“I won’t do it again . . . I swear . . . Just please tell me you won’t leave me . . .” he mutters.
Every ounce of anger and entitlement I felt has evaporated. “I won’t leave you, Hardin. I won’t leave you.” And because he looks at me like he needs to hear it, I say it a few more times.
“I love you, Tessa, more than anything,” he says and wipes my tears.
Chapter ninety-one
We haven’t moved from our spot in the chair for at least thirty minutes, when finally Hardin lifts his head from my chest and says, “Can I eat now?”
“Yes.” I give him a weak smile and start to climb off his lap, but he pulls me back.
“I didn’t say for you to move. Just slide my plate over.” He smiles.
I slide his plate over and reach for mine across the small table. I am still reeling from this new information and now I feel a little uneasy about going to the wedding in the morning.
Sensing Hardin doesn’t want to discuss his confession further, I take a bite off my plate and say, “You are a much better cook than I expected. Having shown your hand, I expect you’ll cook for me more often.”
“We will see,” he says with his mouth full and we eat the rest of the meal in a comfortable silence.
Later, when I’m loading the dishwasher, he walks up behind me and asks, “Are you still mad?”
“Not exactly,” I tell him. “I am still not happy about you being out all night, and I do want to know who you fought, and why.” He opens his mouth to speak, but I stop him. “But not tonight.” I don’t think either of us can handle any more tonight.
“Okay,” he says softly. Worry flashes in his eyes but I choose to let it go.
“Oh, and I didn’t appreciate you throwing my internship in my face, either. That really hurt my feelings.”
“I know. That’s why I said it,” he answers, a little too honestly.
“I know. That’s exactly why I don’t like it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t do it again, okay?” I tell him and he nods. “I’m exhausted,” I groan in a small attempt to change the subject.
“Me, too; let’s lie down for the rest of the evening. I got the cable turned on.”
“I was supposed to be doing that.” I scowl at him.
He rolls his eyes and sits next to me on the bed. “You can just give me the money for it . . .”
I stare at the wall. “What time are we leaving here tomorrow for the wedding?”
“Whenever we feel like it.”
“It starts at three, so I think we should be there by two,” I say.
“An hour early?” he whines and I nod. “I don’t know why you insist—” he says but is cut off by my phone ringing.
The look on Hardin’s face as he leans over and grabs it tells me immediately who it is. “Why is he calling?” he huffs.
“I don’t know, Hardin, but I think I should answer.” I grab the phone from his hand.
“Noah?” My voice is soft and shaky as Hardin’s glower burns a hole through the apartment.
“Hey, Tessa, I’m sorry to call you on a Friday night but . . . well . . .” He sounds panicked.
“What?” I push, since he always takes longer than necessary to explain stressful situations.
When I look over to Hardin he mouths, “Speaker.”
I give him an are-you-kidding look, but end up putting Noah on speaker anyway so Hardin can eavesdrop.
“Your mom got a call from the dorm supervisor about your final bill being paid for the room, so she knows you moved out. I told her I have no idea where you live now, which is the truth, but she refused to believe me. And so she’s coming there.”
“Coming here? To campus?”
“Yeah, I guess. I don’t know, but she said she’s going to find you, and she’s being irrational and is really pissed-off. I just wanted to warn you, you know, that she’s coming.”
“I can’t believe her!” I shout into the phone, but then thank Noah before hanging up.
I lie back on the bed. “Great . . . What an excellent way to spend tonight.”
Hardin leans on one elbow next to me. “She won’t be able to find you. No one knows where we live,” he assures me and smooths my bangs off my forehead.
“She may not find me, but she sure will pester Steph and ask every single person she sees in the dorm and make a huge scene.” I cover my face with my hands. “I should just go over there.”
“Or you could call her and give her our address and let her come here. On your territory, so you have the upper hand,” he suggests.
“You’re okay with that?” My hands move from my face.
“Of course. She’s your mother, Tessa.”
I look at him quizzically, given the rift between him and his dad. But when I see he’s serious, I’m reminded that he’s willing to work on things with his parents, so I should be that brave, too. “I’ll call her,” I say.
I look at the phone for a while before taking a deep breath and hitting her number. She’s terse on the phone, speaking very quickly. I can tell she’s saving all her hateful energy for when she sees me in person. I don’t give her any details about the apartment or tell her that I live here; I only tell her the address where I am and get off the phone as fast as I can.
Instinctively, I jump out of bed and begin to straighten up our place.
“The apartment is already clean. We have barely touched anything,” Hardin says.