Cullen - I Am Not
CULLEN
I paused at her insolence. Most people showed me respect without me having to do anything, but Sarah defied me in the most infuriating way possible. I decided to ignore her little dig at my manhood.
“I’m taking a shower. Go to bed and get some sleep.” I didn’t wait for her response and disappeared into the bathroom.
I took my time getting ready for bed, hoping Sarah would be asleep by then. When I emerged, Sarah stood in front of the window. At least she had put on a silky robe over the lingerie.
I stifled a sigh. “Why aren’t you in bed?”
She let out a small, disbelieving laugh. “Because I think we need to talk. We are married.”
“I don’t see what we need to talk about. Our marriage has been peaceful and quiet, which is all I want really.”
She stomped toward me, stopping so close that her scent flooded my nose. I don't know if it's her perfume or the soap she uses... Whatever it is, it's fucking with my head tonight.
“A lot. I want this marriage to work, but that won’t happen this way. Do you usually come home this late?.... Every day of the week?”
“Yes. I’m consigliere, Sarah .”
“My father’s the boss and so are my brothers, and they have more than enough time to waste on golf courses or on top of their women.”
A laugh wedged itself in my throat, but I suppressed it. “My work ethic is very different from theirs.”
“As your wife, I have a right to make demands so this marriage can work.”
My anger rose again, even as a small part of me was pleased.
“This marriage is one of convenience.”
Sarah’s eyes flashed. “I suppose it’s very convenient for you to have women for your personal pleasure and me as decoy.”
She was infuriating. I pulled her against me, my mouth so close to hers, for a moment I almost forgot myself.
"Listen here, little birdie."
“Did you just call me a bird?” she asked, a flash of disbelief crossing her face.
I ignored the question, pressing on. “However you try to get a rise out of me, whatever you do.... whether you wear those skimpy clothes or I find you naked, bent over with your legs wide open…” I paused, taking a breath, because damn it, the image snapped into my mind in full-blown 3D, and it hit harder than I wanted to admit.
But I held my ground.
“I will never fuck you,” I said coldly. “Just get that into your head. I won’t touch you. Is that clear? Good. Now, can we please go to bed?”
“No,” she snapped, defiant. “We’re not going to bed until we get to the bottom of this.”
“The bottom of what?” I asked, exasperated. “We already talked about this the day we got married. Or do you not remember?”
She shook her head. “You’re right, I don’t remember. So why don’t you remind me?”
I scoffed. “Fine. I told you I’d never touch you. I told you not to be scared of me, because I wanted nothing to do with you. I was very clear on that. Or was I not?”
Again, she shook her head, but I wasn’t sure if it was denial or disbelief. I didn’t care. I was done. My decision was made long ago and I wasn’t changing it.
“I don’t change my mind, little birdie,” I said firmly. “I’m not going to touch you. Do you think you can have an affair? Good. Do it. I’d love to see it.”
I leaned in slightly, my voice dropping.
“But let me repeat myself: no one is going to touch you. You can’t have an affair, because there’s no man who’d risk his life to be with you. None.”
I stepped back, letting the weight of my words settle.
“If I were you, I’d start investing in sex toys. Because that’s the only action you’re ever going to get.”
Her nose tilted up. “Then give me back to my parents, if I’m not satisfactory..., if you hate me so much... Didn’t you stipulate some kind of return in the deal?”
“Over my dead body,” I growled and jerked her against me. Remembering my promise, I ripped away from her and staggered a few steps back.
“This wasn’t meant to happen.”
Sarah’s face was flushed. “Why not?”
Her question threw me off. “I told you I won’t sleep with you... I won't touch you.”
Sarah swallowed and then smiled bashfully. And I knew what she’d say from the look of desire in her eyes before she uttered the words.
“What if I want you to?” Her voice was hesitant.
My pulse throbbed. It had excited me more than a little, something.... Or someone held me back.
"I don’t care if you want me to, Sarah," I said, my voice flat and full of indifference, sharp enough to slice through whatever hope she was clinging to.
I wanted her to feel how little I thought of her desire, her effort, her seduction.
"Even if you didn’t want me to, if I wanted to sleep with you, I would’ve done it a long time ago."
I watched her swallow and saw the defiance in her eyes flicker into something more fragile. She shook her head, then asked quietly,
"Are you sleeping with other women?"
For God's sake.
If only I could. That thought shot through my mind before I could suppress it. How I wished I could. But of course, I couldn’t. Not with my father’s rules about faithful marriages. Not with his voice constantly echoing in the back of my head about the responsibility that came with being part of the leading family. How we had to lead by example. How now that I was married, the idea of walking into one of our clubs and fucking whoever I wanted was officially off the table.
I gritted my teeth. “It’s none of your business.”
And that’s when the tears came, quiet but visible, slipping down her cheeks.
“You are,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “You’re sleeping with other women.”
“No. I’m not,” I said sharply. “I’m not.”
I hated this. I hated tears. I hated women crying in front of me. But more than that, I hated this woman crying in front of me. It didn’t make me feel guilty. It made me angry.
She stared at me, those watery eyes full of disappointment, confusion, maybe even.... heartbreak, but she didn’t say another word. She didn’t have to. I could see it all written on her face.
She didn’t believe me. And honestly? I didn’t give a damn.
I wasn’t trying to convince her. I wasn’t trying to prove anything to her. I wasn't here to coddle her or explain myself.
I wasn’t trying to prove shit to her.
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