by Anna Todd
I pull mine away. “I want to agree with you, and I would love to buy into this fantasy world where we could work, but I’ve done that for too long and I can’t do it anymore. You tried to warn me before, and you gave me chance after chance to see the inevitable, but I was in denial. I can see it now, though—I see that we have been doomed from the start. How many times will we have this conversation?”
He looks at me with those penetrating green eyes. “As many times as it takes to change your mind.”
“I never could change yours; what makes you think you could change mine?”
“What just happened between us didn’t make it obvious to you?”
“I want you to be a part of my life, just not in that way. Not as my boyfriend.”
“Husband?” His eyes are full of humor and . . . hope?
I stare at him, amazed that he would dare . . . “We aren’t together, Hardin! And you can’t throw marriage in my face because you think it will change my mind—I wanted you to want to marry me, not offer it as a last resort!”
His breathing accelerates, but his voice comes out smooth. “It’s not a last resort. I’m not playing games with you—I’ve learned my lesson there. I want to marry you because I can’t imagine living my life any other way, and you can go ahead and tell me I’m wrong, but you know we may as well get married now. We won’t be apart, and you know it.”
He sounds so sure of himself and sure of our relationship, and again I’m confused and can’t decide if I should be angry or if I should be happy about his words.
Marriage doesn’t hold the same value as it did only months ago. My parents were never married; I could barely believe it when I found out that they pretended to be to appease my mother and my grandparents. Trish and Ken were married, and that legal binding couldn’t save their sinking ship. What’s the point of being married, really? It almost never works anyway, and I’m beginning to see that it’s a ridiculous concept. It’s messed up, the way the idea is drilled into our heads that we should promise ourselves to another and depend on that person as our source of happiness.
Lucky for me, I’ve finally learned that I can’t depend on anyone else for my happiness. “I don’t think I even want to be married, ever.”
Hardin sucks in a harsh breath and his hand moves to my chin, “What? You don’t mean that.” His eyes search mine.
“Yes, I do mean that. What’s the point? It never works, and divorce isn’t cheap.” I shrug my shoulders and ignore the horrified expression covering Hardin’s face.
“What the hell are you saying? Since when are you so cynical?”
Cynical? I don’t believe that I’m cynical. I just need to be realistic and not keep holding out for a storybook ending that I will obviously never have. But it’s also not like I’m going to put up with his back-and-forth all the time.
“I don’t know, since I realized how hopelessly stupid I was. I don’t blame you for ending things with me. I was obsessed with having a life I could never have, and it had to drive you insane.”
Hardin tugs at his hair in that frustrated way he does. “Tessa, you’re talking crazy shit. You weren’t obsessed with anything. I was just an asshole.” He groans in frustration and kneels in front of me. “Fuck, now look what I’ve got you thinking! This is all backwards.”
I stand up, hating feeling guilty for saying the truth about how I feel. I’m so internally conflicted, and being in this small room with Hardin isn’t helping. Near him I can’t focus, and I can’t stick to my defenses when he’s looking at me like each of my words is a weapon against him—no matter how true that is, it still makes me feel sympathy for him when I don’t think I should.
I was always so quick to judge women who felt this way. While watching an overly dramatic relationship on-screen, I was quick to label the woman as “weak,” but it’s not that simple or that cut-and-dried.
There are so many things to take into consideration when labeling someone, and I’ll admit before I met Hardin, I did this far too often. Who am I to judge people based on their feelings? I never knew how strong those foolish emotions could be; I couldn’t comprehend the magnetic pull that could be felt. I never understood the way love overpowers common sense and passion overtakes logic, or how unnerving it is that no one else really knows how you feel—no one can judge me for being weak or stupid, no one can put me down for the way I feel.
