He stares down at his feet, and I can’t seem to look away from his face as he says, “I know you are. I’m sorry for being a jerk, but I had to say it.”
“Yeah, I understand.” He still doesn’t look at me. “It won’t be like this in New York, I promise. I just need some time. I’m so confused about everything in my life, and I can’t seem to make sense of anything.”
The feeling of not being wanted somewhere when you aren’t sure how to leave is one of the worst feelings. It’s so incredibly awkward, and you take a few seconds to try to assess the situation to make sure you aren’t just being paranoid. But when my best friend won’t look at me after telling me that I’m causing problems with his family, the only family I have, I know it’s true. Landon doesn’t want to talk to me right now, but he’s too nice to say it.
“New York.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “You don’t want me to come anymore, do you?”
“It’s not that. I just thought New York was going to be a fresh start for both of us, Tessa. Not just another place for you and Hardin to fight.”
“I get it.” I shrug and dig my fingernails into my palms to stop myself from crying. I do get it. I understand completely.
Landon doesn’t want me to go to New York with him. I didn’t have a solid plan anyway. I don’t have much money, or an acceptance letter to NYU yet, if ever. Until now I didn’t realize how ready I was to move to New York. I needed this, I needed to at least try to do something spontaneous and different, and I needed to jump out into the world and land on my own two feet.
“I’m sorry,” he says, lightly kicking at the leg of the chair to shift the focus from his words.
“It’s okay, I understand.” I force a smile at my best friend and manage to make it up the stairs before the tears flow freely down my cheeks.
In the guest room, the bed feels solid underneath me, holding me in place while my mistakes are laid out in front of my eyes.
I have been so selfish, and I haven’t even realized it until now. I have ruined so many relationships in the past eight months. I started college in love with my Noah, my childhood boyfriend, only to cheat on him, more than once, with Hardin.
I made friends with Steph, who betrayed me and tried to hurt me. I judged Molly when she wasn’t even the one I should have been worried about. I forced myself to believe that I could fit in at college—that this group of people were actually my friends, when in reality I was a joke to them.
I fought and fought to keep Hardin; I fought for his acceptance from the start. When he didn’t want me, I only wanted him more. I fought with my mother to defend Hardin; I fought with myself to defend Hardin; I fought with Hardin to defend Hardin.
I gave my virginity to him as part of a bet. I loved him and cherished that moment, and he was hiding his motives from me all along. Even after what he did, I stayed, and he always came back with an apology even bigger than the last. It wasn’t always him, though; while his mistakes held more depth, more pain, mine were just as frequent.
Out of pure selfishness, I used Zed to fill the void nearly every time Hardin left me. I kissed him, I spent time with him, I led him on. I held my friendship with him over Hardin’s head, knowingly continuing the game that the two of them had started all those months ago.
I have forgiven Hardin so many times, only to throw his mistakes back in his face. I always expected too much from him, and I never let him forget it. Hardin is a good man, despite his flaws—he’s such a good man and he deserves to be happy. He deserves everything. He deserves quiet days with a loving wife who doesn’t have to struggle to give him children. He doesn’t deserve games and bad memories. He shouldn’t have to try to live up to some ridiculous expectation I’ve set for him that is nearly impossible to meet.
I have been through hell and back in the last eight months, and now here I sit, on this bed, alone. I’ve spent my entire life planning and scheduling, organizing and anticipating, yet here I am with nothing but mascara-stained cheeks and broken plans. Not even broken—none of them ever had enough backing in the first place to end up broken. I don’t have a clue where my life is headed. I don’t have a college to be in, a place to belong in, or even the romantic notion of love from the books I’ve always loved and used to believe in. I have no idea what the hell I’m doing with my life.
So many breakups, so many losses. I had my father come back into my life, only to be slain by his own demons. I’ve watched as Hardin’s entire life was revealed as a lie, and his mentor revealed as his biological father, whose long history with his mother drove the man who raised him to drink. His childhood was torment for nothing; he went through years of dealing with an alcoholic for a father, and he witnessed things as a child that no one should ever have to. I have watched from the beginning Hardin’s attempts to reconnect with Ken, from my first meeting the man outside a yogurt shop to becoming part of this family and watching as Hardin struggled to forgive him his mistakes. He’s learning to accept his past and forgive Ken, and it’s incredible to see. He has been so angry his entire life, and now that he’s finally getting some peace in his life, I can see this for what it is. Hardin needs this peace. He needs resolve. He doesn’t need constant backtracking and constant turmoil. He doesn’t need doubts and arguments; he needs family.
He needs his friendship with Landon and his relationship with his father. He needs to accept his place in his family and be able to enjoy the thrill of watching his family expand. He needs Christmas dinners full of love and laughter, not tears and tension. I’ve watched him change so much since the day I met the rude, tattooed boy with the piercings and the messiest hair I had ever seen. He’s not that boy anymore; he’s a man now, a man recovering. He doesn’t drink the way he used to. He doesn’t break things as often. And he stopped himself from hurting Landon.