Page 223
Story: After We Fell (After 3)
What the fuck am I supposed to do all day while my mum has Tessa prancing around town? I could go find them, it wouldn’t be hard, but my mum would probably be upset, and after all, tomorrow is her wedding day. I promised Tess that I’d be on my best behavior this weekend, and even though I’ve already broken the promise, I don’t need to make it any worse.
Chapter one hundred and thirty-four
TESSA
Your hair looks so beautiful.” Trish reaches a newly manicured hand across the table to touch my head.
“Thank you. I’m getting used to it.” I smile, looking into the mirror directly behind our table. The woman at the spa was appalled that I had never dyed my hair before. After a few minutes of persuading, I agreed to darken it slightly, but only at the roots. The final color is a very light brown fading into my natural blond toward the ends. The difference is barely noticeable and looks much more natural than I expected. The color isn’t permanent; it’ll only last a month. I wasn’t ready for a longer-term change, but the more I look at myself in the mirror, the more I like what I see.
The woman did wonders on my eyebrows, too, plucking them into a perfect arch, and my nails and toes are painted a deep red. I declined Trish’s offer to get a Brazilian wax; as much as I’ve considered getting one, it would be awkward to do it with Hardin’s mother, and I’m fine with shaving for now. During the walk to the car, Trish teases me about my flimsy shoes, the same way her son does, and I hold back from making a dig at her daily tracksuit-wearing.
I stare out the window the entire drive, taking in every single home, building, store, and person on the street.
“This is the place,” Trish says minutes later as she pulls her car into a covered parking lot nestled between two small buildings. I follow her to the entrance of the smaller of the two.
I notice that there’s moss covering the entirety of the brick building, and the sight of it calls forth my inner Landon, as references to The Hobbit pass through my mind. Landon would think the exact same thing if he were here, and we’d share a laugh while Hardin griped about how terrible the movies are and how they destroyed J.R.R. Tolkien’s vision. Landon would argue back, as always, claiming that Hardin secretly loves the movies, and Hardin would flip him off. Selfishly, I imagine a place where Hardin, Landon, and I could live close to one another, a place where Landon and Dakota could live in Seattle, maybe in the same building as Hardin and me. A place where one of the few people who actually care about me won’t be moving across the country in a few weeks.
“It’s pretty warm today; do you want to eat outside?” Trish asks, gesturing to the metal tables lined along the terrace.
“That would be fine.” I smile, following her to a table at the end of the row.
The waitress brings a pitcher of water to our table and places two glasses in front of us. Even the water looks better in England; the pitcher is filled with ice and perfectly shaped lemon circles.
Trish’s eyes search the sidewalks. “We have one more joining us . . . she should be here any—There she is!”
I turn to see a tall brunette bustling across the street, her hands waving in the air. Her floor-length skirt and high heels are making it difficult for her to move as quickly as she appears to be trying to do.
“Susan!” Trish’s face lights up at the woman’s clumsy entrance.
“Trish, darling, how are you?” Susan leans down to kiss both of Trish’s cheeks before turning to me and doing the same. I feel awkward as I smile uncomfortably, unsure whether or not I should return the unfamiliar greeting.
The woman’s eyes are a deep blue, making for the most beautiful contrast with her pale skin and dark hair. She pulls away before I can decide what to do. “You must be Theresa; I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you.” She smiles and surprises me by taking both of my hands into hers. She gently squeezes them and gives me a bright smile before pulling out the chair next to me and taking a seat.
“It’s nice to meet you.” I smile at her. I have no idea what to make of the woman. I know that I don’t like the way that hearing her name affected Hardin last night, but she seems so lovely, it’s confusing.
“Have you been waiting long?” she asks and turns around to hang her purse over the back of her chair.
“No, we just arrived. We had a full morning at the spa.” Trish flips her glossy brown hair over her shoulder.
“I can see that; the two of you smell like a bundle of flowers.” Susan laughs, filling her glass with water. Her accent is elegant and much thicker than Hardin’s and Trish’s.
Despite Hardin’s mood change last night, I’m in love with England, especially this village. I did my research before we arrived, but the photographs on the internet don’t do justice to the old-fashioned beauty of the area. I’m in awe as I gaze around, and wonder how something as simple as a cobblestone street lined with small cafés and shops could be so enchanting, so intriguing.
“Are you ready for your last fitting today?” Susan asks Trish. I continue to take in the surroundings, only vaguely listening to the women talk. My attention is drawn across the street to the quaint old buiding that houses the library. I can only imagine the collection of books it holds.
“Yes, I am, and if it doesn’t fit this time, I think I’ll have to sue the shop owner.” Trish laughs. I turn my gaze to them and force myself to keep from gawking at the architecture until I can get Hardin to take me sightseeing properly.