I will never claim to be perfect, and I am struggling every second to keep myself above water, but it’s not as easy as people assume. It’s not so easy to walk away from someone when he has made his way into every cell, when he has taken over every thought, and he has been responsible for the best and worst feelings I’ve ever had. No one, not even the doubting part of me, can make me feel bad for loving passionately and hoping desperately that I could have that great love that I’ve read about in novels.
By the time I finish justifying my actions to myself, my subconscious has taken her hair down and closed her eyes, relieved that I’ve finally stopped beating myself up for the way that my emotions have been playing me.
“Tessa, I’m coming to Seattle. I won’t try and force you to live with me, but I want to be where you are. I’ll keep my distance until you’re ready for more, and I’ll play nice with everyone, even Vance.”
“That’s not the issue.” I sigh. His determination is admirable, but it’s never been consistent. He will get bored eventually and move on with his life. We are too far gone this time.
“Like I said before, I will try to keep my distance, but I’m coming to Seattle. If you won’t help me decide on an apartment, I’ll have to choose it myself, but I’ll make sure you’ll like it, too.”
He doesn’t need to know my plans. I use my thoughts to drown out his words. If I hear them, if I really listen to them, they will break down the barrier I’ve built. The surface split open only an hour ago, and I let my emotions control my body, but I can’t let that happen again.
HARDIN LEAVES THE ROOM after another ten minutes of me trying to ignore his promises, and I start packing my bag for Seattle. I’ve been going back and forth, traveling too much lately, and I look forward to the day when I finally have a place to call home. I need the security, I need the stability.
How is it that I spent my entire life planning for stability only to be out in the world swaying along with no base to call my own, no safety net, nothing at all?
When I reach the bottom of the stairs, Landon is leaning against the wall, and he stops me with a gentle hand on my arm. “Hey, I wanted to talk to you before you leave.”
I stand in front of him and wait for him to speak. I hope he’s not changing his mind on letting me tag along to New York.
“I just wanted to check with you and see if you’ve changed your mind about coming with me to NYU. If you did, that’s okay. I just need to know so I can tell Ken about the flight arrangements.”
“No, I’m still coming. I just need to go to Seattle and say goodbye to Kim and—” I want to tell him about my appointment, but I don’t think I’m ready to face that just yet. Nothing is certain, but I’d rather not think about it just yet.
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel like you have to go, I’ll understand if you want to stay here, with him.” Landon’s voice is so kind, so understanding, that I can’t help but throw my arms around his shoulders.
“You are amazing; you know that, right?” I smile up at him. “I haven’t changed my mind. I want to do this; I have to do this for myself.”
“When are you going to tell him? What do you think he will do?”
I haven’t put much thought into what Hardin will do when I tell him my plans to move across the country. I don’t have time to let Hardin’s opinion shape my plans, not anymore.
“I honestly don’t know how he will react. Up until my father’s funeral, I don’t think he would have cared one bit.”
Landon nods noncommittally. Then noises from the kitchen break our silence, and I’m reminded that I haven’t congra
tulated him on the news.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that your mother is pregnant!” I exclaim, thankful for the easy subject change.
“I know, I’m sorry. She just told me, and you’ve been keeping yourself locked in that room.” He smiles, gently teasing me.
“Are you sad that you’re leaving now with a baby sibling on the way?” I briefly wonder if Landon likes being an only child. We have only discussed it a few times, but he always avoids talking about his father, so the attention was quickly directed back to me each time.
“A little. I’m just worried how my mom will handle the pregnancy alone. And I’ll miss her and Ken, but I’m ready for this.” He smiles at me. “I think I am, at least.”
I nod with assurance. “We will be fine. Especially you; you’ve already been accepted. I’m moving there without knowing if I will even get in. I’ll just be floating around New York without being enrolled, and I’ll have no job and—”
Landon’s hand covers my mouth, and he laughs. “I feel that same panic when I think about the change, but I force myself to focus on the positives.”
“Which are?” I mumble against his hand.
“Well, it’s New York. That’s all I’ve gotten so far,” he admits with a deep laugh, and I find myself smiling from ear to ear as Karen joins us in the hallway.
