Chapter 29
Twenty-Nine
Hudson
“Love, why don’t you pack a few things and stay with Cullen a couple of days, if that’s fine with y’all?” Mom asks Mrs. Eliza.
“Of course it’s alright. Hudson, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”
Mom stands and pulls me into her arms. I’m numb. My dad went from being supportive to gutting me with a blunt knife in a few sentences. What he really thinks about me, about my illness, is out in the open now. I’m a problem. A burden to bear.
Like I’ve always feared.
What if he’s right? What if Cullen gets tired of the emotional whiplash? It’s not fair to him to babysit me when I can’t function. We’re only eighteen. He deserves to live, not just manage me.
“I’ll talk to him. He’s scared, love.” She cups my face like I’m still her little boy.
“It has nothing to do with you and Cullen being together, alright? He just wants to protect you from the hard things in life, but he forgets you can’t grow without growing pains.
” She smiles. “I’m happy for you two. I see the way Cullen looks at you. It reminds me of your dad.”
The sentiment should warm something in me, but it doesn’t. I’m already folding in on myself. Everything Dad said is playing on a loop in my head, louder than anything else.
She kisses my cheek and goes to find him to talk, but it won’t matter. The damage is done. My brain has latched onto his words like a leech, draining me dry.
“Hudson, why don’t you grab a few things and come on over?” Mrs. Eliza rubs a soothing circle on my back, snapping me back to the present.
I nod and smile, but it’s tight—forced.
I don’t acknowledge Cullen as I leave the room, afraid if I do, something ugly might come out. Something I don’t mean.
My brain agrees with my dad, but my heart tells me I’d be a fool to let Cullen go.
My heart is selfish.
But I may need to break my own heart just to give Cull a better future.
“Baby?”
I turn. Cullen leans against my bedroom door frame, arms crossed over his chest, looking… perfect. My heart thumps hard.
I don’t want to lose him, but I want him to have so much more.
“You okay?” he asks, walking over to wrap his arms around me. I press my forehead to his shoulder and breathe him in. Today he smells like evergreen and safety.
“No.” No point in lying. He knows how close I am to my dad, and how deep that blade cut.
Muffled yelling echoes from down the hall. My parents argue, but I’ve never heard them raise their voices like this.
Another thing to feel guilty about. I caused this.
A door slams, stomping vibrating down the hallway. My dad appears in the doorway, glancing at Cullen and me. His face twists, jaw tensing as he turns and storms down the stairs. The front door slams with enough force to shake the frame.
“I have faith in your dad.” Cull holds me tighter, the pressure both comforting and suffocating.
“He’s right, you know.”
Cullen stiffens, then pulls back to meet my eyes. “Your dad is wrong about a hell of a lot.”
Too late. The words already carved themselves into my bones.
“The last time I had a major panic attack, he carried me inside like a baby. My legs gave out from crying and not being able to breathe. I couldn’t even stand. That wasn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last. Is that really something you want to take on?”
“Yes,” he growls. It’s not sexy, just fierce. Protective.
“You say that, but I’m difficult, Cull. You’ve seen what it looks like when the dark wins. You’ll exhaust yourself trying to fix me, and I’ll exhaust myself hiding it. That’s not how a relationship should be. We should just—”
“Don’t you fucking dare finish that sentence.” He storms to my closet and snatches my duffel off the ground, throwing clothes in without looking.
“What are you doing?” I ask, drained.
“Packing your shit so you can come stay with me.”
“Cull,” I sigh. I’ve already resigned myself to ending this, to protect him from me.
He doesn’t respond. Just keeps packing like a man on a mission.
“Cullen, would you stop?”
“You stop, Hudson!” he shouts, flinging the duffel on the bed, clothes tumbling out.
“Stop trying to be some fucked-up version of a martyr. You don’t get to decide what I am or am not willing to do for you. You don’t get to tell me what’s best for us while ignoring what I want. Don’t you dare diminish how much I love you by pretending I’d be better off without you.”
I just stare. Torn between running away and collapsing into his arms.
Cullen steps in close and cups my neck, all fury gone.
“I love you. I told you, and I’ll keep telling you.
I will give you every ounce of my energy, every day, if it makes you feel one fraction better.
You are mine.” His eyes penetrate my soul, soft but determined.
“You can try to scare me away, but I’m not going anywhere. Do you hear me?”
My chest caves under the weight of everything.
I begin to cry.
Again.
I’m seriously in danger of losing my man card at this point.
He pulls me into his chest and strokes the back of my head. I grip his waist, never wanting to let go. “I’m sorry. I love you so damn much. I just… I feel like I’m going to hold you back.”
“Baby,” he murmurs, “you can’t hold me back when you are my finish line. If we have to walk through hell to get there, I’ll do it with a smile.”
Fuck, I love him. I don’t know what I did to deserve him, but I’ll find out and do it again and again until I get him in every lifetime.
“Let’s get your stuff and get out of here.”
I nod and check the bag. He did a decent job, though it looks like he was packing for me to move out permanently.
“I just need my toiletries, underwear, and—”
He holds up my meds before I can finish, like he read my mind. I take them, shove them in the side pocket of the bag, and exhale the last of my anxiety.
With everything packed, we head out. I lean my head against the cool glass of the passenger side window of Cullen’s truck, watching the road blur by. I didn’t feel like driving, so I’ll have to get my car later.
For now, I’ll let him carry some of the weight.
I’ve never trusted anyone to do that before.