Didn't Sign Up For This

BELLA

"Well, for starters," I said carefully, "she came to the party dead drunk. She could’ve caused a real scene here. You know what that would’ve looked like?"

He shook his head and waved me off. "I already told the driver to take her home. So I don’t think that’s a problem."

"Except she came back," I pressed, "wearing jeans and a hoodie. She was a mess, Cullen. The bodyguards didn’t even recognize her. They thought she was a beggar and gave her money. And then she threw up right there... She hasn’t been eating. She’s spiralling."

He stopped, looking at me like I’d just grown another head.

"Yes," I said firmly. "All of that happened. And I’m telling you, you need to start taking care of your wife."

He let out a bitter laugh. "How is that my fault? She drinks because she wants to. What? Do you think if I magically turn into some picture-perfect husband, she’ll just stop drinking? Stop acting out? She’ll start acting like you?"

I stiffened. "Don’t do that."

"Do what?"

"Stop comparing her to me."

"I’m not...."

"Yes, you are." I met his eyes, unwavering. "So what if I have dark hair and she’s blonde? I’m fair, she’s got freckles. Maybe I’m taller, maybe I’m not. Why don’t you stop focusing on those surface things and get to know her.... really know her? She’s a good person, Cullen. She has a kind heart. She’s just... confused. And hurting."

He laughed again, that same bitter sound. "There you go again. Do you even know what she said about you? She called you a whore."

That stunned me. For a second, I couldn't breathe.

"What?" I whispered.

I thought I understood Cullen. And I knew how he dealt with things with sarcasm, distance, and avoidance. But this? This felt different. Cold. Calculated.

"This isn’t right," I said, more to myself than to him. "This isn’t how you fix anything, Cullen."

"Well, in case you haven’t heard," Cullen said, his voice flat, "I don’t want to fix anything. I’m not interested in that marriage. I’m not interested in Sarah. The only thing I’m doing is keeping up appearances until one of us dies. Hopefully sooner rather than later. That’s the only way we’ll ever be free of each other."

He turned to leave, but I couldn’t let it end there. I reached out, grabbing his jacket.

"What about her?" I asked.

He stopped but didn’t turn around.

"I am asking as your friend," I said, more firmly. "You really mean this? You’re okay with this? Living like this?"

"Yeah," he said without hesitation. "This is exactly the life I want. And thank you so much, you and Cyrus, for giving us Caesar. Now nobody has to pressure me into having a child."

"You're forgetting one thing," I told him coldly. "For the contract to be valid and unbreakable, there has to be a child, one who carries both bloodlines: Italian and Mafia."

He tilted his head like he was pretending to think it over, then smirked.

"That’s why we have science," he said with a shrug. "I don’t have to sleep with her for her to carry a child. Thanks for your concern, Bella. Really. But I don’t need it."

"Cullen, wait..." I started, but then my phone rang.

I pulled it out. Cyrus.

"Just give me a minute," I told Cullen.

He gave me a mocking smile and walked away. If I wanted to finish that conversation, I’d have to track him down later.

I answered the call. "Hey, honey, what’s going on?"

"She fucking vomited on me!" Cyrus snapped.

I flinched, holding back a sigh. "Oh... sorry...."

"Goddamn it, Bella! I didn’t sign up for this. I shouldn’t be here dealing with this. I should be with my parents, celebrating their marriage, not babysitting a drunk sister-in-law! Cullen should be here...."

"Okay, okay, calm down," I said. "Your bedroom is still there. Just go change."

"Goddammit..."

"Where is she now?" I asked, cutting through his anger.

"She couldn’t even walk. I had to carry her into her room."

"And how is she? Is she okay?"

"Why are you asking about her?!" he snapped again. "You should be asking how I’m doing!"

I laughed, knowing exactly what this meant.

"Cyrus, you’re being a baby."

"Yeah? Well, I am your baby." His voice softened, shifting into that teasing, flirtatious tone he always used when his mood changed.

"Why don’t you go change, then check on her again?" I said gently. "Try to get her to eat something. Please?"

He groaned. "Do I have to?"

"Yes. Please."

"You’re so gonna owe me for this."

"I'll give you just about everything you want," I said. "So, you better hurry and come back."

I heard him sigh on the other end. "Alright, I guess I’m doing this."

"Yes, you’re doing this. I’m so proud of you."

"You’re proud of me for taking care of a drunk woman? Oh my God, what did I do wrong in life?"

I laughed as I hung up the phone.

Of course, when I turned around Cullen wasn’t there anymore. Classic. He didn’t want to have this conversation. I sighed and headed back into the party, blending into the crowd, chatting, dancing, smiling, playing the perfect hostess, waiting for Cyrus to call again.

Finally, he did.

"Alright, fine. I’m on my way back," he said.

"Okay, but did you get her the food?"

"Yeah, she got the food."

"Are you sure she ate it? You have to make sure she eats it. If you just give it to her and walk away, she won’t touch it."

"Yes, I made sure she ate it. I even had to spoon-feed her at first. Happy now?"

I smiled. That actually did make me happy. I pictured Cyrus awkwardly sitting with Sarah, gently coaxing food into her mouth. The image was both sweet and ridiculous.

"That’s amazing," I said.

"I do not want to talk about it ever again."

"Okay..." I said laughing, "Did she take a bath already?"

"I am not giving her a bath..."

"Okay, fine. And no, I’m not asking you to bathe her." I said laughing hard.

"You’re insane."

"Just draw her a bath or something."

"Fine. I’ll draw the bath. But then I’m coming right back."

"One more favour," I said.

"What now?" he snapped.

"Just… after she goes to take a bath, could you stay ten or fifteen minutes? Just to make sure she doesn’t fall in or something stupid."
Betrayed by Desire
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