To See You
SARAH
I saw Cullen typing.
Then deleting.
Then typing again.
The dots came and went, and I didn’t know what he was writing or struggling not to write but I stared at the screen until finally a message came through.
“Are you sure?”
That was it. No excitement at the prospect of seeing me again. No “hey,” no lead-in. Just a blunt, quiet question that hit harder than it should have. I picked up my phone. Typed.
“Don't you want to see me?”
It didn’t take long for his response.
“I do. I’m just surprised is all. After what happened yesterday, and you told me you wouldn’t need to see me today, I wasn’t expecting it.”
“Well, I want to see you,” I fired back. Short. Direct. Unapologetic.
This time, he took longer. I could feel the hesitation on the screen. But then it came.
“Whatever you want, princess.”
And just like that, the air shifted.
I hated it.
I hated the word. Princess. It was Bella’s nickname. It was what the Cincinnati boys always called her, probably the whole family. She wore it like a crown, and he used it like a worship song. That word never belonged to me. So why now?
Was it a slip? Or worse, was it intentional?
Had he finally replaced her in his mind... with me?
And if so, was that good? Or was it just tragic?
I stared at the word, angry without knowing exactly why, and more confused than I wanted to admit. I couldn’t explain this over text. I couldn’t even explain it to myself. I just... felt it. Sharp. Tangled. Cold.
Then another message buzzed in.
“No pressure. I do want to see you, right now. But it’s okay if we can’t see each other that early.”
No pressure.
That pissed me off more. It was too casual, too careful. Like he was already letting me off the hook. Like I didn’t matter. Like this didn’t matter.
'If you don’t want to see me, that’s fine.' That’s what I read between the lines. That’s what made my hand clench around the phone, and my chest throb with a rage I couldn’t name.
So I did the only thing I could do because I didn't want to lash out at him or act crazy and needy. I turned off my phone. And dropped myself on the bed.
I don’t know how long I stayed like that. Maybe minutes. Maybe hours. The weight of everything pressing down on me, pressing in, until I didn’t even know what I wanted anymore. I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I just lay there, trapped in a body that didn’t want to move and a heart that didn’t know what to feel.
Then there was a knock on the door.
I didn’t answer.
The voice on the other side was soft, almost pleading.
“Come on, Angel. Please let me in. Can we talk for a few minutes?”
My father. I sighed.
“Come in.”
My father walked in, cautious like he was stepping into someone else's room, not his daughter's. He looked at me nervously, that same protective look he always wore.
"Can I sit down?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said, shrugging.
He took a seat in the chair beside my bed and turned to look at me, but I didn’t return his gaze. I wasn’t mad at him, not really. I was frustrated, mostly at myself, and maybe a little at the fact that everything felt like it was slipping sideways.
"Look, Angel," he started. "I’m sorry."
"That’s it?"
"It’s okay," I muttered. Because now it was okay. I didn’t even want to go out anymore. Not if I wasn’t going to see Cullen.
"I do want you to have your freedom," he added quickly, as if scared I might change my mind again. "I mean, you’re a big girl now."
"I’m a woman," I said, meeting his eyes for the first time.
He paused, then nodded. “Yes. You’re a big woman now. And you have every right to want a life outside this house. But you just survived a near-death experience. If you want to go out, I will go with you. Just not today.”
I didn't reply.
"How about tomorrow?" he offered. “I’ll take us out for ice cream, and we can go shopping. We could even go to Disneyland if you fancy.”
His voice was light, like he was trying to keep it playful. And, I was trying to remind myself that I was no longer the Sarah who needed to ask permission for joy. I was someone new now. Someone stronger. Someone who had love, real love maybe even on the line.
So I nodded.
"I would love that," I said.
He smiled, kissed my forehead, and left the room.
That evening, he texted me to say he wouldn’t be able to make it to dinner. So I ate alone. Quietly. Methodically. Just me and the sound of a fork on porcelain. When I returned to my bedroom, I sat on the bed and stared at my phone. And then I turned it on.
The screen lit up with notifications. Missed calls. Messages....Cullen.
Seconds later, it rang.
I picked up.
"Hey," I said.
"Hey," he said back.
Then silence. Thick, uncertain silence.
"I didn’t think you were going to pick up," he finally said.
"Well, I did pick up. So… what is it?"
"I think I messed up somewhere," he confessed. "The messages, I re-read them over and over, and I don’t know. I think maybe you thought I didn’t want to see you, but... Sarah..."
His voice dipped low.
"You don’t know how blue my balls are right now. They want to shrink off and abandon ship."
I went bright red. Crimson. Fire engine, embarrassing red. Even though he couldn’t see me.
This wasn’t the kind of conversation I was used to having. But Cullen? Cullen kept going.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
