After We Collided (The After Series) (55 page)

“The Seattle office is breathtaking—you should see it,” Christian says to a small group of us. “It’s right on the water; it’s two times larger than our office here. I can’t believe I’m finally expanding.”

I try to appear as interested as I can as a waiter hands me a glass of white wine. Well, I
am
interested—I’m just distracted. Distracted by the mention of Hardin and the idea of Seattle. As I stare out the glass wall at the water, I imagine Hardin and me moving into an apartment together amid the excitement of a new city, a new place, and new people. We would make new friends and start a new life there, together. Hardin would work for Vance again and he’d brag all day and night about how he makes more money than me, and I would fight him to be allowed to pay the cable bill.

“Tessa?”

I’m brought out of my pointless daydream by the sound of Trevor’s voice. “Sorry . . .” I stutter and realize it’s just the two of us now, and he’s beginning or finishing a story that I wasn’t even aware he was telling.

“As I was saying, my apartment is close to the new building and right in the middle of downtown—you should see the view.” He smiles. “The Seattle skyline is so beautiful, especially at night.”

I smile and nod. I bet it is. I bet it really, really is.

W
hat the fuck am I doing?

I keep pacing back and forth. This was a stupid fucking idea to begin with.

I kick a stone across the driveway. What am I expecting to happen . . . that she’ll run into my arms and forgive me for all the shit I have done to her? She’ll suddenly believe that I didn’t sleep with Carly?

I look up at Vance’s gorgeous house. Tessa probably isn’t even in there, and I’ll look like an idiot showing up uninvited. Actually, I’ll look like a dumb-ass either way. I should just leave.

Besides, this shirt is fucking itchy, and I hate dressing up. It’s only a black button-up shirt, but still.

Seeing my father’s car, I walk up the driveway a little bit and look inside. In the backseat is that hideous purse that Tessa brings along to every single function she attends.

So she’s inside, she’s in there. My empty stomach flutters at the idea of seeing her, of being close to her.
What would I even say?
I don’t know. I have to explain how my days have been complete hell since I left for England and how I need her, I need her more than anything. I have to tell her that I’m an asshole and I can’t believe that I fucked up the one good thing in my life, her. She’s everything to me, she always will be.

I’ll just go inside and get her to leave with me so we can talk—
I’m nervous, fuck am I nervous.

I’m going to throw up. No. But if there were food in my stomach
, I’m sure I would. I know I look like complete shit; I wonder if she does. Not that she ever could, but has it been as hard for her as it’s been for me?

I finally reach the front door, but then turn back around. I hate being around people as it is, and there are at least fifteen cars in this driveway. Everyone will stare at me, and I’ll look like a goddamned fool, which is exactly what I am.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I spin around and quickly ring the doorbell.

This is for Tessa. This is for her, I keep reminding myself when Kim opens the door with a surprised smile.

“Hardin? I didn’t know you’d be here,” she says. I can tell she’s trying her hardest to be polite, but there’s an anger coming to the surface, probably because she’ll feel defensive of Tessa.

“Yeah . . . me either,” I reply.

Then a new emotion—pity. It seeps into her eyes when she takes in my appearance, which is probably even worse than I imagine, since I just got off the plane and came straight here.

“Well . . . come inside, it’s freezing out,” she offers and waves me inside.

For a moment I’m stunned by the way Vance’s house is decorated like a fucking work of art; it doesn’t even look like anyone lives here. It’s cool and all, but I like older things, not so Modern Art.

“We’re just getting ready to eat,” she tells me as I follow her into a dining room with glass walls.

And that’s when I see her.

My heart stops, and a pressure lands on my chest that is so overwhelming it nearly chokes me. As she listens to someone telling her a story or something, she smiles and slides her hand across her forehead to push her hair back. The reflection of the setting sun behind her makes her glow—literally—and I can’t move.

I hear her laugh, and for the first time in ten days I can
breathe. I’ve missed her so much, and she looks phenomenal—she always does—but the red dress she’s wearing and the sun hitting her skin, the smile on her face . . . why is she smiling and laughing?

Shouldn’t she be crying and shouldn’t she look like hell? She giggles again, and my eyes finally discern who she’s talking to, who’s making her forget me.

