After We Fell (After 3) - Page 81/239

Landon sits next to her, spooning cereal into his mouth.

“I’ll get you some. Once we get the car packed up, we can head out. Ken is still in bed, though; he had trouble sleeping last night,” Karen says.

Tessa looks up at her but stays silent. I know she’s thinking, Did they all hear me screaming like a pathetic little bitch?

Karen walks over to open a drawer and grabs a couple of foil packets. I watch all three of them, waiting for someone to acknowledge me. No one does.

“I’m going to go pack; thank you so much for the Tylenol.” Tessa’s voice is soft as she stands up from her seat at the counter. She takes the medication quickly, and when she sets the glass of water back onto the counter, her eyes meet mine, but she quickly looks away.

It’s only been one night without her, and already I miss her so much. I can’t get the haunting images from my nightmare out of my mind, especially when she walks past me with no emotion at all. Nothing to let me know that I’ll be okay.

The dream felt so real, and she’s being so cold.

I stand still for a moment debating whether or not to follow her, but my feet decide for me as they scale the stairs. When I enter the room, she’s kneeling down, unzipping the suitcase.

“I’m just going to pack everything, then we can go,” she says without turning around.

I nod, then realize that she can’t see me. “Yeah, okay,” I mutter. I don’t know what she’s thinking, what she’s feeling, or what I should say. I’m fucking clueless, as usual.

“I’m sorry,” I say too damn loud.

“I know,” she replies quickly. Her back is still turned to me as she begins to refold my clothes from the dresser and floor.

“I really am. I didn’t mean what I said.” I need her to look at me so I can be reassured that my dream was just that.

“I know you didn’t. Don’t worry about it.” She sighs, and I notice the way her shoulders are slumped lower than before.

“Are you sure . . . I said some fucked-up shit.” You’re broken, Hardin, and I can’t fix you—that was the worst possible thing she could have said to me. She finally realizes how fucked up I am, and more importantly, she realizes that there’s no cure for what’s wrong with me. No one can fix me if it isn’t her.

“So did I. It’s fine. I have a really bad headache; can we talk about something else?”

“Of course.” I kick at a piece of the lamp I broke last night. I have to owe my father and Karen at least five fucking lamps by now.

I feel slightly guilty for snapping at Karen last night, but I don’t want to bring it up to her first, and she’s probably too polite and understanding to bring it up herself.

“Can you get your stuff from the bathroom, please?” Tessa asks.

The remainder of my time at that damn cabin is spent this way, watching Tessa as she packs our things and cleans up the broken lamp without another word to me, without really looking at me.

Chapter fifty-two

TESSA

I’m so thrilled that we got to see Max and Denise again—it’s been years!” Karen gushes as Ken starts the SUV. The bags have been placed securely in the back, and I borrowed Landon’s headphones to distract myself during the drive.

“It was nice. Lillian has grown so much.” Ken appeases Karen with a smile.

“She has. She’s such a beautiful girl.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes. Lillian was nice and all, but after spending hours under the impression that she was interested in Hardin, I’m not sure if I’ll ever care for the girl. I’m grateful that the chances of me seeing her again are slim to nonexistent.

“Max hasn’t changed over the years,” Ken remarks, his voice low and disapproving. At least I’m not the only one who doesn’t care for his arrogance and haughty attitude.

“Do you feel any better?” Landon turns around to ask me.

“Not really.” I sigh.

He nods. “You can sleep it off during the drive. Do you want a bottle of water?”

“I can get it,” Hardin interjects.

Ignoring him, Landon grabs a thing of water from the small cooler on the floor in front of his seat. I thank him quietly and push the earbuds into my ears. My phone freezes repeatedly, so I turn it off and on again, hoping it will work. This drive will be miserable if I can’t drown out the tension with music. I don’t know why I never did this before the “great depression,” when Landon had to show me how to download music.

I smile slightly at the ridiculous nickname I’ve given those long days without Hardin; I don’t know why I’m smiling, given that those were the worst few days of my life. I feel a similar sensation now. I know that time is coming again.

“What’s wrong?” Hardin leans down to speak into my ear, and on reflex I jerk away. He frowns and doesn’t make a move to touch me again.

“Nothing, my phone is just . . . it’s junk.” I hold the device in the air.

“What are you trying to do, exactly?”

“Listen to music and hopefully sleep,” I whisper.

He takes the phone from my hand and messes with the settings. “If you listened to me and got a new phone, this wouldn’t happen,” he scolds.

I bite my tongue and stare out the window while he attempts to fix my phone. I don’t want a new one, and I don’t really have the money to get one right now, anyway. I have an apartment to find, new furniture to buy, bills to pay. The last thing on my mind is paying hundreds of dollars for something I already paid money for recently.