“I love you, Hardin. Always.” I press my palms against his chest and lean up to kiss him. I close my eyes, wishing, wanting, hoping that this won’t be last time I feel his lips against mine, that this won’t be the last time I ever feel this way. Even now, through the sadness and pain of leaving him here, I feel the constant pulse of electricity between us. I feel the soft curve of his lips and the burn of need for him, then the desire to change my mind about this and continue living in the cycle. I feel the compulsion that he holds over me, and I over him.
I pull away first, memorizing the low groan he makes when I do, and kiss his cheek. “I’ll call you when I get there.” I kiss him once more, just a small, quick goodbye kiss, and he runs his hands over his hair when he steps away from my car.
“Be safe, Tess,” Hardin says as I climb into the car and close the door.
I don’t trust myself enough to speak, but finally, as my car pulls away form the house, I whisper, “Bye, Hardin.”
Chapter sixty-four
TESSA
June
Am I okay?” I turn around before the full-length mirror, tugging at my dress, which hits right at the knees. The maroon silk has a nostalgic feel to it underneath my fingers. The moment I tried the dress on, I fell in love with the way the material and color reminded me of my past, of a time when I was someone else. “Do I look okay?”
This dress is different from its earlier version. That dress was loose fitting and high collared, with three-quarter-length sleeves. This dress is formfitting and has a slightly lower collar with a cutout pattern across the neckline and lacks sleeves. I will always love that old dress, but I’m happy with the way this dress fits me now.
“Of course you do, Theresa.” My mother leans against the doorway with a smile.
I’ve tried to calm my nerves in preparation for today, but I’ve drunk four cups of coffee, eaten half a bag of popcorn, and paced around my mother’s house like a madwoman.
Hardin’s graduation. I’m slightly paranoid that my company will be unwelcome, that the invitation was made out of politeness, only to be silently taken back in the time we’ve been separated. The minutes and hours have ticked by somehow, in the same way they always have and always will, but this time I’m not trying to forget him. This time, I’m remembering and healing and thinking back on my time with Hardin with a smile.
That night in April, the night that Landon handed me a reality check on a silver platter, I drove straight to my mother’s house. I called Kimberly and cried into the phone until she told me to suck it up, stop crying, and do something about the direction my life was headed in.
I hadn’t realized just how dark my life had become until I started to see light again. I spent the first week in complete solitude, barely leaving my childhood bedroom and forcing myself to eat. Every single thought I had revolved around Hardin and how much I missed him, needed him, loved him.
The next week was less painful, as it was in the past during our breakups, but this time was different. This time, I had to remind myself that Hardin was in a better place with his family, and I wasn’t leaving him to fend for himself. He had his family, if he needed anything. The daily calls from Karen were the only thing that kept me from driving back there to check on him one hundred times. I needed to get my life together, but I also needed to be sure I wasn’t doing more damage to Hardin’s life, or anyone else’s around me.
I had become that girl, the one that burdens everyone around her, and I didn’t realize it, because Hardin was all I could see. His opinion of me was the only thing that seemed to matter, and I spent my days and nights trying to fix him, fix us, while breaking everything else, including myself.
Hardin was persistent the first three weeks, but just like Karen’s daily calls, his lessened and lessened in frequency until I was only getting two calls a week, between the two of them. Karen assures me that Hardin is happy, so I can’t find it in myself to be upset that he doesn’t keep in touch as much as I wanted or hoped that he would.
I keep in touch with Landon the most. He felt terrible the morning after saying all those things to me. He came to Hardin’s room to apologize to me, only to find Hardin alone and pissed off. Landon immediately called me, begging me to come back and let him explain, but I assured him that he was right and I needed to stay away for a while. As much as I wanted to go to New York with him, I needed to go back to where the destruction of my life began and start over, alone.
Landon’s reminder that I wasn’t a part of their family hurt me the most. It made me feel unwelcomed, unloved, and unattached to anything or anyone. I felt like it was just me, untethered, floating around trying to latch myself onto anyone who would take me. I had become too dependent on others and was lost inside the cycle of wanting to be wanted. I hated that feeling. I hated it more than anything else, and I understand that Landon made that statement out of anger alone, but he wasn’t wrong. Sometimes anger breaks through to things we’re really feeling.
“Daydreaming won’t help you get out of the door any faster.” My mother walks toward me and pulls open the top drawer of my jewelry box. Dropping a pair of small diamond studs in my palm, she closes her hand around mine. “Wear these. It won’t be as bad as you think. Just keep yourself composed and don’t show any weakness.”
I laugh at her attempt to comfort me and push the back onto the second earring. “Thank you.” I smile at her reflection in the mirror.
And she, being Carol Young, suggests that I pull my hair back away from my face, add more lipstick, wear higher heels. I kindly thank her for her advice, though I don’t follow it, and silently thank her again when she doesn’t push her suggestions further.