Sarah - Mr Cincinnati
I felt his words crash down on me. I couldn’t look at him anymore. I had no strength left, so I lowered my gaze, unable to meet his eyes anymore.
But he wasn’t done.
“Look at me,” he demanded, his voice hard.
I didn’t want to, but for some reason, my eyes shot open, and I found myself looking at him.
"Now, just to get a few things out of the way," he said, his voice cold, "I have no intention of getting to know you. One. Two. I have no intention of sleeping with you. I hope you fucked well where you come from because I'd never willingly stick my dick inside you...."
He said a lot of harsh, condescending words, each one cutting through me. But for some reason, when he said that....something inside me snapped. I had to defend myself, even though it was clearly pointless.
I couldn’t stop myself. I interrupted him before he could say more.
"That’s not true! I’m a virgin."
He scoffed, looking at me with disdain.
"Yeah, right." He muttered dismissively.
He didn’t even acknowledge what I said. Instead, he just carried on, his tone getting even more colder.
"Third," he continued, "I'm going to bed. You fucking open this door and try to come in there, and I'll shoot you right where you stand.... Just In case you're a dumb bitch, it means do not come into my fucking bedroom."
I couldn’t just let it slide. "So where am I supposed to sleep?" I argued, my voice trembling but defiant.
"Sleep on the sofa, sleep on the carpet, I don't give a fuck," he snapped back. "But if you open this door, little Sarah.... you're dead."
And just like that, he turned and walked into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him with a finality that left me standing there, alone and stunned.
I kept standing outside the bedroom door, and by now, I was just lost.
I was tired. The wedding had drained every ounce of energy from me...it was grand, exhausting, and overwhelming. And when we got here, all I could think about was how I was going to face Cullen.
Our night together. Our first night together. The fear. The nervousness.
And then he slammed the door in my face.
Just like that. No warning, just rejection. He didn’t just take me off the plan; he snatched away every last thread of expectation I had. I didn’t know what to do. So I sat down.
I slipped off my heels. The dress...God, this damn dress was itchy, heavy, suffocating. All I wanted was a shower. To breathe. To get out of it.
I walked back to the door and knocked again. Of course, my new husband didn’t respond.
“Cullen, open the door.”
Silence.
I could have opened the door to check if it was locked but I suspected he hadn't locked it and I was even more scared that he might actually shoot me.
“I’m not trying to sleep with you, okay? That is the last thing on my mind right now... I just need to take a shower. I need to get out of this dress. Today has been a long, long day. Just… please. Be a human being for once.”
I waited. Nothing.
My frustration was boiling over. I shouted again.
“I swear I’ll pee right here in front of this door if you don’t open it. I mean it. I need to use the bathroom, now!”
Still nothing.
My bladder was about to kill me. My dress was about to strangle me. This was officially the worst day ever.
With nothing left to do, I decide to leave the room and find somewhere...anywhere to relieve myself. I’m not going to pee inside like a dog just because Cullen is one.
I open the door, and to my surprise, find two guards posted right outside. One of them just stares, clearly not expecting to see me. They tense up immediately, eyes sharp, and I realize they probably think I’m trying to make a run for it.
My suspicions are confirmed when one of them speaks.
“Is everything alright?”
I take a deep breath, trying to keep my bladder in check while also putting on a brave face. The last thing I want is for them to know what just happened between me and Cullen.
“Yes,” I say as calmly as I can. “Everything is just fine.”
They exchange a glance before asking, “Where are you going?”
“I just need to use the bathroom.”
Then comes the question I don’t expect.
“Where is Mr. Cincinnati ?”
For a second, I forget who that even is. Mr. Cincinnati.
"Why would Mr. Cincinnati be in my room...my hotel room, in our honeymoon suite?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
Their reaction didn’t make sense. Why did they look so worried? Why would they think their boss, Cedric Cincinnati was in here?
I had just married his son.
They exchanged glances, and then the one I was already mentally labelling as the meaner one stepped forward.
“We mean Cullen Cincinnati,” he said, voice clipped. “Your husband, Mrs. Cincinnati .”
The way he added Mrs. hit like a slap. A reminder.
“Yeah... right,” I muttered, nodding slowly. “I’m Mrs. Cincinnati now,” I repeated, this time to myself, like I was trying to believe it.
Then came another jab from Mr. Mean.
“We’re going to have to ask you again, where is Mr. Cincinnati, your husband?”
I nearly screamed. I just wanted to go to the damn bathroom, not get interrogated.
“My new husband is inside,” I said, gesturing toward the bedroom. “Is there a problem?”
“If he’s inside,” the second guard asked sharply, “why isn’t he with you? There’s a bathroom inside your Suite. Why are you looking for one out here?”
The meaner one folded his arms.
“Is he okay? We’re afraid we can’t let you leave until we see Mr. Cincinnati .”
My eyes widened.
Oh. My. God...
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