Chapter 19
Chapter nineteen
Cullen
Breakfast was delicious, but I could faceplant in this leftover syrup and not even care. Between the pain meds and another rough night of sleep, exhaustion is pulling at every muscle in my body.
Across the table, Dad smiles at Hudson. “So how are things going with therapy?”
Hud perks up. “Good, actually. Maria says I’m making progress.”
Dad smiles. “It’s obvious. That makes me very happy for you, Hudson.”
Hudson grins. “Thanks. I still have some bad days, but they don’t control everything anymore. The coping mechanisms Maria taught me feel second nature now, so I’m more capable of controlling my anxiety and thoughts.”
“You’ve worked hard for that progress,” Dad praises. “You should be proud of yourself.”
Hud shrugs, but his small smile tells how much that means to him.
“Yeah, well. Maria doesn’t let me get away with much.”
“Good therapists rarely do.”
Dad’s gaze shifts to me.
Shit.
Hud turns his head, his eyes on my profile.
Double shit.
“What?” I ask, clipped.
Hud studies me for a second. “You’ve been exhausted lately.”
“I’m fine.”
I’m not.
Dad arches an eyebrow. “You took an unprompted field trip to a potential threat’s house, which resulted in a severe panic attack.”
My molars grind. “Yes. And I’ve already served time for that mistake.”
I know exactly where this is going.
“Yes, you have, but son—”
“Dad,” I growl, cutting him off.
“No, hear me out.” His voice stays calm. “Recovery isn’t just about surviving what happened. It’s about dealing with it.”
A lump forms in my throat. “There’s nothing to deal with.”
Hud grabs my hand and squeezes. “Babe, we’re just worried about you.”
“I said I was fine.”
“Babe—”
“For fuck’s sake. I’m fine!”
My hands smack against the tabletop hard enough to rattle the plates, and half the restaurant turns to stare.
Hud’s mouth snaps shut, and the pink creeping into his cheeks punches a hole straight through my anger.
Fuck.
I didn’t mean to snap at him.
I reach for his hand just as Dad’s voice cuts through the silence.
“Outside. Now.” He throws a few bills onto the table and slides from the booth.
“Dad—”
“Now.”
I stand and offer my hand to Hudson. “Hud, baby. I’m sorry.”
He gives me a tight smile and takes it, but lets go as soon as we’re clear of the booth.
My stomach drops.
Hud follows Dad toward the parking lot while I trail behind them, already bracing for the lecture I know is coming.
As soon as Dad stops at his car, he’s rounding on me. “Let’s get a few things straight. I don’t have any experience with a same-sex relationship, but what I do know is that you don't disrespect your partner like that. Man or woman.”
“Dad, I—”
“I’m not finished.”
I do the smart thing and shut my trap. Hud lays his hand on the small of my back, the gesture comforting.
“Hudson has been through enough without you losing your temper. You’re slipping, Cullen. Your anger is getting the best of you, and your mom and I are getting close to forcing you to get help.
He pinches his fingers together. “That close.”
My jaw tightens. I didn’t mean to snap at Hud. It just came out wrong. I know what he’s been through—I don’t need a speech about it.
“I already apologized,” I tell him. “Hud knows I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Wrong answer, son. Whether he knows you meant it or not doesn’t change what happened.”
Hud shifts slightly beside me. “Dr. Anderson, it’s okay—”
“No, it isn’t,” Dad cuts in, but his voice stays steady. “And I know Nora and Eric raised you better than this, too. Both of you know what respect looks like in a relationship.”
He places a hand on my shoulder, then briefly on Hud’s, his expression softening. “What you two have is solid. Don’t let moments like that become a pattern. They add up.”
“Yes, sir,” Hud and I say together.
“Okay. I need to get going, but Cullen? We will discuss therapy more at home.”
I give him a stiff nod.
Dad smiles then glances down at my legs. “Weren’t you wearing pajama pants when I dropped you off this morning?”
My cheeks heat and Hudson snickers.
Dad looks between us before the tips of his ears turn red. “Ah. Never mind.” He clears his throat and then gives me a hug. “I’ll see you later. Bye, Hudson.” Then he gets into his car and drives off.
