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I grab my books, piling them into an empty box, and, instinctively, Hardin’s copy of Wuthering Heights; he won’t miss it, and, honestly, I’m owed it, after what he’s taken from me.
My throat is sore, so I go into the kitchen and grab a glass of water. I sit down at the table and allow myself a few minutes to pretend that none of this has happened. To pretend that instead of my having to face the future days alone, Hardin will be home from class shortly, and will smile at me and tell me he loves me, that he missed me all day. That he will lift me onto the counter and kiss me with longing and love—
The clicking of the door startles me out of my pathetic daydream. I jump to my feet as Hardin walks through the door. He doesn’t see me, since he’s looking over his shoulder.
At a brunette in a black sweater dress.
“So this is it . . .” he begins, and then stops when he notices my bags on the ground.
I’m frozen as his eyes travel around the apartment and then over to the kitchen, where they widen in shock at seeing me.
“Tess?” he says, as if he’s not sure that I actually exist.
Chapter four
TESSA
I look like hell. I’m in baggy jeans and a sweatshirt, yesterday’s smeared makeup, and tangled hair. I look at the girl standing behind him. Her curly brown hair is silky and cascades in loose waves down her back. Her makeup is light, and perfect, but then, she’s one of those women who doesn’t need it to begin with. Of course she is.
This is humiliating and I wish I could sink into the floor, disappearing out of the beautiful girl’s sight.
When I reach down to pick one of my bags up off the floor, Hardin seems to remember the girl is there and turns around to face her.
“Tessa, what are you doing here?” he asks. As I wipe at the makeup around my eyes, he asks his new girl, “Can you give us a minute?”
She looks at me, then nods and goes back into the building hallway.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” he says and walks into the kitchen. He removes his jacket, which makes his plain white T-shirt ride up and reveal the tanned skin of his torso. The ink there, the twisted, angry branches of the dead tree on his stomach, taunt me. Calling out to be touched. I love that tattoo, it’s my favorite that he has. Only now I see the parallel between him and the tree. Both unfeeling. Both alone. At least the tree has hope to bloom again. Hardin does not.
“I . . . I was just leaving.” I manage to say. He looks so perfect, so beautiful. Such a beautiful disaster.
“Please just let me explain myself,” he begs, and I notice the dark circles under his eyes are even more prominent than mine.
“No.” I reach for my bags again, but he grabs them from me and drops them back onto the floor.
“Two minutes, that’s all I’m asking for, Tess.”
Two minutes is too long to be here with Hardin, but this is the closure I know I need in order to move on with my life. I sigh and sit down, trying to hold back any noise that would betray my neutral expression. Hardin is clearly surprised, but quickly takes the seat across from me.
“You sure moved on fast,” I say quietly, lifting my chin toward the door.
“What?” Hardin says, then seems to remember the brunette. “She works with me; her husband is downstairs with their newborn daughter. They’re looking for a new place, so she wanted to see our . . . the layout.”
“You’re moving?” I ask.
“No, not if you’ll stay, but I don’t see the point in staying here without you. I’m just going over my options here.”
Something in me is slightly relieved, but then immediately a more defensive part of me notes that just because he isn’t sleeping with the brunette doesn’t mean he won’t be sleeping with someone else soon. I ignore the twinge of sorrow that comes along with Hardin talking about moving out, even though I won’t be here when he does.
“You think I would bring someone back here to our apartment? It’s only been two days—is that how you think of me?”
He has some nerve. “Yes! Of course it is—now!”
When I nod viciously at this, pain flashes across his face. But after a moment he just sighs in defeat. “Where did you stay last night? I went to my father’s and you weren’t there.”
“My mother’s.”
“Oh.” He looks down at his hands. “Did you guys work everything out?”
I stare directly into his eyes—I can’t believe he has the nerve to ask me about my family. “That’s no longer any of your business.”
He starts to reach out to me, but stops. “I miss you so much, Tessa.”
I lose my breath again, but remember how good he is at twisting things around. I turn away. “Sure you do.”
Despite the whirlwind of my emotions, I won’t allow myself to come undone any further in front of him.
“I do, Tessa. I know I fucked up big-time—but I love you. I need you.”
“Just stop, Hardin. Save yourself the time and energy. You aren’t fooling me, not anymore. You got what you wanted, so why not just stop?”
“Because I can’t.” He reaches for my hand, but I jerk away. “I love you. I need you to give me a chance to make this up to you. I need you, Tessa. I need you. You need me, too—”
“No, I don’t actually. I was fine before you came into my life.”
“Fine isn’t happy,” he says.
“Happy?” I scoff. “And what, am I happy now?” How dare he try to claim he makes me happy.