I felt like crying as she looked my way. Did she realize it? How much her words hurt me?
“Why don’t you like me, Catherine?” I blurted out, feeling my emotions begin to overpower me. My body shook as I sat in front of her, staring into her eyes that looked nothing like mine. Tears fell down my cheeks as I parted my mouth. My words were shaky and unstable. “What did I ever do to you? Why am I never good enough for you?”
Catherine’s eyes flashed with emotions. I didn’t even know she’d been able to feel. She blinked them away. “Oh, sweetheart.” She cupped my face and placed her lips against my forehead. “I like you so much that I am brave enough to point out your flaws. That’s love, you know? Having someone who is willing to tell you the truth.”
She gave me ocean kisses, but they felt like a drought.
“Chin up,” she said, wiping away my tears. “And let me do your makeup for you. We’ll also pick out a better dress.”
She got me ready, changing every single angle about me, and applying what felt like a million layers of makeup. She put me in a black dress because she told me I shouldn’t want to stand out, too much. An oversized black potato sack of a dress that didn’t showcase my body at all. Then she stood me in front of the mirror and smiled at the creation she’d made.
“See? Isn’t that better?” she asked.
I frowned. “I look nothing like myself.”
“I know.” She tapped my nose and grinned ear to ear. “Exactly.”
29
Stella
Present Day
* * *
“Wow,” I breathed out, seeing Damian walk out of his bedroom looking as if he was voted as the Sexiest Man Alive for People magazine. He wore a white button-down shirt with a blue suede blazer over it. It was fitted perfectly to his toned figure, and he accessorized it with a gold watch and a leather bracelet, and two brown rings. His beard was trimmed perfectly, and his dark brown hair fell effortlessly into style on his head.
He looked remarkable.
“Wow,” he replied, looking my way.
I wore a blue suede dress, too, but it didn’t do for me the same thing it did for Damian. His eyes popped so much that he was almost hard to look at due to him being so striking.
“Stella, you look so beautiful,” he told me.
A wave of uncertainty found me as I tugged on my dress. “It’s too tight maybe?”
“Trust me,” he sighed in admiration as he walked over and placed his hands on my hips. “It’s not.”
“It’s a bit too showy. I don’t want to stand out too much. I should change.” I started to pull away from Damian, but he held me in place.
“Stella,” he whispered, pulling me closer to him. His lips fell against the nape of my neck, and his hot breaths melted against my skin as he gently kissed me. “Ignore the voices.”
“The voices?”
“The ones in your head that are lying to you. They aren’t your own. Don’t let them win.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The more time I spent with Damian, the more I began to realize that throughout my life, my thoughts were not my own. They were a collection of thoughts from the people who once surrounded me.
I wished I was around better people growing up. Maybe it would’ve made it easier for me to think better thoughts.
I released a weighted breath as Damian kissed my neck once more. “More than enough.”
More than enough.
We headed to the gala, and even though I felt out of place around everyone else at the event, I felt right at home with Damian’s arm wrapped around mine. I was starting to believe that whenever he was around, my life was that much better. It was hard to imagine that just mere months ago, we were strangers. Now, I couldn’t imagine a world where Damian Blackstone didn’t exist.
He made sure to keep me close to him that night and was pretty good at calming my troubled nerves about me not fitting in with the body standard that surrounded us. When some women would hit on him right in front of me, Damian’s arm would always wrap around my waist, and he’d pull me in closer to him.
At one point, he leaned in and whispered the word, “Mine,” against my ear.
I leaned into him and gently sucked on his earlobe before whispering back, “Mine.”
We were two misfits that were surrounded by a world in which we didn’t belong. Yet still, we felt comfortable because we had one another. That was a new kind of comfort to me, and it felt effortless.
“Can you get me a water?” I asked Damian. “I’m feeling a little off.”
“Of course,” Damian said, kissing my forehead. “Be right back.”
I nodded as I sat at a table. As he went to get me a water without question, I couldn’t help but think how Jeff would’ve called me lazy for not going to get it myself. Damian did it without any negative thoughts attached to it. I didn’t know that men like him truly existed outside of romantic comedies. He was gentle with my sometimes-frantic heart and still told me I was more than enough.
As he walked away, I grimaced the moment I saw Catherine approaching me. She looked breathtaking, which wasn’t a surprise. Her grimace against her face, though, made me feel as if I were that same little girl who only wanted her approval.
“Stella,” she coldly stated. “I thought I told Damian not to bring you.”
“He’s not really one to follow the rules,” I said, pushing out a smile. I stood from my chair, feeling a bit light-headed, but shook it off the best I could. “You look amazing, Catherine.”
“Yes,” she nodded, “I do. And you look…” She eyed me up and down and pursed her lips together. “You look like something, I suppose.”
I felt the anxiety building as her undercutting comments tried to make hooks within me. They were so bad for my nerves that I felt like I was going to vomit.
Wait.
No.
I was vomiting.
Oh my gosh.
I threw up on Catherine’s designer shoes.
The whole room stared at me in disbelief.
Before I could even consider an apology, another wave of nausea hit me, forcing me to dash to the restroom and fall into a stall. Before I knew it, I was throwing up violently. I felt two hands wrap around my dangling hair and pull it out of the way of the toilet as I purged the contents of my stomach.
When I recovered from vomiting, I sat back on my heels.
“Are you okay?” Damian asked.
I went to reply but began throwing up again.
“Food poisoning, maybe?” he wondered, but my thoughts were veered in a different direction as I tried to do the math in my head. When was the last time I was on my period? It couldn’t have been that long ago, could it? Then again, it was always irregular.
My mind was racing as I shook my head. “Will you take me somewhere?” I asked.
We stood in the tampon aisle of the drugstore dressed to the nines in our fancy outfits, but we weren’t there to get tampons, unfortunately.
I stared at the different pregnancy tests in front of me. A wave of sickness hit me, but I wasn’t certain if it was from being ill earlier or the idea that I might be pregnant.