “Yeah, thanks. Then I’ll get out of your hair.”

“No rush, Red. Truly.” Connor seemed unbothered by my broken-down appearance. He stood tall and calm as ever. “Your cell phone is on the dresser in the bedroom, fully charged. Take all the time you need, and when you’re ready, I can have my driver take you wherever you need to go.”

“Thank you.”

“Any time.”

I stood from the chair and began moving in the direction of the bedroom. Then I paused and looked back at Connor.

“Connor, wait.” He looked over his shoulder toward me, and I swallowed hard. “I know I don’t have a right to ask you this, but the thought just keeps running through my head, and I’m not sure I can make it go away unless I ask you…”

He stood silent, waiting.

I bit my bottom lip. “Was there another woman that you knew of? Was Jason seeing anyone else?”

The corners of his mouth twitched, and he slid his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

His silence was my answer.

“Did you know her?” I asked.

“Don’t do this, Aaliyah,” he whispered.

“Do what?”

“Make it hurt more than it has to.”

His words stung me, yet it was my own fault, really. I’d known who Jason was from the beginning, and I still allowed myself to fall for him. I’d walked into his spiderweb, knowing I was an ant.

“Everyone always told me, in a way. At all those social events, they always hinted at the man Jason used to be.”

They were all right. I was just another mark on the timeline of women Jason crossed paths with.

I had wanted so desperately for them to be wrong.

I’d wanted to prove them wrong, and I’d wanted to prove to myself that I was enough.

Now everyone was laughing at me from their mansions, thinking, I told you so.

I rose my head up to look at Connor.

Except for him.

His eyes were on me, and he wasn’t so quiet. I didn’t mean in his tones but rather his stance. The way his shoulders were low and his lips slightly moved. The way his arms crossed and his head tilted to the left a little. The way his blue eyes seemed as calm as the ocean at nightfall.

Nothing about his body language read “I told you so.” Nothing about Connor was laughing in my face at my stupidity for loving Jason. Nothing about him was calling me a fool.

All that sat in his eyes was sorrow.

He felt bad for me.

I had to tear my stare away from him because his sadness for me only made my heart ache more.

I went to take a long, hot shower as my tears intermixed with the water droplets slamming against my body, and I welcomed the sadness.

I didn’t try to fight it. I didn’t try to avoid it.

I didn’t try to talk myself out of the hurting.

No, I allowed the pain into my heart. I let it burn.