Chapter 87 (1/2)

I’m not even kind.

I can’t promise that I won’t hurt you again, but I can swear that I will love you until the day that I die. I’m a terrible person, and I don’t deserve you, but I hope that you’ll allow me the chance to restore your faith in me. I am sorry for all the pain I have caused you, and I understand if you can’t forgive me.

She did forgive me, though. She’s always forgiven me for my wrongs, but not this time. I was supposed to be restoring her faith in me, yet I continued to hurt her over and over again. My hands work quickly, tearing the pathetic confession into pieces. Falling, they swirl around before settling into a scattered pattern on the cold concrete.

See—I destroy everything! I know how much that damn thing meant to her, and I turned it into a pile of shit.

“No! No, no, no!” I scurry to the ground and frantically try to gather the pieces and restore the page. But there are too many little bits—none of them line up, and I keep dropping them back onto the floor and watching them float here and there. This must be how she felt trying to put me back together. I stand and kick my boot at the pile of scraps I’ve gathered before quickly bending down and picking them up again and putting them in a pile on the desk. Covering them with a book so they can’t blow away, I see I’ve grabbed Pride and Prejudice, of fucking course.

I lie back on the bed and wait for the sound of the door clicking open, signaling her return.

I must wait there for hours and hours, but the click never comes.

Chapter fifty-four

TESSA

I lie to Steph. I don’t want to tell anyone about my relationship problems, especially right now, when I haven’t had a chance to process what just happened. And that’s exactly why I called Steph: Landon is too close to the situation, and I don’t want to trouble him again. I have no other options, which is what happens when you have exactly one friend and they happen to be your boyfriend’s stepbrother.

Well, ex-boyfriend, now . . .

So when Steph sounds concerned on the phone, I tell her, “No, no. I’m fine. I just . . . Hardin is . . . he’s out of town with his father, and he locked me out, so I need somewhere to stay until he comes home Monday.”

“Sounds like Hardin,” she says, and I feel relieved that my lie has worked. “Okay, come on over. Same room as before—it’ll be just like old times!” she goes on cheerily, and I try to muster a little laugh.

Great. Old times.

“I’m supposed to be going to the mall with Tristan later, but you can hang out here if you want, or come along. It’s up to you.”

“I have a lot to do to get ready for Seattle, so I’ll just hang around the room, if that’s all right.”

“Sure, sure.” Then she adds, “I hope you’re ready for your party tomorrow night!”