After Ever Happy (After #4) (29 page)

I keep my arms crossed. “I want to be here for you, and I will be—if you need to talk about anything or vent, or if you just want someone to be there—but I really think we should stay in common areas. Like the living room or the kitchen.”

“You’re not serious,” he scoffs.

“I am.”

“Common areas? Like with Landon serving as our Eleanor Tilney? This is ridiculous, Tess. We can be in the same room without a damn chaperone.”

“I didn’t say anything about chaperones. I just think with how everything is now”—I sigh—“I think I’m going back to Seattle for a few days.” I hadn’t fully decided that until now, but now that I’ve spoken the words, they make sense. I have to get my things ready to move to New York, and I miss Kimberly. I have a doctor’s appointment that I’ve been trying not to think about, and I don’t see any good coming from playing house at the Scott residence. Yet again.

“I’ll come with you,” he offers plainly, like it’s the simplest solution.

“Hardin . . .”

Without asking, he takes a seat on the bed, bare chested and all. “I was going to wait to bring this up, but I’m moving out of that apartment and am moving to Seattle, too. That’s what you wanted all along, and I’m ready to do it. I don’t know what took me so long.” He swipes his hand across his hair, pushing the drying strands so they stand up in a messy wave.

I shake my head at him. “What are you talking about?”
Now he wants to move to Seattle?

“I’ll get us a nice place. It won’t be a mansion like you’re used to at Vance’s, but it will be nicer than anywhere you can afford on your own.”

Though I know his words weren’t meant as an insult, that’s how they
feel
, and instantly I’m on edge. “You don’t get it,” I accuse, flinging my arms up. “You’re missing the entire point of everything!”

“What point? Why does there have to be a point to any of this?” He scoots a little closer. “Why can’t we just be, and why can’t you just let me show you who I can be for you? It doesn’t have to be about points and keeping score and making yourself miserable because you love me and won’t allow yourself to be with me.” He covers my hand with his own.

I pull mine away. “I want to agree with you, and I would love to buy into this fantasy world where we could work, but I’ve done that for too long and I can’t do it anymore. You tried to warn me before, and you gave me chance after chance to see the inevitable, but I was in denial. I can see it now, though—I see that we have been doomed from the start. How many times will we have this conversation?”

He looks at me with those penetrating green eyes. “As many times as it takes to change your mind.”

“I never could change yours; what makes you think you could change mine?”

“What just happened between us didn’t make it obvious to you?”

“I want you to be a part of my life, just not in that way. Not as my boyfriend.”

“Husband?” His eyes are full of humor and . . .
hope
?

I stare at him, amazed that he would
dare
 . . . “We aren’t together, Hardin! And you can’t throw marriage in my face because you think it will change my mind—I wanted you to
want
to marry me, not offer it as a last resort!”

His breathing accelerates, but his voice comes out smooth. “It’s not a last resort. I’m not playing games with you—I’ve learned my lesson there. I want to marry you because I can’t imagine living my life any other way, and you can go ahead and tell me I’m wrong, but you know we may as well get married now. We won’t be apart, and you know it.”

He sounds so sure of himself and sure of our relationship, and again I’m confused and can’t decide if I should be angry or if I should be happy about his words.

Marriage doesn’t hold the same value as it did only months ago. My parents were never married; I could barely believe it when I found out that they pretended to be to appease my mother and my grandparents. Trish and Ken were married, and that legal binding couldn’t save their sinking ship.
What’s the point of being married, really?
It almost never works anyway, and I’m beginning to see that it’s a ridiculous concept. It’s messed up, the way the idea is drilled into our heads that we should promise ourselves to another and depend on that person as our source of happiness.

Lucky for me, I’ve finally learned that I can’t depend on anyone else for my happiness. “I don’t think I even want to be married, ever.”

Hardin sucks in a harsh breath and his hand moves to my chin, “What? You don’t mean that.” His eyes search mine.

“Yes, I do mean that. What’s the point? It never works, and divorce isn’t cheap.” I shrug my shoulders and ignore the horrified expression covering Hardin’s face.

