me in the most comforting and reassuring embrace, and it’s exactly what I need right now.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” he says into my hair.
“I’m sorry that she said those terrible things about you.” My need to defend him is stronger than any concern for myself or my mother.
“Shh. Don’t worry about me. People say shit about me all the time,” he reminds me.
“That doesn’t make it okay.”
“Tessa, please don’t worry about me right now. What do you need? Can I do anything for you?” he asks.
“Maybe some ice?” I choke.
“Sure, baby.” He kisses my forehead and walks over to the fridge.
I knew her coming here wouldn’t end well, but I hadn’t expected it to be as bad as it was. On one hand I am beyond proud of myself for standing up to her, but at the same time I feel terribly guilty for what I said about my father. I know it wasn’t her fault that he left, and it’s never been lost on me that she’s been terribly lonely for the last eight years. She has never even gone on a date since him; she’s dedicated all of her time to me, grooming me into the woman she wanted me to be. She wants me to be just like her, and that just isn’t going to work for me. I respect her and how hard she worked, but I need to carve my own path and she has to see that she can’t make up for her mistakes through me. I make too many of my own mistakes for that to work, anyway. I wish she could be happy for me and see how much I love Hardin. I know his appearance shocks her, but if she would just take the time to try to get to know him, I’m sure she would love him as much I do.
As long as he could contain his rudeness . . . which isn’t likely, but I have noticed the small changes in him. Like the way he holds my hand in public and the way he leans down to kiss me nearly every time I pass him in the hallway of our apartment. Maybe I am the only person he will ever let inside, the only one who he reveals secrets to, and the only one he loves, but that’s fine with me. To be honest, the selfish part of me kind of enjoys it.
Hardin pulls the chair out next to me and puts the makeshift ice pack against my cheek. The soft kitchen towel wrapped around it feels great against my sensitive skin.
“I can’t believe she smacked me,” I say slowly. The towel drops onto the tile floor and he reaches down to pick it up.
“Me either. I thought I was going to lose it,” he says and looks into my eyes.
“I thought you were too,” I admit and give him a weak smile.
I feel like today has been dragging on for too long; it has been the longest and most draining day of my life. I’m exhausted and I just want to be carried away. Preferably into bed with Hardin, to forget about the downfall of my relationship with my mother.
“I love you too much, or trust me, I would have.” He smiles back and kisses both of my closed eyelids.
I choose to believe that he wouldn’t actually do anything to her, that he is just speaking metaphorically. Somehow I know that even through all his rage he wouldn’t do something terrible, and that makes me love him more. I have come to learn that when it comes to me, Hardin is more bark than bite.
“I really want to go to bed,” I tell him and he nods.
“Of course.”
I pull the blanket back before lying on my side of the bed. “Do you think she will always be this way?” I ask Hardin.
He shrugs, tossing a spare pillow onto the floor. “I would say no, that people change and mature. But I don’t want to get your hopes up.”
I lie down on my stomach, burying my face in my pillow.
“Hey,” Hardin says softly against my neck, trailing a finger down the curve of my back. I roll over, sighing as I take in the concern in his eyes.
“I’m fine,” I lie. I need a distraction. I lift my hand to his face, brushing my thumb over the curve of his full lips. I tilt the metal ring to the side and he smiles.