“You would?” His bright eyes are shining, and I’m terrified that he may cry. I have no fucking idea what I would do if he cried right now. Run. I would run into the other room and hide behind Tessa.
“Yep. Now let’s talk about something a little less morbid.”
“What’s morbid?”
“Something that’s twisted and fucked up,” I explain.
“Bad word,” he scolds me.
“It’s okay for me to say, because I’m an adult.”
“Still a bad word.”
“You said two of them earlier. I could tell your dad on you,” I threaten.
“I’ll tell your pretty girl on you,” he counters, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Okay, okay, you win,” I say, gesturing for him to just stay put.
Tessa peers around the corner. “Smith, do you want to come in here with me?”
Smith looks at her, then looks back up at me and asks, “Can I stay with Hardin?”
“I don’t—” she begins, but I interrupt.
“Fine.” I sigh and hand the kid the remote.
Chapter seventy-two
TESSA
I watch as Smith settles in on the couch, scooting slightly closer to Hardin. Hardin looks at him with caution but doesn’t stop him or say anything about his proximity. It’s ironic that Smith seems to like Hardin, when Hardin clearly despises children. Though since Smith feels in some ways more like a country gentleman from an Austen novel, he may or may not be included in that category.
Never, he said to Smith when asked about marrying me.
Never. He never plans on having a future with me. I knew this somewhere deep inside, but it still hurts me to hear him say it, especially the cold and confident way he said it, like it was a joke or something. He could have softened the blow, even just a little.
I don’t want to be married right now, obviously, not for years. But it’s the idea that it isn’t even a possibility that hurts me, a lot. He says that he wants to be with me forever, yet he doesn’t want to be married? Are we supposed to just be “boyfriend and girlfriend” forever? Am I okay with never having children? Will he love me enough to make this all okay, despite the future I had always envisioned for myself?
I honestly don’t know, and my head is pounding thinking about it. I don’t want to obsess about the future right now; I’m only nineteen. We’ve been getting along so well, and I don’t want to ruin that.
After the kitchen is clean and the dishwasher is loaded, I check on Hardin and Smith once more before going into the bedroom to get my things ready for tomorrow. My phone rings as I lay out a long black skirt for tomorrow. Kimberly.
“Hey, is everything okay?” I ask after answering.
“Yeah, everything is okay. They’re giving him some antibiotics and we should be getting sent home soon. It may be late, I hope that’s okay,” she says.
“Of course it is. Do what you need to do.”
“How is Smith doing?”
“He’s good—he’s actually hanging out with Hardin,” I tell her, still not believing it myself.
She laughs heartily. “Really? Hardin?”
“Yeah, tell me about it.” I roll my eyes and make my way back into the living room.
“Well, that’s unexpected, but it’s good training for when you have little Hardins running around the house,” she teases.
Her words tug at my heart, and I bite down on my lip. “Yeah . . . guess so.” I want to change the subject before the lump in my throat grows any larger.
“Well, we’ll be done soon, hopefully. Smith’s bedtime is ten, but since it’s already ten, just let him stay up until you want him to go to sleep. Thank you again,” Kimberly says and hangs up.
I make a quick stop in the kitchen to pack a small lunch for tomorrow; I’ll just bring leftovers from tonight.
“Why?” I hear Smith ask Hardin.
“Because they’re trapped on the island.”
“Why?”
“Their plane crashed.”
“How come they’re not dead?”
“It’s a show.”
“A stupid show,” Smith says, and Hardin laughs.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Hardin shakes his head in amusement, and Smith giggles. They look alike in some ways: the dimples, the shape of their eyes, and their smiles. I imagine that except for the blond hair and shade of eyes, Hardin looked much like Smith when he was younger.
“Is it okay if I go to bed, or do you want me to watch him?” I ask Hardin.
He looks at me, then at Smith. “Um . . . that’s cool. We’re just watching mindless television anyway,” he says.
“Okay, good night, Smith. I’ll see you in a bit when Kim is here to get you,” I tell him. He looks over at Hardin, then back to me and smiles.
“Night,” he whispers.
I turn to go back into the room, but I’m stopped by Hardin’s fingers wrapping around my arm. “Hey, no good night to me?” He pouts.
“Oh . . . yeah. Sorry.” I hug him and give him a kiss on the cheek. “Good night,” I say, and he hugs me again.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asks, pushing my shoulders back so he can look at me.
“Yeah, I’m just really tired, and he wants to hang out with you, anyway.” I smile weakly.
“I love you,” he tells me and kisses my forehead.
“I love you,” I respond and hurry to the bedroom and close the door behind me.
Chapter seventy-three
TESSA