“I’ll miss that sound when you two leave,” she says, her eyes shining under the lights.
Ken walks up behind her and places a kiss on the back of her head. “We all will.”
chapter forty-six
HARDIN
When I answer the knock at my door, I don’t bother trying to hide my disappointment when I’m greeted with Ken’s awkward smile instead of the girl I want.
He stands there, clearly waiting for permission to enter. “I wanted to talk to you about the baby,” he says tentatively.
I knew this was coming, and much to my disappointment, there is no way to avoid this shit. “Come in, then.” I move out of his way, sitting down in the chair next to the desk. I have no fucking clue what he’s going to say, or what I’m going to say, or how this will end up, but I can’t see it going well.
Ken doesn’t sit down. He just stands by the dresser with his hands shoved into the pockets of his gray dress slacks. The fact that the gray matches the stripes on his tie and he’s wearing a black sweater vest just screams, I’m the chancellor at an accredited university! But looking past that, I see the worry in his brown eyes and how his brows are knitted together. He’s fumbling with his hands in such a pathetic way that I just want to put him out of his misery.
“I’m fine. I know you probably assumed I’d be breaking shit and throwing a tantrum, but, honestly, I don’t care if you’re having a baby,” I finally say.
He sighs, not looking relieved as I had sort of hoped he would. “It’s okay if you are a little upset about it. I know it’s unexpected, and I know how you feel about me. I just hope this doesn’t make your ill feelings toward me grow.” He looks down at the floor, and I find myself wishing Tessa were here next to me, instead of wherever with Karen. I need to see her before she leaves. I promised to give her space, but I didn’t expect this father-son moment to be thrown at me.
“You know nothing of how I feel about you.” Hell, I don’t think I even know how I feel about him.
His patience with me is never ending as he says, “I hope this doesn’t change or take away from any of the progress we’ve made. I know I have a lot to make up for, but I really hope you’ll allow me to keep trying.”
When I hear that, I feel a kinship between us that I hadn’t before. We are both fuck-ups; both of us have been led by stupid decisions and addictions, and I’m pissed that I got this trait from being raised by him. If Vance had raised me, I wouldn’t be this way. I wouldn’t be so fucked-up inside. I wouldn’t have been afraid of my dad’s coming home drunk, and I wouldn’t have sat on the floor with my mum for hours while she wept and bled and struggled to stay conscious after the beating she endured because of his mistakes.
Anger simmers inside me, humming in my veins, and I’m two breaths away from calling for Tessa. I need her at times like this—well, I need her always—but especially now. I need her soft voice to speak encouraging words. I need her light to push against the shadows inside my mind.
“I want you to be a part of the baby’s life, Hardin. I think this could be a really good thing for all of us.”
“Us?” I scoff.
“Yes, all of us. You’re a part of this family. When I married Karen and took on the role of Landon’s father, I know you felt like I was forgetting about you, and I don’t want you to feel this way because of the baby.”
“Forgetting me? You forgot about me long before you married Karen.” But I don’t get the same thrill out of throwing shit into his face now that I know the truth about his past with my mum and Christian. I feel for him and the shit those two pulled, but at the same time I’m fucking pissed at him for being such a shitty father up until this last year. Even if he wasn’t my biological dad, he was in charge of taking care of us—he accepted that role and then just gave it up to drink.
So I can’t help myself. I should, but the anger is buzzing in me, and I need to know. I have to know why he would attempt to make amends with me if he isn’t completely positive that he’s my father.
“When did you know that my mum was fucking Vance behind your back?” I ask, releasing the words like a grenade.
All the air leaves the room, and Ken looks as if he will pass out any second.
“How . . .” He stops and rubs a hand across the stubble on his chin. “Who told you that?”
“Cut the shit. I know all about them. That’s what happened in London. I caught them together. He had her on the kitchen counter.”
