When Tessa was mine, she always slept peacefully. She was my anchor, my comfort in the night, fighting off my demons for me when I was too weak, too distracted by self-pity, to help her battle them. She was there, shield in hand, fighting every image that threatened my fucked-up mind. She bore the burden on her own, and that’s what finally broke her.
Then I remind myself that she’s still mine; she’s just not ready to admit it again.
She has to be. There is no other way.
I park my car in front of my father’s house. The leasing agent gave me shit when I called to tell him that I’m moving out. He fed me some bullshit about charging me two months’ rent for breaking the lease, but I hung up midconversation. I don’t care what I have to pay, I’m not living there anymore. I know it’s an impulsive decision, and I don’t exactly have another place to live, but I’m hoping I can stay at Ken’s for a few days with Tessa until I can convince her to move in with me, in Seattle.
I’m ready for this. I’m ready to live in Seattle if that’s what she wants, and my offer of marriage isn’t going anywhere. Not this time. I’ll marry that girl and live in Seattle until I die if that’s what she wants, if that’s what makes her happy.
“How long is that chick staying?” I ask Landon, pointing out the window at the Prius parked next to his car. It was kind of cool of him to offer to take me to get my car, especially after I chewed him out for sleeping in the room with Tessa. I wouldn’t have been able to unlock the door, he pointed out, but I would have broken the damn thing down if I had the energy. The idea of the two of them sharing a bed has been driving me fucking crazy since I heard their hushed voices from outside the door. I ignored the puzzled look on his face when he found me half-asleep, sitting on the floor outside the door.
I tried to fall asleep in the empty bed in my designated room, but I just couldn’t. I had to be closer to her just in case something happened and she screamed again. At least that’s what I kept telling myself as I struggled to stay awake in the hallway the entire night.
“I don’t know. Sophia is leaving to go back to New York later this week.” His voice comes out high-pitched and awkward as hell.
What the hell’s that all about? “What?” I press him as we walk inside the house.
“Oh, nothing.”
But Landon’s cheeks flush, and I follow him into the living room, where Tessa is standing near the window, staring off into space while Karen and mini-Karen share a laugh.
Why isn’t Tessa laughing? Why isn’t she at least engaged in the conversation?
The woman smiles at Landon. “There you are!”
She’s pretty enough, nowhere near Tessa’s beauty, but she’s easy on the eyes for sure. As she approaches, I look over and notice that, again, Landon is blushing . . . a pastry is in his hand . . . she’s smiling wide . . . and it clicks.
Why didn’t I see it before? He fucking likes her! A million jokes and embarrassing comments flood my mind, and I literally have to bite my tongue to prevent myself from torturing him with this information.
I ignore the start of their conversation and walk straight to Tessa. She doesn’t seem to notice my presence until I’m directly in front of her.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
There’s a fine line between space and . . . well . . . my normal behavior, and I’m trying my best to find a good balance even if it’s hard to break the habit.
I know that if I give her too much space, she will withdraw from me, but if I suffocate her, she will run. This is new for me, completely uncharted territory. I hate to admit this to myself, but I had gotten a little too used to her being my emotional punching bag. I hate myself for the way I’ve treated her, and I know she deserves better than me, but I need this last chance to become someone better for her.
No, I need to be myself. Just a version of me who is worthy of her love.
“Nothing, just baking. The usual. Well, taking a little break from baking, actually.” A faint smile crosses her lips, and I grin at her. These small affections, these minuscule hints of adoration toward me, fuel my hope. A hope that’s both new and very much out of my comfort zone, but I’ll gladly spend my time figuring it out.
Karen and Landon’s number one spank-bank chick come over and signal to Tessa, and within seconds they’re all back in the kitchen while Landon and I are forgotten and left alone in the living room.
As soon as I’m sure the women can’t hear me, a devilish grin stretches across my face and I accuse Landon, “You’re hot for her.”
“How many times do I have to tell you? Tessa and I are just friends.” He sighs an annoyed and overdramatic sigh while scowling at me. “I thought you understood that after cussing me out for an hour this morning.”
I waggle my eyebrows. “Oh, I’m not talking about Tessa. I mean Sarah.”
“Her name is Sophia.”
I shrug and keep smiling. “Same thing.”
“No.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s not. You act like you can’t remember any woman’s name except Tess.”
“Tessa,” I correct him with a frown. “And I don’t need to remember any other women’s names.”
“It’s disrespectful. You’ve called Sophia every name that begins with an S, except her actual name, and it drove me insane when you called Dakota Danielle.”
“You’re annoying.” I sit down on the couch, smiling at my step . . . Actually, he’s not actually my stepbrother anymore. Never was. Realizing that fact, I’m not really sure how I feel about that.