Fucking Trevor.
I hate that bastard so fucking much—I could walk over there and throw him through that glass window and no one would be able to stop me. Why the fuck is he always around her? He’s a fucking twit, and I’m going to fucking kill him.

No. I need to calm down. If I hurt him right now, Tessa will never listen to me.

I close my eyes for a few seconds and talk myself down. If I stay calm she’ll listen, and she’ll leave here with me so we can go home, where I’ll beg for her forgiveness, and she’ll tell me she still loves me, and we’ll make love and everything will be okay.

I continue to watch her; she looks animated as she begins to tell a story. The hand that isn’t holding the glass of wine moves around as she talks and smiles. My heart races as I spot the bracelet on her wrist. She’s still wearing it—she’s still wearing it. That’s a good sign; it has to be.

Fucking Trevor watches her intently, his expression holding an adoration for her that makes my blood boil. He looks like a love-sick puppy, and she’s feeding right into it.

Has she moved on already? With him?

It would break me if she did . . . but I couldn’t blame her, really. I haven’t returned her calls. I haven’t even bothered to purchase a new phone yet. She probably thinks I don’t care, that I’ve moved on already, too.

My mind travels back to that quiet street in England, to Natalie’s swollen belly, to Elijah’s adoring smile for his fiancée. Trevor is looking at Tessa that same way.

Trevor is her Elijah. He’s her second chance to have what she deserves.

The realization hits me like a ton of bricks. I need to leave. I have to get out of here and leave her alone.

It now makes sense to me why I ran into Natalie that day. I saw the girl I hurt tremendously so I wouldn’t make the same mistake again with Tessa.

I have to leave. I have to get out of here before she sees me.

But the moment I admit this to myself, she looks up and her eyes meet mine. Her smile vanishes, and the glass of wine slips from her hand and shatters on the hardwood floor.

Everyone turns to look at her, but she stays focused on me. I break eye contact, and see Trevor looking at her, confused but ready to spring into action to help her.

Tessa blinks a few times, and her eyes travel to the floor. “I’m so sorry,” she says frantically and bends down to try to gather the pieces of broken glass.

“Oh, please—it’s okay! I’ll grab a broom and some paper towels,” Kimberly calls and hurries off.

I need to get the fuck out of here. I turn, ready to run. And nearly trip over a little person. I look down and see Smith, who’s staring at me blankly.

“Thought you weren’t coming,” he says.

I shake my head and pat him on the head. “Yeah . . . I was just leaving.”

“Why?”

“Because I shouldn’t be here,” I tell him and look over my shoulder. Trevor has grabbed the little brush from Kimberly and is helping Tessa gather the shards of glass and toss them into a small bag. There has to be some symbolism behind this, behind watching him help her pick up the pieces. Fucking metaphors.

“I don’t like it either.” Smith groans, and I look back at him and nod.

“Stay?” he asks innocently. Hopefully.

I look back and forth between Tessa and the kid. I don’t feel as annoyed with the little guy as I once did. I don’t think I have the energy to be annoyed with him.

A hand suddenly falls on my shoulder. “You should listen to him,” Christian says and squeezes a little. “At least stay until after dinner. Kim has put a lot of effort into tonight,” he adds with a warm smile.

I look over to where his girlfriend in her simple black dress wipes a towel across the mess Tessa made because of me. And of course, Tessa is right beside her, apologizing more than she probably needs to.

“Fine,” I agree and give Christian a nod.

If I can make it through this dinner, I can make it through anything. I’ll just swallow the pain that comes from watching Tessa be so complacent without me. She appeared unaffected until she saw me, and then, when she did, sadness took over her beautiful face.

I’ll act the same, act like she isn’t killing me with every blink of her eyes. If she’s under the impression that I don’t care, she’ll be free to move on and finally be treated the way that she deserves.

Kimberly finishes cleaning up right as one of the waiters rings a little dinner bell. “Well, now that the show’s over, it’s time to eat!” she says with a laugh and sweeps her arms to guide people to the tables.

