Other Women
SARAH
I walked further into the room, my arms full of the clothes I had picked out for dinner. The maids had offered to bring them upstairs for me, of course, but I had refused. I didn’t want any extra eyes on my room. On him.
“I’m gonna start getting ready for my dinner party,” I told him, moving to set the clothes down. “Apparently, my brothers are coming. And it's a huge deal.”
He looked up at me and said gently, “Can I talk to you?”
I swallowed. I couldn’t say no, even though a part of me felt a flicker of panic. I didn’t want to talk about that. About them. I didn’t want the mood ruined with talk about the kiss or what that meant.
“Yeah,” I said finally clearing my throat.
“Can you sit down?” he asked, smiling.
So I sat down beside him.
“Now... is there any way we can do that meeting we had agreed to? Is there any way I can see you outside this house?” he asked.
Before I could answer, he added quickly, “Please, this time, don’t lie. If you’re not going to come, just tell me now. I’ll find a way to talk to you, but I want the truth.”
“Okay, fine,” I said, nodding. “But not tomorrow."
"All right! Not tomorrow..."
."I'll tell you when I am ready.”
He nodded. “I gave you my number... but you didn’t call me. You told me your father bought you a new phone though. Do you mind giving me your number? So that when you feel like you want to see me, you can either call or text or whatever.”
I realised I hadn’t saved his number. I hadn’t even taken it when I should’ve. So this time, we exchanged properly. I saved his, and he saved mine. No more avoiding it. No more pretending we were ghosts to each other.
Then he smiled, leaning back a little, the tension easing.
“Okay,” he said. “When you start getting ready for your dinner with family—, your birthday dinner—I’ll look the other way. Just pretend I am not here.”
I laughed. “Really?”
He nodded seriously. “Really.”
And, true to his word, he didn’t turn around once.
I went into the bathroom and started changing. Did my hair. Light makeup. Careful touches, nothing overdone. The kind of effort you only make when you don’t know what to expect but still want to walk in like you’re whole.
He didn’t look. Not one single time. And something about that, his restraint, his respect made me feel even more exposed than if he had looked.
“I am ready,” I finally say, teasing lightly as I step out.
Cullen turns to look at me.
I had chosen a white dress, simple but elegant. My hair was braided into a crown atop my head, soft curls trailing behind. I wore silver earrings that caught the light just right, and silver heels to match. I had dressed for myself. To feel like me again.
But Cullen’s mouth seemed to go dry the moment he saw me. His eyes widened, fixed.
“What?” I asked, half turning to the mirror, scanning my reflection in case something was off.
“You’re perfect,” he said softly.
And I immediately blushed.
“Stop saying things like that,” I mumbled, fiddling with one of my earrings.
“You are,” he insisted. “You’ve always been.”
There’s something genuine in his voice that makes my chest tighten.
“You don’t know how hard it’s been... sleeping next to you on the bed and not touching you. Not being able to feel you.” His voice lowers, vulnerable. “And that day... when you wore that lingerie... I died with blue balls. It nearly killed me.”
I snort a laugh, but it’s not really funny. I tilt my head, watching him carefully now.
“I bet you ran to someone else to fill that hunger,” I say, sharper than I intended.
His eyes widen further—but this time not with lust. Not with affection. Not even anger.
Surprise.
“Other women?” he echoes. “There have never been other women.”
I study him. I don’t believe him. Not fully. How could I? We were married for a year. A whole year. And he never touched me. Not once. And now he wants to stand here and tell me that there were no mistresses? No hookups? No women on the side? No one he used to drown out the silence between us?
And let's not begin talking about Bella.....I don’t think so. I don’t think so.
But I don’t argue either. I just look away, suddenly unsure whether I want to know the truth.
“Sarah, I’m serious,” Cullen suddenly says, standing up from the bed.
He looks better, stronger than he did yesterday. Even than this morning. There’s more colour in his face, more fire behind his eyes.
“Sarah, I’m serious,” he says again, stepping closer and taking my hands. His grip is firm, his touch steady. “There have never been other women.”
I open my mouth to say something, but he speaks first, faster.
“And we both know it’s not because I was falling in love with you,” he says with a crooked, sad smile. “I meant those vows I made. As much as I’m a bastard... I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”
I blink, caught off guard.
“I thought about it,” he confesses, and my stomach turns. “I really did. I thought about doing it. I even tried once....”
“You mean when you were inside another woman?” I cut in, the words sharp before I can pull them back.
“No,” he says quickly, shaking his head, “I mean when I started talking to these other women. You know, conversations that were supposed to lead somewhere. To something physical. Something meaningless.”
He pauses. There’s a flicker of shame in his eyes.
“But every time, Sarah—every single time—it felt... I don’t know... wrong. So immensely dirty. Like I was betraying not just you, but myself. And I know I don’t always do the right thing, but I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t cross that line.”
I stare at him, uncertain.
“My father,” he adds quietly, “absolutely loathes cheating. I know a lot of powerful men who do whatever they want. But if he had found out... if he’d seen his own son doing that... I think it would have crushed him.”
He stops there. The weight of his words hangs between us. I look at our hands, still joined. His thumb brushes lightly over my knuckles, slow, soft.
I don’t know what to say. I don’t know whether I believe him at all ....
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