When I pull away, my head is pounding and my face feels tight. Dad slips away to the half bath while Mom stays beside me, rubbing slow, soothing circles on my back. He returns a few seconds later with some tissues and hands them to me. I blow my nose, not caring how gross it sounds.
I exhale hard and lean back into the couch. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, Cullen, but it’s obvious you’ve held that in too long. It’s not healthy.” Dad’s gentle admonishment is very much Psychology 101.
“I know, but I felt like there was no point in admitting it out loud. He’ll never feel the same way,” I admit, deflated.
My parents exchange a quiet look. “Cullen, the only advice we can give is to be a supportive friend. We know it hurts to watch someone you care about dating someone else, but don’t push him away just because you don’t like his girlfriend.”
It’s not that I don’t like Ella… well, that’s not true. I’m not particularly fond of her. Probably because I’m just a possessive bastard and want to keep Hud to myself.
I meet my dad’s eyes and nod.
“Sweetheart, about Hadley—” Mom starts, but I cut her off.
“I know. I need to break up with her. It’s not fair when my heart isn’t with her. It’s just… hard.”
“We know, and we trust you’ll make the right decision soon.”
“I will. I’m gonna head to bed. I’m exhausted.”
“We love you. We’re here if you need to talk anything out.” Mom pats my knee and kisses my cheek.
“Thanks. Love you guys. Night.”
They send me off with a goodnight, settling down on the couch to resume their movie.
I trudge up the stairs and down the darkened hall to my bedroom, my body heavy. I kick off my shoes, collapse onto my unmade bed, and let out a groan. My chest feels like it was scraped raw after everything I just spilled downstairs.
Shimmying out of my jeans and my Henley, I toss them into the corner of my room. My hat comes off with the shirt, disappearing into the mess on my floor. When my jeans land with a clunk, I remember my phone and wallet are still in the pocket. I grunt as I get off the bed, then fish through the denim until I find my phone.
I sit on the edge of my bed and see I have no new notifications, and Hudson still hasn’t responded. Morbid curiosity makes me open our text thread, only to confirm he hasn’t even read it.
Plugging my phone into the charger beside my bed, I yawn and turn on the TV and navigate to my comfort show. I try to lose myself in the comedy about a bunch of nerds and their hot neighbor, but I can’t focus. My mind keeps wandering to where Hud and Ella went after Melvin’s and whether they’re having fun.
Of course they are.
He’s having such a great time that he hasn’t even bothered to check his phone. My stomach roils, and my chest feels like it's caving in. I don’t want him getting any closer to Ella than he already is. I want him to be happy, just not with her.
And fuck me for being selfish.
Twelve
Hudson
I’m lying in bed, staring at Cullen’s message he sent last night. It came right as Ella and I got to mini golf, and even though I saw the notification, I didn’t open it. I’m glad I didn’t. No one ever wants to hear the words “we need to talk.” But that’s what he wrote.
I replied moments ago, agreeing to meet him at our spot on the river at noon.
My mind keeps spinning with different scenarios, and none work in my favor, which only adds to my anxiety.
Not the way I want to start my day.
On top of that, I’m already having buyer’s remorse about agreeing to let Ella be my beard. God, I hate that term. It feels unfair to her, even if it was her idea. I gave in to get my mom off my back, and at the time, it seemed like the perfect solution.
Now, I’m not so sure.
Unable to sit still any longer, I drag myself out of bed and rush through a shower. It’s only eleven, but I can’t handle waiting around. I get dressed and slip out of the house without so much as a good morning to anyone.
