Wine
“Trust me, Sarah,” he said, voice low and venomous. “You don’t want to see my bad side. You think our marriage is bad now? Cross Bella and see what happens. I’ll make what Cyrus did to her look like child’s play. That will actually look like a romantic movie compared to what I’d do to you.”
He let the words linger in the air. And I just stood there frozen, wide-eyed, the tears streaming down my cheeks. Because with that one twisted speech, he managed to hit the one place in me I kept buried deep. He made me feel worthless. Stupid. Small. But somehow, in the ugliest way, he also made me feel like I didn't matter.
He stripped away every belief I had about myself, every lie I clung to, every dream I still held onto in the dark corners of my mind.
Now I saw my life for what it really was.
I didn’t matter.
Maybe if Cullen ever laid a hand on me.... maybe if something really bad happened, my father would care. Maybe my brothers would try to defend me. Maybe they’d demand revenge.
But… would they?
There was a time I would’ve said yes without even blinking, not when it came to my father. But now? After the last conversation we had, how cold he was, how quickly he hung up, how he always had a meeting... I couldn’t be so sure. I had called. Once more. Just once more. And he dismissed me like a stranger. “I have a meeting.” That’s all he said.
Has anyone… ever loved me?
That thought hit deeper than I expected.
And as Cullen stood there, throwing threats and contempt, I found myself slipping. Slipping out of my own body, out of that room, out of this nightmare of a life. I could see myself... this broken, shaken version of me and I didn’t like what I saw. I didn’t want to admit that this person… this shadow of a girl… was me.
But she was. And I hated her.
“Are you listening?”
Cullen’s voice pulled me back to earth like a slap. I blinked through the haze of my tears, trying to focus on him, trying to hold it together. I wiped my cheeks quickly. I had promised myself I wouldn't cry in front of him. Not him.
“You said you wanted us to talk,” he continued coldly. “You said we’re married and we should talk. Well, there’s your talk.”
Then he opened the door and walked out like I was nothing.
I gave myself two minutes. Just two. To breathe. To gather the pieces of myself from the floor. Then I walked out of the room, not even knowing what room I’d been locked in and headed straight for the front door. Bella’s front door.
I stepped outside. Took two steps.
A car pulled up just then, stopping neatly in the driveway. And out came Margaret, Bella’s nanny and the maid. They smiled and waved cheerfully as if everything in the world was just perfect. I watched them as they started unloading shopping bags from the trunk, chatting casually, walking toward the house I had just been thrown out of.
And I laughed.
Not the happy kind of laugh. The hollow, ironic, you-have-to-be-kidding-me kind of laugh. Because, of course, now the house was full again. Now people were here. Now it looked innocent.
Cyrus wasn't home.
My mother-in-law was gone.
My father-in-law? Nowhere to be seen.
And just when the house is empty, just when everything aligns... Cullen’s there. Half-naked. Wet hair. Alone in the house with Bella. Not even the maids were there when I arrived.
I didn’t want to follow the thought to its end. I didn’t need to. It was clear.
I turned around and walked back to the Cincinnati house. Straight to my room. I didn’t even hesitate. I filled the tub, poured in the bubbles, grabbed a bottle of champagne from the minibar, and let myself sink into the warm water.
Glass in hand, eyes on the ceiling, I asked myself the question that had been building inside me for too long.
What kind of life is this?
What kind of life am I even living?
And quietly, in the back of my mind, I asked the one that hurt the most:
Is it even worth living?
The water had already gone cold by the time I finally stepped out of the bathtub. I thought maybe I’d have the strength to say okay, to go out there, smile, and enjoy the day like it didn’t matter. But no. I couldn’t pretend. All I wanted was to be alone.
So, I stayed in bed. Lazy, still, wrapped in the comfortable silence.
That was the first time I knew for sure, Cullen hadn’t come back to the house. He didn’t sleep there. He and Bella were probably out somewhere, taking advantage of Cyrus being away. And in that moment, I made a decision.
I was done caring.
Done with the Cincinnati name, because Cullen was right... none of them would ever take my side.
Done with Bella and her fake, two-faced friendship.
Done with Cullen and our hollow marriage, where I played the ghost and he played the grieving hero.
I wasn’t going to care anymore.
To keep myself sane, I started clinging to wine like it was a lifeline. It offered a distraction, a warm haze that pulled me into a world where nothing hurt. I’d have breakfast, then sneak a bottle to my room, making sure my mother-in-law didn’t see, even though I’m sure she knew. I’d pour a glass or two, then sleep.
Eat. Drink. Escape. Sleep.
In that bubbly, blurry world, everything felt easier. Quieter. I didn’t care if Cullen came back or not. Didn’t care if he ignored me. I didn’t even acknowledge him anymore.
I kept things civil with the rest of the Cincinnati family... smiles, nods, hollow pleasantries. Nothing more.
And when Bella continued coming over, pretending we were still close.
"Hey, want to go swimming?"
" Want to go shopping?"
"Want to chill at the pool?"
I’d just shake my head and say, Sorry, I have a headache. Or I’m not feeling well.
Eventually, she stopped trying.
Maybe she read the room. Maybe she realized I wasn’t going to play her little games anymore. If she came over, she didn’t seek me out anymore and I didn’t give a damn. Not one bit.
Because I realized something, it was me against all of them. And since I couldn’t fight back, I carved out a little space for myself. A safe, blurry space. And wine offered that. So I grabbed it with both hands and held on.
I was no longer trying to be the perfect wife. The perfect daughter-in-law. The perfect anything.
I was graduating. Becoming the icon for I don’t give a fuck.
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