After We Collided (The After Series) (68 page)

BOOK: After We Collided (The After Series)
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“This is never going to be fixed, is it? This is how it will always be with us. Back and forth, up and down. You want me, but when I want you, all you do is push me away,” I say, willing myself not to cry.

“No . . . that’s not true.”

“It seems like it. What do you want from me? You want me to believe that you’re trying to prove that you can change for me, but then what?”

“What do you mean?”

“What’s after that?”

“I don’t know . . . we haven’t even gotten to that point yet. I want to continue to take you out and make you laugh instead of cry. I want you to love me again.” His eyes are glossing over, and he’s blinking rapidly.

“I do love you, always,” I assure him. “But it takes more than that, Hardin. Love doesn’t conquer all, the way the novels make you believe. There are always so many complications, and they’re overpowering the love that I have for you.”

“I know. Things are complicated, but they won’t always be. We can’t get along with one another for even a day, we yell and fight and give each other the silent treatment like five-year-olds, we do things out of spite and we say the wrong things. We sure as hell complicate things when they don’t need to be complicated, but we can figure it out somehow.”

I don’t know where we go from here. I’m glad that Hardin and I are having a somewhat civil discussion over everything that has happened, but I can’t ignore the fact that he wouldn’t support me going to Seattle.

I was going to tell him, but I’m afraid if I do he’ll say something to Christian again, and honestly, if Hardin and I are going
to continue trying to rebuild our relationship or whatever it is that we’re doing, it will only complicate it more.

If we’re truly able to make this work, it won’t matter if I’m here or two hours away. I was raised better than to let a man dictate my future, no matter how deep my love for him is.

I know exactly what will happen: he’ll lose his temper and storm out of here to find Christian, or Zed. Most likely Zed.

“If I pretend that the last twenty-four hours didn’t happen, will you promise me something?” I ask him.

“Anything,” he answers quickly.

“Don’t hurt him.”

“Zed?” he asks, anger coloring his voice.

“Yes, Zed,” I clarify.

“No, fuck no. I’m not promising that.”

“You said—” I begin.

“No, don’t even start that shit. He’s causing a bunch of shit between us, and I’m not going to sit back and allow it. Fuck no.” He paces back and forth.

“You don’t have any proof that he did what you say, Hardin, and fighting him isn’t going to solve anything. Just let me talk to him and—”

“No, Tessa! I already told you I don’t want you near him. I’m not going to tell you again,” he growls.

“You don’t get to tell me who I can talk to, Hardin.”

“What more proof do you need? Was him texting you from my phone not enough?”

“It wasn’t him! He wouldn’t do that.”

I don’t think he would, at least. Why would he?

I’m going to ask him about it either way, but I just don’t see him doing that to me.

“You are literally the most naïve person I’ve ever met, and it’s really fucking infuriating.”

“Can we please stop arguing?” I sit back down on the bed and hold my head in my hands.

“Agree to stay away from him.”

“Agree to not fight him, again,” I fire back.

“You’ll stay away if I don’t fight him?”

I don’t want to agree, but I don’t want Hardin to fight him either. This is all giving me a headache. “Yes.”

“When I say stay away from him, I mean no contact with him at all. No texts, no going by the science building, nothing,” he says.

“How did you know I went there?” I ask him. Did he see me?

My heart begins to race at the thought of Hardin seeing Zed and me in the greenhouse full of glowing flowers.

“Nate told me he saw you.”

“Oh.”

“Is there anything else you need to tell me while we’re on the topic of Zed? Because once this conversation is over, I don’t want to hear another word about him,” Hardin says.

“No.” I lie.

“You’re sure?” he asks again.

I don’t want to tell him, but I have to. I can’t expect honesty from him when I don’t give the same in return.

I close my eyes. “I kissed him,” I whisper, hoping that he didn’t hear me. But when he knocks the books off the desk, I know he did.

chapter
one hundred and thirteen
TESSA

I
open my eyes and look up at Hardin from the bed, but he isn’t looking at me. I feel like he’s barely registering that I exist. His eyes are focused on the books he pushed to the floor as he clenches his fists at his sides.

