Page 92 of Western Waves

“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 then 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, diving 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 even though I was hurting, something beautiful could’ve been created from the destruction.

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 what I’d created, 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, looking back down at his paperwork.

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.”