“What the hell are you saying? Since when are you so cynical?”

Cynical? I don’t believe that I’m cynical. I just need to be realistic and not keep holding out for a storybook ending that I will obviously never have. But it’s also not like I’m going to put up with his back-and-forth all the time.

“I don’t know, since I realized how hopelessly stupid I was. I don’t blame you for ending things with me. I was obsessed with having a life I could never have, and it had to drive you insane.”

Hardin tugs at his hair in that frustrated way he does. “Tessa, you’re talking crazy shit. You weren’t obsessed with anything. I was just an asshole.” He groans in frustration and kneels in front of me. “Fuck, now look what I’ve got you thinking! This is all backwards.”

I stand up, hating feeling guilty for saying the truth about how I feel. I’m so internally conflicted, and being in this small room with Hardin isn’t helping. Near him I can’t focus, and I can’t stick to my defenses when he’s looking at me like each of my words is a weapon against him—no matter how true that is, it still makes me feel sympathy for him when I don’t think I should.

I was always so quick to judge women who felt this way. While watching an overly dramatic relationship on-screen, I was quick to label the woman as “weak,” but it’s not that simple or that cut-and-dried.

There are so many things to take into consideration when labeling someone, and I’ll admit before I met Hardin, I did this far too often. Who am I to judge people based on their feelings? I never knew how strong those foolish emotions could be; I couldn’t comprehend the magnetic pull that could be felt. I never understood the way love overpowers common sense and passion overtakes logic, or how unnerving it is that no one else really knows how you feel—no one can judge me for being weak or stupid, no one can put me down for the way I feel.

I will never claim to be perfect, and I am struggling every second to keep myself above water, but it’s not as easy as people assume. It’s not so easy to walk away from someone when he has made his way into every cell, when he has taken over every thought, and he has been responsible for the best and worst feelings I’ve ever had. No one, not even the doubting part of me, can make me feel bad for loving passionately and hoping desperately that I could have that great love that I’ve read about in novels.

By the time I finish justifying my actions to myself, my subconscious has taken her hair down and closed her eyes, relieved that I’ve finally stopped beating myself up for the way that my emotions have been playing me.

“Tessa, I’m coming to Seattle. I won’t try and force you to live with me, but I want to be where you are. I’ll keep my distance until you’re ready for more, and I’ll play nice with everyone, even Vance.”

“That’s not the issue.” I sigh. His determination is admirable, but it’s never been consistent. He will get bored eventually and move on with his life. We are too far gone this time.

“Like I said before, I will try to keep my distance, but I’m coming to Seattle. If you won’t help me decide on an apartment, I’ll have to choose it myself, but I’ll make sure you’ll like it, too.”

He doesn’t need to know my plans. I use my thoughts to drown out his words. If I hear them, if I really listen to them, they will break down the barrier I’ve built. The surface split open only an hour ago, and I let my emotions control my body, but I can’t let that happen again.

HARDIN LEAVES THE ROOM
after another ten minutes of me trying to ignore his promises, and I start packing my bag for Seattle. I’ve been going back and forth, traveling too much lately, and I look forward to the day when I finally have a place to call home. I need the security, I need the stability.

How is it that I spent my entire life planning for stability only to be out in the world swaying along with no base to call my own, no safety net, nothing at all?

When I reach the bottom of the stairs, Landon is leaning against the wall, and he stops me with a gentle hand on my arm. “Hey, I wanted to talk to you before you leave.”

I stand in front of him and wait for him to speak. I hope he’s not changing his mind on letting me tag along to New York.

“I just wanted to check with you and see if you’ve changed your mind about coming with me to NYU. If you did, that’s okay. I just need to know so I can tell Ken about the flight arrangements.”

“No, I’m still coming. I just need to go to Seattle and say goodbye to Kim and—” I want to tell him about my appointment, but I don’t think I’m ready to face that just yet. Nothing is certain, but I’d rather not think about it just yet.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel like you have to go, I’ll understand if you want to stay here, with him.” Landon’s voice is so kind, so understanding, that I can’t help but throw my arms around his shoulders.

