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“Hardin, I love your mum and I intend to marry her.”
I spit my coffee back into my cup. “Marry her? Are you mad?”
He raises a brow. “And why would my intention to marry her be mad?”
“I don’t know . . . she’s already been married . . . and you’re our neighbor . . . her neighbor.”
“I can take care of her the way she should have been taken care of her entire life. If you don’t approve, I’m sorry, but I thought I’d let you know that when the time is right, I’ll be asking her to spend her life with me, officially.”
I don’t know what to say to this man, the man who has lived next door to me my entire life, the man who I’ve never seen angry, not even once. He loves her, I can tell, but this is too weird for me to comprehend right now.
“Okay then . . .”
“Okay then,” he echoes back and then looks behind me.
My mum walks into the kitchen with her robe wrapped tight around her and her hair in a mess on her head. “What are you doing up, Hardin? Are you going back home?” she asks.
“No, I couldn’t sleep. And this is home,” I tell her and take another drink of coffee. This is my home.
“Hmm . . .” she sleepily replies.
Chapter eighty-six
TESSA
I’m getting sucked back in, back under. The memories that I shared with Hardin tug at my feet, attempting to pull me under the water.
I roll the windows down in an attempt to get some air. Zed is so sweet to me, he’s understanding and kind. He’s dealt with a lot for me and I’ve always brushed him aside. If I could just stop being foolish, I could try with him. I can’t even imagine being in a relationship right now, or really anytime soon. But maybe with time I could. I don’t want Zed to break up with Rebecca because of me if I can’t give him an answer, or even a hint of an answer.
As I drive back to Landon’s house, I’m more confused than ever.
If I could just talk to Hardin, just see him once more, I could get closure. If I could hear him say that he doesn’t care, if he would be cruel to me just one last time, I could give Zed the chance, give myself the chance.
Before I can stop myself, I grab my phone and press the button that I’ve been avoiding since day four. If he ignores me, I can move on. We are officially over if he doesn’t answer my call. If he tells me that he’s sorry and that we can work on it . . . no. I put the phone back on the seat. I’ve come too far to call him again, to break down again.
But I need to know.
The line goes straight to voicemail. “Hardin . . .” The words leave my lips at a frantic rate. “Hardin . . . it’s Tessa. I . . . well, I need to talk to you. I’m in my car and I’m so confused . . .” I begin to cry. “Why haven’t you even tried to contact me? You just let me leave, and here I am pathetically calling you and crying into your voicemail. I need to know what happened to us. Why was this time different—why didn’t we fight it out? Why didn’t you fight for me? I deserve to be happy, Hardin,” I sob and hang the phone up.
Why did I just do that? Why did I break down and call him? I’m such an idiot—he’s probably going to listen to it and laugh. He’ll probably let whatever girl he’s hooking up with listen to the message, and they’ll laugh and laugh at my expense. I pull into a deserted parking lot to gather my thoughts before getting into another accident.
I stare at the phone and breathe in and out in order to stop crying. Twenty minutes go by and he still hasn’t returned my call, or even texted me.
Why am I sitting in a parking lot at ten at night crying and calling him? I’ve fought myself for the last nine days to get myself to be strong, yet here I am falling apart, again. I can’t let this happen. I pull out of the parking lot and drive back to Zed’s apartment. Hardin is obviously too busy to be bothered with me, and Zed is here, honest and always here for me. I park next to his truck and take a deep breath. I have to think of myself first and what I want.
As I race up the stairs to Zed’s door, I’m at peace with myself.
I bang on the door, shifting back and forth waiting for it to open. What if I’m too late and he doesn’t answer the door? I’ll get what I deserve, I suppose. I should’ve known better than to kiss him in the middle of all of this.
When the door opens I nearly stop breathing. Zed is wearing only black gym shorts, his inked chest exposed.
“Tessa?” He gapes, clearly surprised.
“I . . . I don’t know what I can give you, but I want to try,” I tell him.
He runs his hand over his black hair and takes a deep breath. He’s going to reject me, I know it.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come . . .” I can’t handle any more rejection.
I turn toward the stairs and take two at a time before a hand hooks my arm and Zed turns me around to face him.
He doesn’t say anything at all; he just takes my hand in his and leads me back up the stairs and inside his apartment.
Zed is calm, so quiet and understanding as we sit on his couch, him on one side and me on the other. He’s completely different from what I’m used to with Hardin. When I don’t want to talk, he doesn’t push me to talk. When I can’t think of an explanation for my actions, he doesn’t call me out. And when I tell him that I’m not comfortable sleeping in his bed with him, he brings me the softest blanket and a somewhat clean pillow and lays them on his couch.
THE NEXT MORNING when I wake up, my neck is killing me. Zed’s old couch isn’t the most comfortable, but I slept well, considering.