Chapter 20
Elena
L ife with Cullan is a dream come true.
We fall into a happy routine together. One where Cullan gets up early to get Rosie ready for her day, spends time with her, and kisses us both goodbye at the front door before heading off to work.
Cullan buys a second car so I can take Rosie out with me to run errands and do fun things like visit parks and toy shops.
She’s getting so much bigger, and as she outgrows her clothing, choosing new things for her is so much fun.
In the evenings, Cullan is almost always home before Rosie’s bedtime so we can all eat together, and he reads her a bedtime story.
Then the evenings are ours, and we enjoy the sunsets in the garden, read together, watch TV.
The latter often turns into me being scooped into his lap so we can kiss, and then inevitably have sex on the sofa or the rug.
He’s always careful that I come at least once—and usually again after he finishes.
Nothing satisfies him more than holding me tight after he’s come with his cock lodged deep inside me while he rubs my clit and speaks soft, dirty words in my ear. I feel like I’m in heaven.
The only blot on my life is my visits to my aunts to give them money, and inevitably being dragged into the confessional at church.
Now that I don’t have a boyfriend anymore, my aunts and my priest aren’t calling me as many horrible names or making as many dark predictions about the fate of my soul.
I keep my confessions simple without any mention of Cullan, contraceptives, and unmarried sex.
That’s my business, not theirs. After I find out who my mother is, I don’t know if I’ll ever go to confession again.
I hate the way it makes me feel so judged and dirty.
If I can put up with this for hopefully just a little longer, I’ll find out who my mother is, and I’ll never have to see these people again.
Five weeks go by. I’ve been a model young woman in my aunts’ eyes, though I’m practically living in sin with my boss.
I’m sleeping in his bed, kissing him good morning, and cuddling with him on the sofa at night.
He’s still paying me, which feels strange.
Cullan has hinted that he wants a relationship, but also that he doesn’t want to push me too fast.
What he does say a lot, very clearly, is that he wouldn’t mind, he’d be so happy, he’d be over the moon, if I fell pregnant. He’s always cupping and kissing my stomach—which makes me melt—and telling me how beautiful I look holding his daughter.
The man has baby fever. It’s kind of adorable.
I don’t realize how long it’s been since I’ve seen Justine until I notice that I have a text from her.
Justine: Hellooooo? Let go of your DILF long enough to text me back.
Elena: I’m so sorry!!! How are you?
Justine: Same as always but missing you! Can I see where you live? Is that allowed?
I hold my phone and think. I don’t see why it wouldn’t be, but I still feel like I have to ask permission because this is Cullan’s house.
Over dinner that night, I say to Cullan, “Can I have a friend over?”
He looks up from helping Rosie with her pasta. “Of course you can. You don’t even have to ask. Who’s coming over?”
“My friend Justine. She’s the one who took me out on my birthday, and she was looking out for me when you and I left together, just to make sure I was okay.”
“She’s a good friend.”
“She is. I like that Justine knows about us. She doesn’t judge me.”
“Who judges us?” he asks with a frown, and then answers his own question. “Leon and my ex have no right to have an opinion about our relationship, and neither does anyone else.”
I was actually thinking about my aunts, but I’m distracted by what he just said. “Relationship?”
Cullan’s stormy expression clears, and he smiles. “I like the word relationship for us, don’t you?”
“I like it a lot.” I hesitate and then ask, “Does that make you my boyfriend?”
I marvel at how I’m able to ask this question without breaking into a sweat. It’s always been so hard for me to find my voice and ask for what I want when asking always got me scolded.
“Boyfriend,” Cullan says thoughtfully as he turns the word over in his mind. He leans forward and kisses me. “I like the sound of that. It will do for now.” His kiss is full of promise.
I watch him take Rosie out of her high chair and carry her upstairs. The implication being that he wants to call me something else in the future, something like…wife?
With an excited feeling fizzing in my belly, I text Justine back with my address and what time to arrive tomorrow.
I spend the afternoon baking little sweet and savory treats for me and Justine. Cullan comes in as I’m finishing up some butterfly cupcakes. “I just adore your kitchen. You have everything, and there’s so much counter space.”
Cullan puts his arms around my waist and kisses my throat. “And I adore you. I hope you have fun tonight.”
I turn my head so he can kiss my cheek. “Thank you. I feel so excited. I’ve never had a friend over before. Well, I did at my apartment, but it never felt like a proper home, and I couldn’t bake in that awful oven that burned everything.”