“Well, seeing as how I am the owner, I may have a problem with that.” Susan’s laugh is low and very charming. I have to keep reminding myself to be cautious of her.
Chapter one hundred and thirty-four
TESSA
Your hair looks so beautiful.” Trish reaches a newly manicured hand across the table to touch my head.
“Thank you. I’m getting used to it.” I smile, looking into the mirror directly behind our table. The woman at the spa was appalled that I had never dyed my hair before. After a few minutes of persuading, I agreed to darken it slightly, but only at the roots. The final color is a very light brown fading into my natural blond toward the ends. The difference is barely noticeable and looks much more natural than I expected. The color isn’t permanent; it’ll only last a month. I wasn’t ready for a longer-term change, but the more I look at myself in the mirror, the more I like what I see.
The woman did wonders on my eyebrows, too, plucking them into a perfect arch, and my nails and toes are painted a deep red. I declined Trish’s offer to get a Brazilian wax; as much as I’ve considered getting one, it would be awkward to do it with Hardin’s mother, and I’m fine with shaving for now. During the walk to the car, Trish teases me about my flimsy shoes, the same way her son does, and I hold back from making a dig at her daily tracksuit-wearing.
I stare out the window the entire drive, taking in every single home, building, store, and person on the street.
“This is the place,” Trish says minutes later as she pulls her car into a covered parking lot nestled between two small buildings. I follow her to the entrance of the smaller of the two.
I notice that there’s moss covering the entirety of the brick building, and the sight of it calls forth my inner Landon, as references to The Hobbit pass through my mind. Landon would think the exact same thing if he were here, and we’d share a laugh while Hardin griped about how terrible the movies are and how they destroyed J.R.R. Tolkien’s vision. Landon would argue back, as always, claiming that Hardin secretly loves the movies, and Hardin would flip him off. Selfishly, I imagine a place where Hardin, Landon, and I could live close to one another, a place where Landon and Dakota could live in Seattle, maybe in the same building as Hardin and me. A place where one of the few people who actually care about me won’t be moving across the country in a few weeks.
“It’s pretty warm today; do you want to eat outside?” Trish asks, gesturing to the metal tables lined along the terrace.
“That would be fine.” I smile, following her to a table at the end of the row.
The waitress brings a pitcher of water to our table and places two glasses in front of us. Even the water looks better in England; the pitcher is filled with ice and perfectly shaped lemon circles.
Trish’s eyes search the sidewalks. “We have one more joining us . . . she should be here any—There she is!”
I turn to see a tall brunette bustling across the street, her hands waving in the air. Her floor-length skirt and high heels are making it difficult for her to move as quickly as she appears to be trying to do.
“Susan!” Trish’s face lights up at the woman’s clumsy entrance.
“Trish, darling, how are you?” Susan leans down to kiss both of Trish’s cheeks before turning to me and doing the same. I feel awkward as I smile uncomfortably, unsure whether or not I should return the unfamiliar greeting.
The woman’s eyes are a deep blue, making for the most beautiful contrast with her pale skin and dark hair. She pulls away before I can decide what to do. “You must be Theresa; I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you.” She smiles and surprises me by taking both of my hands into hers. She gently squeezes them and gives me a bright smile before pulling out the chair next to me and taking a seat.
“It’s nice to meet you.” I smile at her. I have no idea what to make of the woman. I know that I don’t like the way that hearing her name affected Hardin last night, but she seems so lovely, it’s confusing.
“Have you been waiting long?” she asks and turns around to hang her purse over the back of her chair.
“No, we just arrived. We had a full morning at the spa.” Trish flips her glossy brown hair over her shoulder.
“I can see that; the two of you smell like a bundle of flowers.” Susan laughs, filling her glass with water. Her accent is elegant and much thicker than Hardin’s and Trish’s.
Despite Hardin’s mood change last night, I’m in love with England, especially this village. I did my research before we arrived, but the photographs on the internet don’t do justice to the old-fashioned beauty of the area. I’m in awe as I gaze around, and wonder how something as simple as a cobblestone street lined with small cafés and shops could be so enchanting, so intriguing.
“Are you ready for your last fitting today?” Susan asks Trish. I continue to take in the surroundings, only vaguely listening to the women talk. My attention is drawn across the street to the quaint old buiding that houses the library. I can only imagine the collection of books it holds.
“Yes, I am, and if it doesn’t fit this time, I think I’ll have to sue the shop owner.” Trish laughs. I turn my gaze to them and force myself to keep from gawking at the architecture until I can get Hardin to take me sightseeing properly.
“Well, seeing as how I am the owner, I may have a problem with that.” Susan’s laugh is low and very charming. I have to keep reminding myself to be cautious of her.
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