To bring him back to me from wherever he is, I say it again. “I kissed him, Hardin.”

Instead of looking at me, he taps his fists against his forehead in frustration, and my mind scrambles for an explanation. “I . . . you . . . why?” he mumbles.

“I thought you forgot about me . . . that you didn’t want me anymore, and he was there and . . .” My explanation isn’t fair, and I know it. But I don’t know what else to say. My feet won’t move toward him like my mind wants them to, and I remain on the bed.

“Stop saying that shit! Stop fucking saying he was there. I swear to God, if I hear that one more fucking time . . . !”

“Okay! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Hardin. I was so hurt and confused, he was saying all the things that I was so desperate for you to say and—”

“What was he saying?”

I don’t want to repeat anything that Zed said, not to Hardin. “Hardin . . .” I hold on to the pillow as an anchor.

“Now,”
he demands.

“He was just saying what would have happened if he had won the bet, if we had dated instead.”

“And what was that like?”

“What?”

“What was that like, hearing that bullshit? Is that what you want? You want to be with him instead of me?” His anger is boiling and I can tell he’s trying his hardest to keep the lid on it, but the steam is pressing and pressing.

“No, that’s not what I want.” I climb off the bed and take a cautious step toward him.

“Don’t. Don’t come near me.” His words pierce me, pinning me to where I am.

“What else did you do with him? Did you fuck him? Suck his dick?”

I’m so thankful that the house is empty and they can’t hear Hardin’s foul accusations.

“Oh my God! No! You know I didn’t. I don’t know what I was thinking when I kissed him. I was just being stupid, and I was at such a bad place with you abandoning me.”

“Abandoning you? You’re the one who fucking left me, and now I find out you were flaunting yourself around campus like a fucking whore!” he screams.

I want to cry but this isn’t about me, it’s about him and how hurt and angry he must be. “I didn’t mean it that way. Don’t call me names.” I squeeze the back of the desk chair.

Hardin turns his back to me, leaving me alone in my guilt. I can’t imagine how I would feel if he had done this during the worst time in my life. I hadn’t thought about how he’d feel when I did it, though; I had only assumed he was doing the same.

I don’t want to continue to push him. I know the way his temper gets too heated for him to control, and he’s been trying his best to do so.

“Do you want me to leave you alone for now?” I weakly ask.

“Yes.”

I didn’t want him to agree for me to leave him be, but I do what he asks and head out of the bedroom. He doesn’t turn around.

I’m unsure what to do with myself as I lean against the wall in the hallway. In a sick way I’d rather him be screaming at me, pinning me against the wall, and demanding me to tell him why I did what I did instead of staring out of the window and asking me to leave the room.

Maybe that’s what’s wrong with us: we both crave the drama of disagreements. I don’t believe that to be true; we have come a long way since the beginning of our relationship, even if we’ve fought more than we’ve had peace. Most of the novels that I’ve read led me to believe quarrels come and go in the blink of an eye, a simple apology will bandage any problem and everything will be worked out within minutes. The novels lie. Maybe that’s why I’m so enamored with
Wuthering Heights
and
Pride and Prejudice
; both are incredibly romantic in their own way, but they reveal the truth behind blind love and promises of forever.

This is the truth. This is a world where everyone makes mistakes, even the incredibly naïve girl who is usually the victim of a boy’s insensitivity and temper. No one is truly innocent in this world, no one. The people who believe themselves to be perfect are the worst ones of all.

A crash from within Hardin’s room frightens me, and I bring my hand to my mouth as I hear another and another. He’s destroying the room. I knew he would. I should stop him from breaking more and more of his father’s property, but honestly, I’m afraid to. I’m not afraid that he’ll hurt me physically—I’m afraid of the words he’ll say while he’s in this state. I can’t be afraid, though, I can handle it.

“Fuck!” he screams, and I step into the room. I’m half thankful that Ken took Karen and Landon out for dessert, but I almost wish someone was here to help me stop him.

In Hardin’s hand is a piece of wood, the leg of a chair, I realize when I see the chair lying on its side at Hardin’s feet. He tosses the dark wood away, and his eyes glow an angry green when he sees me.

