Chapter 150 (1/2)

“I won’t do it again . . . I swear . . . Just please tell me you won’t leave me . . .” he mutters.

Every ounce of anger and entitlement I felt has evaporated. “I won’t leave you, Hardin. I won’t leave you.” And because he looks at me like he needs to hear it, I say it a few more times.

“I love you, Tessa, more than anything,” he says and wipes my tears.

Chapter ninety-one

We haven’t moved from our spot in the chair for at least thirty minutes, when finally Hardin lifts his head from my chest and says, “Can I eat now?”

“Yes.” I give him a weak smile and start to climb off his lap, but he pulls me back.

“I didn’t say for you to move. Just slide my plate over.” He smiles.

I slide his plate over and reach for mine across the small table. I am still reeling from this new information and now I feel a little uneasy about going to the wedding in the morning.

Sensing Hardin doesn’t want to discuss his confession further, I take a bite off my plate and say, “You are a much better cook than I expected. Having shown your hand, I expect you’ll cook for me more often.”

“We will see,” he says with his mouth full and we eat the rest of the meal in a comfortable silence.

Later, when I’m loading the dishwasher, he walks up behind me and asks, “Are you still mad?”

“Not exactly,” I tell him. “I am still not happy about you being out all night, and I do want to know who you fought, and why.” He opens his mouth to speak, but I stop him. “But not tonight.” I don’t think either of us can handle any more tonight.

“Okay,” he says softly. Worry flashes in his eyes but I choose to let it go.

“Oh, and I didn’t appreciate you throwing my internship in my face, either. That really hurt my feelings.”

“I know. That’s why I said it,” he answers, a little too honestly.

“I know. That’s exactly why I don’t like it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do it again, okay?” I tell him and he nods. “I’m exhausted,” I groan in a small attempt to change the subject.

“Me, too; let’s lie down for the rest of the evening. I got the cable turned on.”

“I was supposed to be doing that.” I scowl at him.

He rolls his eyes and sits next to me on the bed. “You can just give me the money for it . . .”

I stare at the wall. “What time are we leaving here tomorrow for the wedding?”

“Whenever we feel like it.”