54. Stella
CHAPTER 54
STELLA
E veryone keeps asking if I’m okay, and the question is starting to seem ridiculous.
I’m not sure I’ll ever be okay.
Marissa gives me looks all through dinner, even though I try to act normal. As soon as Jessie’s out of earshot, she insists on knowing what’s wrong.
“I’ll tell you later.” I’m too angry to talk about it, even if we had privacy.
The men have been texting me all evening, ever since I sent them away. I’m going to have to block their numbers, because apparently, I’m some kind of game for them to play.
I make it through the rest of the evening, but after Jessie falls asleep, I break down.
Marissa finds me in my room and offers me a box of tissues. Without saying a word, she sits next to me and rubs my back as I cry.
“I shouldn’t be wasting my tears on them,” I say eventually, as I try to pull myself together.
“Your tears aren’t for anyone else. They’re to help you feel better. Let it out.”
I take a deep breath and blot my eyes. “I’m so angry at myself. I’m so stupid.”
“You’re not. Don’t talk that way,” Marissa says gently.
“I trusted them, even though I knew better!”
My friend starts to rub my back again. “What happened?”
So I tell her everything. How I decided to be with the men even though I was warned, even though I knew they were players. And against my better judgement, I allowed myself to fall hard for them, even though I knew I shouldn’t.
I tell her all about what Trish said today, even though recounting it makes me feel like I could throw up.
“It’s all just a game to them,” I tell her. “Why would they take me out, and even say they wanted to be in Jessie’s life, and then fuck around with their editor? I’m so disgusted with them, and so disappointed in myself.”
“Stop blaming yourself. You didn’t do anything wrong. You gave them a chance, and it didn’t work out. There’ll be more men.”
I snort. “Who even wants more men? Are there any good ones out there?”
Marissa’s tone is wry. “It does seem that the good ones are few and far between, but they’re out there. Look at Ana and her men. Our old roommate Callie found a couple of good ones, too. I guess it’s true about having to kiss a lot of toads.”
A traitorous little part of my brain thinks that if toads kiss the way Cam and Wyatt did, then I’m happy with toads. I tell my brain to shut up and stop reminding me what good kissers they were, and then I’m sad and angry all over again at the thought of never kissing them again.
My phone buzzes with another text.
“It’s probably them,” I tell Marissa. “I need them to stop.”
“It’s hard to believe they’d need to be told, after what they did, but maybe they’re used to women letting them get away with that shit. Maybe you should talk to them. Explain that you’re done, and tell them to stop contacting you.”
“I don’t think I can stand to look at them.”
I slide my phone out. “Please can we talk?” Cam’s latest message is at the end of a string from both him and Wyatt that I don’t bother to read.
“Can you meet us out by the fence for a minute?” Wyatt sends.
I show the screen to Marissa. “Perfect. I won’t have to look at them.”
Their faces will disgust me, but if I’m being honest, I’m afraid that seeing them will hurt too much.
“I’ll be out in five minutes,” I tell them, and then I use that time to splash cold water on my face and pull myself together.
They don’t deserve to know how much they hurt me. Maybe that’s part of their game, too, and I’m not giving them the satisfaction.
I wonder if their story about how they started Battle Duel Boys as a family channel is all a lie, too. Maybe they get so much pleasure out of getting women to fall for them that they found an international platform for it. Charm, hook, repeat, repeat. I’m such a fool.
I make sure to leave Goldfish inside, because I don’t need him wagging his tail with excitement for our horrible neighbors.
My feet are like lead as I cross the lawn. I just want to get this over with so I can crawl into my bed, deep under the covers, and make the world go away.
“Stella?” It’s Cam’s voice, right next to the fence.
I remember angling my view just right so that I could see them through the fence. Tonight, I stay firmly in front of a wooden slat. I don’t want to risk a glimpse. If they look over the top of the fence, using their stupid tall height, I’ll ignore them.
“I’m here.”
“Stella, what’s wrong?” Wyatt sounds strangled with pain. What a pathetic act.
How dare they fuck me, then fuck their editor—and god knows who else—and act like they’re the victims?
“We’re done,” I say. “What you do is your own business, but it’s not what I want for myself, and it’s not what I want to show my daughter.” Just the thought of Jessie almost makes me break down, but I manage to continue. “I may make terrible choices when it comes to men, but I won’t settle, and I’m never going to let her think it’s okay to stay with men who don’t respect women.”