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Her tears fell more than before.
I grimaced a bit and wrapped my hands around the neck of the glass. Her discomfort was making me uncomfortable. Her sadness was making me sad. I wasn’t one to feel others’ emotions. Most of the time, I felt as if humans were over the top and dramatic with their feelings. But, as I sat beside the crying Stella, all I wanted to do was take away her pain and feel it all for her.
“Do you think I love him?” she asked.
“Yes.” I said that without hesitation, either. “But that’s not shocking because I think you love the whole world.”
“And how much of the world do you love?”
“None.”
That made her cry more.
“That’s really sad, Damian.”
I shrugged, not feeling much emotion to it at all. “It’s easier that way.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because if you don’t love the world, it cannot hurt you.”
“Yeah, but if you don’t love the world, it can’t love you back.”
“Exactly. Shit only gets complicated when love is involved.”
She picked up a stone and tossed it out to the ocean. “I’d rather love in a complicated way than not love at all.”
“To each their own,” I replied, chugging down my wine. I placed the glass down on the ground and felt a knot in my stomach. I wanted to ask questions that I had no business asking. I wanted to know things that were out of line. Normally, I would’ve kept my thoughts to myself, but I couldn’t help it. They were eating at me.
“Why were you with him?” I asked.
She raised an eyebrow. “With Jeff?”
“Yes. No offense, but it doesn’t seem like you have anything in common. And, well, he treated you like shit.”
“You’ve only met him twice.”
“I knew the type of man he was within an hour.”
“And what kind of man is that?”
“One who’s not good enough for you.”
“Because I’m good enough?” she asked.
“More than.”
“Then why don’t I believe it,” she whispered, with drops of annoyance in her voice.
I wasn’t sure what to say because she was clearly upset but also so deeply sad. I wasn’t good at consoling people. All I could think to do was go break Jeff’s nose, but I doubted that would’ve helped Stella in her current state.
“Who was the first person to make you feel unworthy?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. You never forget your first heartbreaks. Trust me. Think hard.”
She lowered her brows before standing up to her feet. She walked down to the water, stumbling a bit, making it clear she didn’t need one more sip of wine. I “accidentally” knocked over her wine and poured mine out, too. She didn’t even notice.
