Chapter 124 (1/2)

“Married? That’s an ancient idea you have there, Tessa.” He chuckles and sits down in the chair.

“What’s wrong with marriage?” I ask. “Not between us. Just in general,” I add.

He shrugs. “Nothing wrong with it, it’s just not for me.”

This has taken too serious a turn. I don’t want to discuss marriage with Hardin, but it does bother me that he says marriage isn’t for him. I haven’t ever thought about actually marrying him, it’s way too early for that. Years too early. But I would like the option eventually, and want to be married by the time I’m twenty-five and then have at least two children. I have my whole future planned.

Had, my subconscious reminds me. I had everything planned until I met Hardin and now my future is constantly changing and shifting.

“That bothers you, doesn’t it?” he asks, breaking my thoughts.

Hardin and I making love has tied an invisible string between us, uniting our bodies and minds. The changes in my plans are for the better . . . right?

“No.” I try to hide the emotion in my voice, but it comes out heavy. “I just have never heard anyone say flat-out they don’t want to get married. I thought that’s what everyone wants—that’s the central point of life, right?”

“Not exactly. I think people just want to be happy. Think of Catherine; look what marriage brought her and Heathcliff.”

I love that we speak the same narrative language. There is no one else who would speak in this way to me, the way that I understand the best.

“They didn’t marry each other—that was the problem,” I say with a laugh. I think back to the time when there had been so many parallels between my relationship with Hardin, and Catherine’s with Heathcliff.

“Rochester and Jane?” he suggests. Hardin’s mention of Jane Eyre pleasantly surprises me.

“You’re joking, right? He was cold and withholding. He also proposed to Jane without telling her that he was already married to that madwoman he had locked in the attic. You aren’t making very many valid points here,” I say.

“I know. I just love hearing you ramble about literary heroes.” He brushes the hair off his forehead, and in a childish moment, I stick my tongue out at him.

“So what you’re saying is that you want to marry me? I can promise you that I have no bat-crazy wife hidden in my house.” He takes a step toward me. There’s no wife, sure, but it’s the other things he hides that worries me.

My heart is beating out of my chest as he closes the gap between us. “What? No, of course not. I was just speaking in terms of all marriage. Not us specifically.” I am naked and talking to Hardin about marriage. What the hell is happening in my life?

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t?”

“No, I wouldn’t. Well, I don’t know—why are we even discussing this?” I hide my face in his chest and feel him shake with amusement.