I Know
SARAH
He’s sitting right beside me. And yet, it feels like he’s suddenly everywhere around me, inside me, stirring up everything I’d tried so hard to keep still.
“I knew today was your birthday,” he says quietly.
My eyes fly open, startled.
He’s holding something in his hand. Small. Wrapped in dark blue velvet. He places it gently in my palm and then withdraws his hand like it’s too much to keep touching me, like even this moment is overwhelming.
“I know I didn’t deserve to remember,” he continues, “but I did. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
I look down at the small box. I don’t open it right away. I just stare at it, my heart beating like it’s about to break out of my chest.
“You remembered my birthday?” I whisper.
He nods. “I know everyone here probably got you something bigger, flashier, more expensive. But I wanted to give you something different. Something that reminded me of who you are... The feisty woman I married.”
I slowly open the box, and inside is a pendant. A simple, gold necklace. But the pendant is a tiny compass elegant, delicate, with a single gem at the centre that looks like a sapphire.
“This is for when yo feeling lost. I know sometimes you just want to go somewhere and know you’d never be hurt again.”
I lift the necklace out with trembling fingers.
“I know it’s just a small thing,” he adds. “But I wanted you to have something that reminds you... You’ll always find your way. And I hope it leads you back to me again.”
For a long moment, I don’t say anything. The necklace sits in my hand, cool and beautiful, and my chest aches so much it physically hurts.
“Cullen,” I murmur.
He shakes his head. “Don’t say anything. I didn’t give it to get something back. I just... wanted you to know. I’m still listening. I still remember and I'm still here. I will fight for us. I will fight for this marriage, it's my turn now. You’re worth it.”
That’s when the silence in the room changes. It isn’t awkward anymore. It’s heavy with emotion and real. And even though I should be afraid of what this means, of what I feel, I find myself clutching the compass in my palm... and wishing I could let myself get lost in him again.
I don’t know when or how, but we find ourselves pulled toward each other. It's like something invisible is reeling us in—something we can't name but both feel.
Cullen is so close to me now that I could count his eyelashes. I look into his eyes, and I see something there, uncertainty, hope, fear, want. Our breathing has changed, quiet and uneven, like the air itself is trembling between us.
I notice the way his gaze flickers to my lips. He swallows. And so do I.
“I really, really want to kiss you,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.
My heart skips. “Then kiss me,” I hear myself say, softer than I expected.
Cullen bites his lower lip, hesitating. “I don’t think I should,” he says.
“Why?” I ask, voice trembling with something I can’t name.
He breathes out slowly, eyes on mine. “I just... It’s a compulsion. And... I don’t think I’ve earned it. I don’t think I’m worth it.”
Something in me aches at that. I don’t know if it’s for him, or for the version of me that still wants our marriage to work.
“Kiss me,” I say again, firmer this time.
His eyes widen just a little. There’s a war going on inside him, I can see it on his face. The longing. The guilt. The hunger. The hesitation. And then… he suddenly stops.
His face is still so close to mine, his breath mingling with mine, but he’s frozen. His lips hover a breath away, and I can see the storm in his eyes. Doubt. Conflict. Fear.
He’s questioning everything, himself, me, and this moment.
I know that look. He’s thinking about what he’s done. About what he didn’t do. About whether he has the right to touch me, to kiss me, to want me.
And I realise, with a jolt of panic, that if I don’t move, if I don’t do something, he won’t do it. He’ll pull away. He’ll swallow the moment like it never happened. And I don’t know if we’ll ever get this moment again.
This is my birthday. I’ve been through so much. I’ve almost died. I’ve been heartbroken and numb and so, so angry. But right now, in this second, with him here....I want this.
I deserve this kiss. So I do the one thing I know I won’t regret.BI close the distance. I press my trembling lips to his, soft at first, like asking a question. He goes still for a moment, his massive body freezing as if he’s been shot. His lips are cold and unmoving. But it’s only a moment.
A growl rips from deep inside him as he kisses me with a ruthless vigour that steals my thoughts.
It’s not a kiss, it’s a possession. His lips move against mine with a rough intensity, leaving no room for breath or softness. His fingers tighten around my throat, angling my face up so he can devour me. The kiss is a clash, a war and heat as he grazes his teeth over my bottom lip and plunges his tongue in and consumes mine.
The taste of him is fire, scorching every thought from my mind. His breath is harsh against my mouth, his lips relentless, like he’s trying to swallow me up, break me. There’s no finesse in the way he kisses. It’s neither controlled nor refined. It’s as if he’s never kissed before and I get to witness every second of every bit of his brutal, heated, explosive power. I crave it. I love it.
His kiss is furious. It’s dangerous. It’s everything. I hold on to that unrestrained part of him, needing more and everything. I keep moaning in his mouth as he continues to kiss me.
“Sarah! Sarah!” I hear my name outside the door.
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