Page 174
Story: Hard to Resist
A tear rolls down her cheek, but she says nothing.
Minutes pass, questionable chatter from the patrons around us filling the silence, and my heart cracks in half.
I give her hands a final squeeze and then push to my feet, brushing the dirt off my knees.
I drag my attention to Garrett and Nick.
“Sorry for interrupting.”
I leave with a short nod, turning on my heel and walking away. There’s a burning embarrassment in my chest at ripping my heart out and leaving it on the ground. I’d thought she might say something, but I’d been prepared for her to say nothing.
I fucked up.
I broke her trust.
But I’m not giving up.
I will keep showing up until I earn her trust back.
I’m not afraid to grovel and to put in the work.
I’ll play the long game.
Because this is no longer about making her mine. This is about her choosing me.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
VERITY
Ignaw on my thumb, staring dazedly out the window and watching the rain pound against the glass. It is seventy degrees this morning, but Mother Nature doesn’t seem to care. I wasn’t expecting the downpour.
I hadn’t expected to see Cullen yesterday either.
And I certainly didn’t expect to see him drop to his knees.
My stomach flips at the memory.
I’d headed to Common Catch to meet with Garrett and Nick to celebrate our upcoming partnership. I’d gone into their offices beforehand to sign the work-for-hire contract and chat about their deadlines for each aspect of the project. They’d even agreed to give me thirty-five percent of my pay up front, with the remaining sixty-five split upon the completion of each of the three brand projects. That amount will have me more than set up for the next few months, which is nuts to think about. I’ll be making more with the Harver Group than bi-weekly with Delute—minus the fact that the Harver contract is for a set term and Delute had been a steady income with health insurance.
I am excited about this new journey, about what it could mean for me. Yes, it might not totally work in the long run, and I might end up needing to go back to a corporate job if I can’t get consistent pay—but I can’t live in thatmightmindset. Right now, it seems like this could work. I will have the freedom to takeon whatever client I desire, not one that has been preapproved and vetted by Celine, and not one that has been forced on me with no choice.
But while it seems like my work life might be sorted, my love life is still in shambles.
I’d been so tempted to run after Cullen, to call his name and grab his hand. Watching his back as he walked away had been like hammering nails into my heart. But I needed the time to think about what he’d said and not just leap back into his arms without a second thought. They were sober words, not drunken declarations left over voicemail, and I needed to process it sincerely.
The issue is, the more I think, the more I realize that I don’t need the time.
At this point, it feels like I am just delaying the inevitable. I want to be with Cullen. Yes, I am still hurt that he lied about still being married to Celine, that he never made the distinction between separated and divorced, but I also understand why he didn’t tell me.
At the end of the day, I know in my heart of hearts that if he’d told me on the night that we met that he had an ex-wife that he’d been separated from for ten years and hated but was still married to because she refused to sign divorce papers…I would’ve walked in the opposite direction. Even just imagining that scenario in my mind gives me a headache from how messy it sounds.
So, what do I do now?
Do I just take him back? Is it that easy?
“Hey, I have a latte for you.”
The smiling barista places a tall ceramic mug next to my laptop, a hexagon pattern dusted onto the foam. Her name is Aisling, and we’ve become quite familiar these last couple ofweeks. Actually, I’m pretty sure everyone who works at this coffee shop knows me by now.
Minutes pass, questionable chatter from the patrons around us filling the silence, and my heart cracks in half.
I give her hands a final squeeze and then push to my feet, brushing the dirt off my knees.
I drag my attention to Garrett and Nick.
“Sorry for interrupting.”
I leave with a short nod, turning on my heel and walking away. There’s a burning embarrassment in my chest at ripping my heart out and leaving it on the ground. I’d thought she might say something, but I’d been prepared for her to say nothing.
I fucked up.
I broke her trust.
But I’m not giving up.
I will keep showing up until I earn her trust back.
I’m not afraid to grovel and to put in the work.
I’ll play the long game.
Because this is no longer about making her mine. This is about her choosing me.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
VERITY
Ignaw on my thumb, staring dazedly out the window and watching the rain pound against the glass. It is seventy degrees this morning, but Mother Nature doesn’t seem to care. I wasn’t expecting the downpour.
I hadn’t expected to see Cullen yesterday either.
And I certainly didn’t expect to see him drop to his knees.
My stomach flips at the memory.
I’d headed to Common Catch to meet with Garrett and Nick to celebrate our upcoming partnership. I’d gone into their offices beforehand to sign the work-for-hire contract and chat about their deadlines for each aspect of the project. They’d even agreed to give me thirty-five percent of my pay up front, with the remaining sixty-five split upon the completion of each of the three brand projects. That amount will have me more than set up for the next few months, which is nuts to think about. I’ll be making more with the Harver Group than bi-weekly with Delute—minus the fact that the Harver contract is for a set term and Delute had been a steady income with health insurance.
I am excited about this new journey, about what it could mean for me. Yes, it might not totally work in the long run, and I might end up needing to go back to a corporate job if I can’t get consistent pay—but I can’t live in thatmightmindset. Right now, it seems like this could work. I will have the freedom to takeon whatever client I desire, not one that has been preapproved and vetted by Celine, and not one that has been forced on me with no choice.
But while it seems like my work life might be sorted, my love life is still in shambles.
I’d been so tempted to run after Cullen, to call his name and grab his hand. Watching his back as he walked away had been like hammering nails into my heart. But I needed the time to think about what he’d said and not just leap back into his arms without a second thought. They were sober words, not drunken declarations left over voicemail, and I needed to process it sincerely.
The issue is, the more I think, the more I realize that I don’t need the time.
At this point, it feels like I am just delaying the inevitable. I want to be with Cullen. Yes, I am still hurt that he lied about still being married to Celine, that he never made the distinction between separated and divorced, but I also understand why he didn’t tell me.
At the end of the day, I know in my heart of hearts that if he’d told me on the night that we met that he had an ex-wife that he’d been separated from for ten years and hated but was still married to because she refused to sign divorce papers…I would’ve walked in the opposite direction. Even just imagining that scenario in my mind gives me a headache from how messy it sounds.
So, what do I do now?
Do I just take him back? Is it that easy?
“Hey, I have a latte for you.”
The smiling barista places a tall ceramic mug next to my laptop, a hexagon pattern dusted onto the foam. Her name is Aisling, and we’ve become quite familiar these last couple ofweeks. Actually, I’m pretty sure everyone who works at this coffee shop knows me by now.
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