Chapter 166 (1/2)

The pain in his expression gives me the most painful satisfaction.

“You ruined everything!” I scream. “You took something from me that wasn’t yours, Hardin. That was meant for someone who loved me, loved me truthfully. It was his, whoever he is, and you took that—for money? I ruined my relationship with my mother for you. I gave up everything! I had someone who loved me, someone who wouldn’t hurt me the way you did. You are disgusting.”

“I do love you, Tessa. I love you more than anything. I was going to tell you. I tried to get them not to tell you. I never wanted you to find out. That’s why I was out all night, getting them to agree not to say anything. I was going to tell you soon, now that we live together, because then it wouldn’t matter.”

I have no control over the words tumbling from my lips. “Are you . . . you . . . oh my God, Hardin! What the hell is wrong with you? You think going around convincing people to not tell me is okay? The fact that I wouldn’t know would make it all okay? You thought that if we lived together, I would let this go? That’s why you were so determined for my name to be on the lease! Oh my God. You are sick!”

Every small detail that made me think twice since I met Hardin all points to this. It was so obvious. “That’s why you went and got my stuff for me from my room, because you were afraid Steph would tell me!”

Everyone in the bar is staring and I feel so small, so broken and small.

“What did you do with the money, Hardin?”

“I—” he begins, then stops.

“Tell me,” I demand.

“Your car . . . the paint . . . and the deposit for the apartment. I thought if I . . . I was going to tell you so many times, once I knew it wasn’t just a bet anymore. I love you—I loved you the entire time, I swear it,” he says.

“You kept the condom to show them, Hardin! You showed them the sheets, the bloody fucking sheets!” I wrap my hands in my hair and tug at it. “Oh my God! I’m such an idiot. While I was reliving every detail of the best night of my life, you were showing your friends the sheets.”

“I know . . . I don’t have any excuse . . . but you have to forgive me. We can figure this out,” he says.

And I laugh. A real laugh. Despite my tears, I find myself laughing; I’m losing my mind. This scene isn’t playing out like in the movies. I’m not holding myself together. I’m not handling the news elegantly with a simple gasp or a single tear trailing down my cheek. I am crying, pulling at my own hair, and am barely able to control my emotions and form a full sentence.

“Forgive you?” I laugh madly. “You have ruined my entire life—you know that, don’t you? Oh, of course you do. That was your plan the entire time, remember? You promised you would ‘ruin me.’ So congratulations, Hardin, you have. What should I give you, money? Or should I find another virgin for you?”

He shifts a little, as if to block out my view of the others at the table. “Tessa, please. You know I love you, I know you do. Let’s go home, please, and I will tell you everything.”

“Home? That isn’t my home. It never has been; we both know that.” I try for the door again. I am so close.

“What can I do? I’ll do anything,” he begs. With his eyes still focused on mine, he bends down. I’m confused for a second before I realize he is getting on his knees in front of me.