“Wasn’t expecting relationship advice from your dad today,” Hud jokes. Then he walks the couple of spaces over to where he’s parked and gets in, cranking up the Bronco and waving for me to hurry.
Once I’m in and buckled, he pulls out of the parking lot towards his house.
The ride is quiet, classic rock filling the space between us. Hud’s thumb keeps tracing slow circles over my hand like nothing is wrong.
My teeth grind just thinking about Dad’s lecture. I knew snapping at Hud was wrong—it’s why I apologized immediately.
Dad thinks that talking to a therapist will fix everything, that I’ll magically sleep better and see the world with sunshine and flowers. That my anger will dissipate.
No offense to Dad and his credentials, but he didn’t watch the guy he loves more than anything try to kill himself.
So maybe, just maybe, I’m justified in my anger.
No amount of talking to a stranger will change that.
Besides. I’m fine.
Hud squeezes my hand. “Hey,” he says softly. “You’re miles away.”
I let out a breath and rub my eyes. “Yeah, sorry.”
But I’m not really thinking about the lecture anymore. I’m thinking about all the shit that continues to pile up—the car accident, Hud still healing, how uncertain the future is…
Hud flicks on his blinker and pulls into a drugstore parking lot without saying anything, idling the Bronco.
“Okay,” he says gently. “We’re not doing heavy conversations while I’m driving. What’s going on?”
My stomach tightens.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately, and I think it’s best.”
“Think what’s best?” There is a sharp edge to Huds’ voice.
“That maybe…” I run a hand through my hair. “Maybe I should defer this semester. Possibly the year.”
Hud’s eyes search mine, his face passive.
“No.”
The word is strong and final.
“Baby, you’re highly mistaken if you think I’m going to go to college without you.”
Hud scoffs and stares out the windshield. “You are not going to further upend your life because of me.”
My heart thumps wildly in my chest. I tug his hand, a silent plea to look at me. His gaze meets mine, his face set in a scowl.
“Hud, do you think I could walk into that dorm room every day knowing you’re not there and be happy? Or possibly play soccer and not have you on the team?”
I scoff and shake my head. “You have no idea what it’s like to almost lose the person you love.” My voice breaks, tears blurring my vision. “So forgive me for not wanting to walk away from you and live a life we are supposed to share together.”
His hand comes up to my face, his thumb gently wiping the moisture away.
His eyes have softened, and so has his voice.
“Cull, I love you. Which is why I can’t let you throw this away.
I’ll make it to Ashbridge, or I won’t, but we will still be together.
Our future doesn’t hinge on us both being there. ”
My chest feels like it’s caving in, and my voice is shredded when I finally speak. “I can’t do it without you.”
I’m terrified to do it without him.
Hud smiles softly, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “Yes, you can. We’ll figure it all out.”
My hands scrub down my face, embarrassed by how clingy I just sounded. I blow out a breath and calm myself.
“I think we are both a little exhausted today. Why don’t we go back to my house and take a nap? I’m sure that broken pinky of yours is giving you hell.” He gives me a shifty side-eye before he busts out in a booming laugh.
“You’re such a little shit.” I laugh along with him, the rest of the heaviness dissipating.
“You daren’t say such things!” Hudson gasps, mock horror on his face.
“Okay, Shakespeare, tone it down,” I tease, rolling my eyes.
Hud chuckles and maneuvers the Bronco back onto the highway.
“Ugh, I just thought about something.”
“And that is…?”
“They’ll assign me a new roommate,” I groan. “I can’t have phone sex with you if some weirdo is in there listening.”
Hudson huffs a small laugh. “Maybe you can see if Archer will room with you? There is still time to make those changes.”
I shrug. “It’s not the worst idea, and at least he’d be someone I know.”
“Yeah, and with him and Theo not—” He’s interrupted by his phone ringing.
“It’s Mom,” he says, answering on his touch screen.
“Hey Mom, what’s up?”
Her sobs fill the cab, my arm hair standing on end.
“Mom? What’s wrong?” Hud is white-knuckling the steering wheel, and I can see his pulse beating in his neck.
“Hudson, there’s been an accident.”
His hands tighten around the steering wheel.
“What happened?” His question is raw, scraped from his throat.
Mrs. Nora inhales sharply, then says something that shatters the little bit of peace we’ve managed to find.
“It’s Ella.”