“Oh God,” he says, his voice strangled and his chest heaving. “Before or after the wedding?”
“Before, but she still got married anyway. Why did you stay with her if you knew she wanted him?”
He takes a few breaths and looks around the room. Then he shrugs. “I loved her.” He looks me in the eyes, naked honesty seeming to remove any distance between us. “I don’t have a reason aside from that. I loved her, and I loved you, and I kept hoping that one day she would stop loving him. That day never came . . . and it was eating me alive. I knew what she was doing and what he—my best friend—was doing, but I had so much hope for us, and I thought she would eventually choose me.”
“She didn’t,” I note. She may have chosen to marry him and spend her life with him, but she didn’t choose him in any way that mattered.
“Clearly. And I should have given up long before I turned to alcohol.” The shame in his eyes is humbling.
“Yeah, you should have.” Everything would be so different if he had.
“I know you don’t understand it, and I know that my poor choices and false hopes ruined your childhood for you, so I don’t expect your forgiveness or understanding.” He puts his hands together as if he were praying and covers his mouth with them.
I stay silent because I can’t think of anything to say. My mind is reeling with horrid memories and the reality of how fucked all three of my . . . parentlike figures are. I don’t even know what to call them.
“I suppose I felt like she would see that he couldn’t offer her the stability that I could. I had a good job, and I wasn’t as much of a flight risk as Christian was.” He pauses, and with his deep breath his vest tightens on his chest and he looks at me. “I reckon if Tessa marries another man, this is how he will feel. He will always be competing with you, and even when you leave her for the hundredth time, he will be competing with the memory of you.” He’s confident in what he’s saying, I can tell by his tone and by the way he’s looking me square in the eyes.
“I’m not leaving her again,” I say through gritted teeth. My fingers are clenching the edge of the desk.
“He said that, too.” He sighs and leans back against the dresser.
> “I’m not him.”
“I know you aren’t. I’m in no way saying that you are Christian or that Tessa is like your mum. Lucky for you, it’s only you that Tessa sees. If your mum wouldn’t have fought her feelings for him, they could have been happy together; instead they allowed their toxic relationship to ruin the lives of everyone around them.” Ken brushes his hand over his facial hair again. An annoying habit.
Catherine and Heathcliff come to my mind, and I want to vomit at the easy comparison. Tessa and I may be a huge fucking disaster like the two characters, but I won’t allow us to suffer the same fate.
But none of what Ken is saying makes sense to me. Why would he put up with so much shit from me if he had the slightest inkling that I wasn’t his problem to begin with?
“So it’s true, then? He’s your father, isn’t he?” he asks as if losing some vital force that had been animating him. The strong, scary man from my childhood has disappeared and been replaced by a heartbroken man on the verge of tears.
I want to tell him that he’s a damn idiot for putting up with this shit from me, that my mum and I can’t forget the hell he made my life as a child. It’s his fault that I side with the demons and fight against the angels—it’s his fault that I have a special place in hell and am not welcomed in heaven. It’s his fault that Tessa won’t be with me. It’s his fault that I hurt her too many times to count, and it’s his fault that I’m just now trying to fix twenty-one years of mistakes.
When instead of all that I don’t say anything, Ken lets out a breath. “I knew from the first time I saw you that you were his.”
His words nearly knock the wind from my chest along with the angry thoughts in my mind.
“I knew it.” He’s trying not to cry, but failing. I cringe and look away from the tears on his cheeks. “I knew. How could I not have? You looked just like him, and as each year passed, your mum would cry a little harder, she would sneak off with him a little more. I knew. I didn’t want to admit it because you were all that I had. I didn’t have your mum; I never really did. Since I met her, she was his. You were all I had, and as I allowed my anger to take over, I ruined that, too.” He stops to catch his breath, and I sit in confused silence. “You would have been better off with him, I know you would have been, but I loved you—I still love you as if you are my own flesh—and I can only hope that you will let me stay in your life.”