“You are amazing; you know that, right?” I smile up at him. “I haven’t changed my mind. I want to do this; I have to do this for myself.”

“When are you going to tell him? What do you think he will do?”

I haven’t put much thought into what Hardin will do when I tell him my plans to move across the country. I don’t have time to let Hardin’s opinion shape my plans, not anymore.

“I honestly don’t know how he will react. Up until my father’s funeral, I don’t think he would have cared one bit.”

Landon nods noncommittally. Then noises from the kitchen break our silence, and I’m reminded that I haven’t congratulated him on the news.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that your mother is pregnant!” I exclaim, thankful for the easy subject change.

“I know, I’m sorry. She just told me, and you’ve been keeping yourself locked in that room.” He smiles, gently teasing me.

“Are you sad that you’re leaving now with a baby sibling on the way?” I briefly wonder if Landon likes being an only child. We have only discussed it a few times, but he always avoids talking about his father, so the attention was quickly directed back to me each time.

“A little. I’m just worried how my mom will handle the pregnancy alone. And I’ll miss her and Ken, but I’m ready for this.” He smiles at me. “I think I am, at least.”

I nod with assurance. “We will be fine. Especially you; you’ve already been accepted. I’m moving there without knowing if I will even get in. I’ll just be floating around New York without being enrolled, and I’ll have no job and—”

Landon’s hand covers my mouth, and he laughs. “I feel that same panic when I think about the change, but I force myself to focus on the positives.”

“Which are?” I mumble against his hand.

“Well, it’s New York. That’s all I’ve gotten so far,” he admits with a deep laugh, and I find myself smiling from ear to ear as Karen joins us in the hallway.

“I’ll miss that sound when you two leave,” she says, her eyes shining under the lights.

Ken walks up behind her and places a kiss on the back of her head. “We all will.”

W
hen I answer the knock at my door, I don’t bother trying to hide my disappointment when I’m greeted with Ken’s awkward smile instead of the girl I want.

He stands there, clearly waiting for permission to enter. “I wanted to talk to you about the baby,” he says tentatively.

I knew this was coming, and much to my disappointment, there is no way to avoid this shit. “Come in, then.” I move out of his way, sitting down in the chair next to the desk. I have no fucking clue what he’s going to say, or what I’m going to say, or how this will end up, but I can’t see it going well.

Ken doesn’t sit down. He just stands by the dresser with his hands shoved into the pockets of his gray dress slacks. The fact that the gray matches the stripes on his tie and he’s wearing a black sweater vest just screams,
I’m the chancellor at an accredited university!
But looking past that, I see the worry in his brown eyes and how his brows are knitted together. He’s fumbling with his hands in such a pathetic way that I just want to put him out of his misery.

“I’m fine. I know you probably assumed I’d be breaking shit and throwing a tantrum, but, honestly, I don’t care if you’re having a baby,” I finally say.

He sighs, not looking relieved as I had sort of hoped he would. “It’s okay if you are a little upset about it. I know it’s unexpected, and I know how you feel about me. I just hope this doesn’t make your ill feelings toward me grow.” He looks down at the floor, and I find myself wishing Tessa were here next to me, instead of wherever with Karen. I need to see her before she leaves. I promised to give her space, but I didn’t expect this father-son moment to be thrown at me.

“You know nothing of how I feel about you.” Hell, I don’t think
I
even know how I feel about him.

His patience with me is never ending as he says, “I hope this doesn’t change or take away from any of the progress we’ve made. I know I have a lot to make up for, but I really hope you’ll allow me to keep trying.”

When I hear that, I feel a kinship between us that I hadn’t before. We are both fuck-ups; both of us have been led by stupid decisions and addictions, and I’m pissed that I got this trait from being raised by him. If Vance had raised me, I wouldn’t be this way. I wouldn’t be so fucked-up inside. I wouldn’t have been afraid of my dad’s coming home drunk, and I wouldn’t have sat on the floor with my mum for hours while she wept and bled and struggled to stay conscious after the beating she endured because of his mistakes.