“What part of
leave me the fuck alone
do you not get, Tessa?”

I take another breath and let his angry words bounce off of me. “I’m not leaving you alone.” My voice doesn’t come out as strong as I intended.

“If you know what’s good for you, you will,” he threatens.

I take a few steps forward to meet him and stop less than a foot away. He tries to back up, but he’s blocked by the wall.

“You won’t hurt me.” I call him out on his empty threat.

“You don’t know that, I’ve done it before.”

“Not purposely. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you did, I know that.”

“You don’t know anything!” he yells.

“Talk to me,” I calmly say. My heart is in my mouth as I watch him close his eyes and open them again.

“I don’t have anything to say to you, I don’t want you.” His voice is labored.

“Yes, you do.”

“No, Tessa, I don’t. I don’t want shit to do with you. He can have you.”

“I don’t want him.” I try not to let his harsh words penetrate me.

“You obviously do.”

“No, I only want you.”

“Bullshit!” He slams his open palm against the wall. It startles me, but I stay still. “Get out, Tess.”

“No, Hardin.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do? Go find Zed. Go fuck him, for all I fucking care—I’ll do the same, believe me, Tessa. I will leave here and fuck every girl I lay eyes on.”

Tears spring to my eyes, but he doesn’t pay any mind. “You’re saying these things out of anger, you don’t mean them.”

His eyes search the room for something, anything, left to break. He hasn’t left much unscathed. Luckily, the things that have been demolished are mostly mine. The poster board I brought home for Landon’s biology assignment . . . the suitcase full of books has been dumped out and my novels are scattered across the carpet. Some of my clothes have been pulled from the dresser, and the chair, of course, has been knocked to the floor and broken.

“I don’t want to look at you . . . go,” he says gruffly, but softer than before.

“I’m sorry for kissing him, Hardin. I know it hurts you, and for that I’m sorry.” I look up at him.

Silently he studies my face. I jump slightly when his thumb wipes away the tears staining my cheeks.

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispers.

“I’m not,” I say in an equally hushed tone.

“I don’t know if I can get past this.” He breathes heavily.

My knees nearly buckle at the thought. I don’t think there has ever been a time since we declared our love for each other that I’ve had to consider Hardin being the one to end things over an infidelity. My kiss with the stranger on New Year’s was nothing like this; he was pissed off and I knew he would let me have it, but deep down I knew he wouldn’t hold on to it for too long. This time, though, it was with Zed, whom he had had a rocky friendship with because of me; they’ve been in several fights, and I know it drives Hardin insane for me to even speak to Zed.

I don’t think getting back into a full-blown relationship with Hardin is a good idea at this moment, but our problems have shifted from uncertainty over the future to this. Unwanted tears spill from my unfaithful eyes, and his frown deepens.

“Don’t cry,” he coaxes, his fingers expanding and resting against my cheek.

“I’m sorry,” I breathe; a single tear falls onto my lips, and I lick it away. “Do you love me still?” I have to ask.

I know he does, but I’m desperate and needy for the words.

“Of course I do, I always will.” He comforts me in a soothing voice.

It’s a strangely beautiful sound, really: the way his exasperated breathing is heavy and loud but his voice is calm and soft, like an image of angry waves crashing against the shore with no sound.

“When will you know what you want to do?” I ask him, afraid of the answer.

He sighs and presses his forehead against mine as his breathing begins to slightly slow down. “I don’t know; it’s not like I can be without you.”

“I can’t either,” I whisper to him. “Be without you.”

“We can’t seem to get our shit together, can we?”

“No, not at all.” I almost smile at our calm exchange of words after his tantrum only minutes ago.

“We can try?” I offer, and I attempt to lean into him, nervously waiting for him to stop me.

“Come here.” His fingers press into the skin on my arms, and he brings me to his chest.

It feels heavenly, like visiting home after being away for so long, and the scent of him as I bury my face into his T-shirt calms my heart.

“You won’t go near him again,” he says into my hair.

“I know.” I agree without thinking.

“This doesn’t mean I’m over it, I just miss you.”

“I know,” I repeat, nuzzling further into him. His heartbeat is solid and rapid against my ear.

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