Page 81 of Selfish Desires

I closed my eyes, tears falling silently down my cheeks. The image of Vincent's face flashed in my mind. I could hear his deep voice vibrating in my ear and feel his rough fingers tracing gentle patterns on the small of my back. I longed for him, yearned for his touch, his presence. But the harsh reality was that he was gone, and there was no telling when or if we’d ever be together again.

“I hate to spring this on you now, but Stephen is eating at the counter. He kind of seems down.” Marissa scrunched her nose.

“Is he alone?” I fought to keep my voice steady.

Marissa nodded. “He's been nursing the same cup of coffee for the past hour. Hasn't said much.”

“Oh wow. I didn’t realize I was back here for that long.” I sat up, smoothing my hair.

“It’s okay.” Marissa shrugged. “Everything is under control, I just needed to tell you about Stephen. He kind of looks like he wants to talk to you.”

I raised a questioning eyebrow. Why me?

“About what?” I questioned, trying to suppress the unease rising within me. Stephen and I hadn't interacted much since Vincent nabbed his poker table. When we did, it was laced with tension and disapproval.

“I don't know.” Marissa’s hands twisted into the hem of her apron. “But he seems sad. Not the usual happy, perky Stephen, we know.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. I didn't need this, not now when things were already spiraling out of control. But a part of me felt like I owed it to Stephen to at least hear him out. He was, after all, my first friend here in Newport when I had originally arrived here a broken woman.

“Alright, give me a minute.” I stood, brushed off my skirt, and adjusted my top, suddenly self-conscious. Why was I nervous? It was just Stephen.

Marissa offered an encouraging smile, patting my arm. “Just breathe.” And then she disappeared to tend to the waiting customers.

Steadying myself, I made my way toward the counter where Stephen sat hunched over his lukewarm coffee, his shoulders slumped in a way that suggested defeat. Seeing him like this filled me with a strange sense of dread.

I cleared my throat, announcing my presence.

“Stephen.” I smiled, taking a hesitant step closer.

He peered up at me, his face momentarily holding a flash of surprise before it smoothed out into a familiar smile. The sadness Marissa had mentioned was there, lurking in the depths of his eyes.

“Wendy.” His voice was low and subdued, unlike the cheerful and boisterous Stephen he usually was.

I frowned, pulling up a stool to sit beside him. “Are you okay?” It felt like we were on a precipice—one wrong word and everything would collapse.

He shrugged. “Just one of those days.” Except, there was more than a bad day etched on his face.

“Talk to me.” I shifted closer. Despite everything, I found myself willing to listen to Stephen's problems.

He was quiet for a long time before finally making a decision. Stephen’s words came out in a rush, as if he'd held them back for too long. “What am I doing wrong? I try to be a gentleman. I pick the nice restaurants. Pay for the bill. Walk her home one night, drive her home the next. We were doing great.”

“Woah. Back up.” I signaled with my hands. “Who are you talking about?”

“I started to date this really nice girl,” Stephen blurted.

“Does she have a name?” I bit my lip, fighting a grin.

“It doesn’t matter now. I've been completely ghosted after four fun and really nice dates.” Stephen slashed his fingers against his neck. “Like, why would she do that? And before she decided to ignore me, she was texting me nonstop. I mean, I liked it. I loved speaking to her. But seriously? Where did it come from?”

“For her to turn from hot to cold on you so quickly, she just sounds immature to me.” I shrugged.

Stephen sighed, his head dropping into his hands. “You think? I mean, I thought we had something good going on.”

“Maybe you did.” I patted his arm. “But it's her loss. If she can't see what an amazing person you are, she's not worth your time.”

Stephen dropped his head, shaking it. “It’s just unfair. I’m sick of being alone.” He lifted his gaze to meet mine. “Do you ever feel that way?”

I blinked, taken aback by his question. My heart pounded as I thought of Vincent, our love whose conclusion remained unknown. Did I ever feel alone? All the time.

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