Chapter 107 (1/2)

He’s managed to build this life around him, full of people who love and cherish him, while I’ve managed to destroy every relationship I thought I had. We fought and we battled, we won and we lost, and now my friendship with Landon has become just another casualty of Hardin and Tessa.

As soon as I’ve thought his name, like he’s some kind of genie I can summon, Hardin opens the door, strolling in calmly while he rubs a towel over his wet hair.

“What’s going on?” he asks. But as soon as he sees my state, the towel is quickly discarded, and he darts across the room to kneel before me.

I don’t try to mask my tears; I don’t see the point. “We are Catherine and Heathcliff,” I proclaim, devastated by the truth.

Hardin frowns. “What? What the hell happened?”

“We have made everyone around us miserable, and I don’t know if I just didn’t notice or I was too selfish to care, but it happened. Even Landon—even Landon has been affected by us.”

“Where is this coming from?” Hardin stands. “Did he fucking say something to you?”

“No.” I pull Hardin by the arm, begging him not to go downstairs. “He only said the truth. I see it now, I was just trying to force myself to see it, but now I get it.” I wipe my fingers under my eyes and take a breath to continue. “You aren’t the one who was ruining me; I did it myself. I changed, and you changed. But you changed for the better. I did not.”

Saying it out loud makes it easier to accept. I’m not perfect. I never will be. And that’s okay, but I can’t drag Hardin down with me. I have to fix what is wrong inside me—it isn’t fair to want that from Hardin without doing it myself.

He shakes his head, staring at me with those beautiful emerald eyes. “You’re talking crazy. None of this makes any sense.”

“Yes.” I stand and tuck my hair behind my ears. “It’s completely clear to me.”

I am trying to stay as calm as I can, but it’s hard, because he doesn’t get it and it’s so clear—how does he not get it?

“I need you to do something for me. I need you to promise me something right now,” I beg.

“What? Hell no, I’m not promising anything, Tessa—what the fuck are you going on about?” He reaches under my chin and gently lifts my head to him. His other hand wipes at the moisture covering my face.

“Please, promise me something. If we could ever have a chance of a future together, you have to do something for me.”

“Fine, fine,” he quickly agrees.

“I mean it, I am begging you, if you love me, you will listen to me and do this for me. If you can’t, we will never have a future, Hardin.”

I don’t mean the words as a threat. They are a plea. I need this from him. I need him to understand and to heal and to live his life while I try to fix mine.

He swallows; his eyes meet mine, and I know he doesn’t want to agree, but he says anyway, “Okay, I promise.”