I follow Christian to a table, then pick a seat at random, not paying attention to where Tessa and her “friend” are. I play with the silverware a little, until my father and Karen come over and greet me.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, Hardin,” my father says.

I sigh as Karen takes the seat next to me. “Everyone keeps saying that,” I say. I don’t allow myself to look up from the table to find Tessa.

“Have you spoken to her?” Karen asks me almost inaudibly.

“No,” I reply.

I stare at the small printed swirl pattern on the tablecloth and wait for the waiters to bring out the food. Chickens, whole fucking chickens are brought out on large platters. Bowl after bowl of sides are placed in a row along the table. Finally, I can’t help but look up to find her. I look to my left, but then am surprised to find that she’s sitting almost directly across from me . . . next to fucking Trevor, of course.

She’s absentmindedly pushing an asparagus spear across her plate repeatedly. I know she doesn’t like them, but she’s too polite to not eat something someone else has prepared for her. I watch her as she closes her eyes and brings the vegetable to her mouth, and I almost smile when she tries her best to not appear disgusted as she washes the bite down with water, then pats her lips with a napkin.

She catches me staring at her, and I immediately look away. I can see the pain behind her blue-gray eyes. Pain that I’ve caused. Pain that will only stop if I stay away from her and let her move on.

All our unspoken words float in the air between us . . . and she directs her attention back to her plate.

I don’t look up again during the sumptuous meal, of which I barely take five bites. Even when I hear Trevor talking to Tessa about Seattle, I keep my eyes averted. For the first time in my life I wish I was someone else. I would give anything to be Trevor, to be able to make her happy, and not hurt her.

Throughout the meal, Tessa answers his questions briefly, and I know she’s thankful when Karen begins to talk about Landon and his longtime girlfriend in New York.

The sounds of a fork against a glass ring through the room, and Christian stands up and says, “If I could have everyone’s attention
, please . . .” He taps it one more time, then chuckles and adds, “I better stop before I break it,” giving Tessa a whimsical look.

Her cheeks flush, and I have to press my hands down against my thighs to hold myself in the chair and not tackle him to the ground for embarrassing her. I know he’s only teasing, but it’s still a dick move.

“Thank you all so much for coming, it means the world to me to have everyone that I love here with us. I am beyond proud of the work that everyone in this room has done, and I couldn’t possibly be making this move without you all. You’re the best team I could ever hope for. Who knows—maybe next year we’ll even be opening an office in Los Angeles or even New York, so I can drive you all batshit crazy with the planning again.” He nods at his own joke, but beams with ambition.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Kimberly says and smacks his butt.

“And you, especially you, Kimberly. I wouldn’t be anywhere without you.” His tone changes drastically, altering the air in the room as well. He takes her hands in his and moves to stand in front of where she sits. “After Rose died, I was living in complete darkness. The days came and went in a blur, and I never thought I would be happy again. I didn’t think I was capable of loving anyone else; I had accepted that it would just be Smith and me. Then one day this bubbly blonde crashes into my office, ten minutes late for her interview and with the most hideous coffee stain on her white blouse—and that was it for me. I was captivated by her spirit and your energy.” He turns to Kimberly. “You gave me life when I had none left in me. No one could ever replace Rose, and you knew that. But you didn’t try to replace her—you welcomed her memory and helped me get my life back. I only wish I had met you sooner, so I wasn’t miserable for so long first.” He
laughs a little, trying to draw back on the emotionality of the moment, but he fails.

“I love you, Kimberly, more than anything, and I would love to spend the rest of my life repaying you for what you have given me.” He bends down on one knee.

Is this some kind of fucking joke?
Is everyone I know suddenly deciding to get married or is this some fucked-up cosmic joke on me?

“This wasn’t a celebration party, this was an engagement party.” He smiles at the object of his affection. “Well, that is, if you say yes.”

Kimberly squeals and begins to cry. I look away from them as she practically screams her acceptance.

I can’t help but look at Tessa as she claps her hands to her face and wipes at her tears. I know she’s doing her best to smile for her friend in this joyful moment, to pretend they’re tears of happiness. But really, I can tell that she’s only pretending. She’s overwhelmed, having just listened to her friend hear everything that she once wished she would hear from me.