Chapter 100 (1/2)

Hardin nods as if he knew exactly what my response would be. “Okay, so next to that, what is the worst thing I’ve done?”

“When you ruined that apartment for me in Seattle,” I answer easily.

“Really?” He sounds surprised by my response.

“Yes.”

“Why that? What was it about me doing that that pissed you off so bad?”

“The fact that you completely took control of a decision that was mine and you hid it from me.”

He nods, then shrugs. “I won’t try to justify that shit, because I know it was fucked-up.”

“Okay?” I hope he has more to say on that.

“I do understand where you are coming from with that. I shouldn’t have done that; I should have talked to you instead of trying to keep you from going to Seattle. I was fucked in the head at the time, still am, but I’m trying, and that’s something different than before.”

I’m unsure how to respond to that. I agree that he shouldn’t have done it, and I agree that he is trying now. I look into his very earnest, very brilliant green eyes, and it’s hard to remember what my point behind this entire conversation is supposed to be.

“You have this idea in your head, baby, an idea that someone planted there, or maybe you saw it on some shitty television show, or maybe in one of your books, I don’t know. But real life is fucking hard. No relationship is perfect, and no man is ever going to treat a woman exactly how he should.” He lifts a hand in the air to stop me from interrupting. “I’m not saying it’s right, okay? So hear me out: I’m only saying that I think if you and maybe some other people in this fucked-up, criticizing world would just pay closer attention to the shit behind the scenes, you would see things differently. We aren’t perfect, Tessa. I’m not fucking perfect, and I love you, but you are far from perfect, too.” He winces at that, letting me know that he means that in the least terrible way possible. “I have done a lot of shit to you, and, fuck, I’ve made this speech one thousand damn times, but something inside of me has changed—you know it’s true.”

When Hardin stops speaking, I stare into the sky behind him for a few seconds. The sun is setting just below the trees, and I wait for it to disappear before responding. “I’m afraid we are too far gone. We have both made so many mistakes.”

“It would be a waste to give up instead of fixing those mistakes, and you fucking know it.”

“A waste of what? Time? We don’t have much time to waste now,” I say, inching into the inevitable train wreck.