I fucked up.
I fucked up the day after the party when I didn’t tell him what happened. I had so many chances, but I kept my mouth shut. And once we confessed our feelings, I got stuck in that happy little bubble and forgot all about it.
Now it’s catching up to me. And I deserve it.
Selfish.
Always hurting the people I love.
Broken.
Cullen deserves so much more.
My thoughts have felt like a battering ram since I confessed yesterday. When Cull started to walk away, I thought it was the beginning of the end. The moment he came back and wrapped his arms around me, the tightness in my chest eased, his arms bringing the safety I’ve come to crave from him.
When we finally went back to our classes, I thought maybe Cull was going to be okay, but he remained slightly detached the rest of the day. Even through lunch, while he was joking around with Matt and the guys, he had a tightness around his eyes, his laugh a little forced.
No one seemed to notice, but I did.
I know I hurt him. He has every right to feel how he does.
Because I’m a fuck up.
I lay in bed last night clutching my phone, wanting to call him. He had said he needed space, so I tried to respect that. He did send his usual goodnight text, though. That brought a semblance of peace, seeingI love youin our text thread, butI still tossed and turned until the sunlight started creeping in through my blinds.
It would’ve been so easy to sleep the day away, too drained to even roll over, but I forced myself up. I didn’t let the darkness win.
Dr. Anderson would be proud.Eyeroll.
It doesn’t matter that it feels like every step I take is through wet concrete. That every movement is like razor blades scraping beneath my skin. I’m constantly overstimulated, but I still smile so no one knows they’re stressing me out just by being near me.
No one sees how hard my heart beats with the constant fear that something bad is about to happen.
They see I’m up, smiling, functioning. So Hudson must be fine.
If they only knew.
But I don’t want them to know.
What’s the point? Dr. Anderson knows, and all he ever does is tweak my meds and says, “Let’s see if that helps.” I gave up telling him the truth. I just claim things are fine now, because the adjustments help for a while, then it’s back to square one.
I’m just… tired.
“Mom said it’s your turn to do the dishes.”
I flinch at the sound of Hadley’s voice. It’s the first time she’s spoken to me since the lake last week. I’ve been sitting at the breakfast table, pushing eggs around my plate, lost in a spiral of self-pity. The last thing I expected was for her to acknowledge me.
“I’ll do them later.” I don’t have the energy to blink, let alone deal with dishes.
“You’re so lazy, Hudson. There are literally five dishes in the sink.”
Lazy.
I wish that were it. I wish this were a choice.
“It’s the first time you’ve spoken to me since the lake, and it’s to rag on me? Thanks, Hads.” My voice is as dead as I feel.
If I could just hear Cull’s voice, I know it’d be the dopamine hit I need to get through the day. Maybe I’ll cave and call him in a few. I know we need to have a talk anyway.