He looks confused. “You’ve never had a friend over? What kind of people are your aunts?”
That is a big can of worms I don’t want to open. I suppose I’ll have to talk about them eventually, but I hate the thought of speaking their names in this beautiful house around my lovely boyfriend, as though even the thought of them will taint everything.
Cullan’s phone chimes, and the front doorbell rings, saving me from answering. He shows me the image from the app on his phone. “Is this Justine?”
“That’s her.” I hurry to answer the door.
Justine greets me with a huge smile and hugs me tightly with one arm. In her other hand is a bottle of vodka.
I can feel Cullan’s presence in the hall behind me, and I introduce them. “Justine, this is Cullan Grant. Cullan, this is Justine Joyce.”
He greets her warmly, smiling and shaking her hand. “Lovely to meet you, Justine.”
She smiles up at him like she’s never seen a man half as tall or half as handsome in all her life. “Hello, Mr. Grant.”
Cullan reaches for the vodka bottle. “Would you like me to put this in the freezer for you?”
She passes it over to him, and her gaze lands on his tattooed forearms. “That would be great. Thank you so much, Mr. Grant. ”
He gives her a warm smile. “No problem, and Cullan is fine.”
As he turns toward the kitchen, Justine mouths at me, Tattoos? and mimes fanning her face.
I have to stifle a laugh and lead her toward the living room. “I’ve put out some snacks for us in here.”
We hear a smash and the sound of glass breaking from the kitchen. When we hurry to the door to see what happened, Cullan is standing by the open freezer door with the broken bottle of vodka at his feet.
“I’m so sorry, Justine. The bottle slipped out of my hand. I’ll pay you for it, of course. I wish I could offer you something else, but I don’t keep alcohol in the house. No, it’s okay. Keep away from this broken glass. I’ll clean it up.”
Justine looks disappointed that we can’t have a drink, but I don’t mind. Ten minutes later we have glasses of sparkling water, and I’ve spread out all the treats I’ve baked on the coffee table. There are music videos on the TV, and Cullan has disappeared upstairs.
“Elena, this is heaven,” Justine enthuses as she finishes a bite of a pastry puff. “Your cooking, this living room, that man upstairs. I’m so happy for you.”
I can tell from her smile that she means what she says, and it brings tears to my eyes. “Thank you for being happy for me.”
“What are friends for? But don’t get me wrong, I am also insanely envious,” she tells me with a wicked smile and reaches for another pastry puff. “Don’t worry, I’m motivated by envy. I’ll work twice as hard to get my own life in order. I’ve been putting things on my five-year plan.”
“Oh, yes?” I say in interest. “What’s your plan?”
She ticks things off on her fingers. “Finish my degree, get my foot in the door of some amazing company, and work my way up to the top so I can afford my dream life. You know, a bougie city apartment and a lifestyle of exciting travel and fashion. I just love new things all the time or I’ll get bored.
” She looks at me. “And how about you, what’s your dream life? If this isn’t it already.”
“Oh, you’d be bored hearing me talk about my dreams,” I say with a laugh.
“No, I wouldn’t. I’ll be excited for you. Let’s plan our futures together.”
I think for a moment, gazing into my glass.
“I think my dream life is more about feelings rather than milestones. I want a home that I miss when I have to leave. I want to hurry up the front steps because I can’t wait to see the people I love.
I want to know that if I’m absent, they’re missing me.
I want there to be so much happiness that it’s loud , you know, the whole house in uproar.
Shouting, Don’t shout across the house! but everyone doing it anyway.
I want to hear about everyone’s days over a lovely meal before we turn off the lights and go to bed. ”
“That’s so much deeper than what I said. Can I have another go?”
I laugh and shake my head. “I love what you said. It’s perfect for you. ”
“And yours is perfect for you.” She smiles at me. “It’s this house you want, isn’t it? This man and this family?”
“I do,” I say wistfully, and then add, “but I don’t want you to think I want this house because it’s beautiful and luxurious, or that I want Cullan because he’s well off. I would be happy in a little cottage as long as I have people who love me.”
“You’re worried I think you’re a gold digger? Have you seen this gorgeous man of yours and how sweet he is to you? If you weren’t falling for him, I’d think there was something wrong with you. Are you two… What are you? Have you defined it?”
I smile and feel myself turn bright red. “He’s called himself my boyfriend.”