After We Collided (The After Series) (54 page)

BOOK: After We Collided (The After Series)
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“Okay then . . .”

“Okay then,” he echoes back and then looks behind me.

My mum walks into the kitchen with her robe wrapped tight around her and her hair in a mess on her head. “What are you doing up, Hardin? Are you going back home?” she asks.

“No, I couldn’t sleep. And
this
is home,” I tell her and take another drink of coffee. This is my home.

“Hmm . . .” she sleepily replies.

chapter
eighty-six
TESSA

I
’m getting sucked back in, back under. The memories that I shared with Hardin tug at my feet, attempting to pull me under the water.

I roll the windows down in an attempt to get some air. Zed is so sweet to me, he’s understanding and kind. He’s dealt with a lot for me and I’ve always brushed him aside. If I could just stop being foolish, I could try with him. I can’t even imagine being in a relationship right now, or really anytime soon. But maybe with time I could. I don’t want Zed to break up with Rebecca because of me if I can’t give him an answer, or even a hint of an answer.

As I drive back to Landon’s house, I’m more confused than ever.

If I could just talk to Hardin, just see him once more, I could get closure. If I could hear him say that he doesn’t care, if he would be cruel to me just one last time, I could give Zed the chance, give myself the chance.

Before I can stop myself, I grab my phone and press the button that I’ve been avoiding since day four. If he ignores me, I can move on. We are officially over if he doesn’t answer my call. If he tells me that he’s sorry and that we can work on it . . . no. I put the phone back on the seat. I’ve come too far to call him again, to break down again.

But I need to know.

The line goes straight to voicemail. “Hardin . . .” The words leave my lips at a frantic rate. “Hardin . . . it’s Tessa. I . . . well, I
need to talk to you. I’m in my car and I’m so confused . . .” I begin to cry. “Why haven’t you even tried to contact me? You just let me leave, and here I am pathetically calling you and crying into your voicemail. I need to know what happened to us. Why was this time different—why didn’t we fight it out? Why didn’t you fight for me? I deserve to be happy, Hardin,” I sob and hang the phone up.

Why did I just do that? Why did I break down and call him? I’m such an idiot—he’s probably going to listen to it and laugh. He’ll probably let whatever girl he’s hooking up with listen to the message, and they’ll laugh and laugh at my expense. I pull into a deserted parking lot to gather my thoughts before getting into another accident.

I stare at the phone and breathe in and out in order to stop crying. Twenty minutes go by and he still hasn’t returned my call, or even texted me.

Why am I sitting in a parking lot at ten at night crying and calling him? I’ve fought myself for the last nine days to get myself to be strong, yet here I am falling apart, again. I can’t let this happen. I pull out of the parking lot and drive back to Zed’s apartment. Hardin is obviously too busy to be bothered with me, and Zed is here, honest and always here for me. I park next to his truck and take a deep breath. I have to think of myself first and what I want.

As I race up the stairs to Zed’s door, I’m at peace with myself.

I bang on the door, shifting back and forth waiting for it to open. What if I’m too late and he doesn’t answer the door? I’ll get what I deserve, I suppose. I should’ve known better than to kiss him in the middle of all of this.

When the door opens I nearly stop breathing. Zed is wearing only black gym shorts, his inked chest exposed.

“Tessa?” He gapes, clearly surprised.

“I . . . I don’t know what I can give you, but I want to try,” I tell him.

He runs his hand over his black hair and takes a deep breath. He’s going to reject me, I know it.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come . . .” I can’t handle any more rejection.

I turn toward the stairs and take two at a time before a hand hooks my arm and Zed turns me around to face him.

He doesn’t say anything at all; he just takes my hand in his and leads me back up the stairs and inside his apartment.

Zed is calm, so quiet and understanding as we sit on his couch, him on one side and me on the other. He’s completely different from what I’m used to with Hardin. When I don’t want to talk, he doesn’t push me to talk. When I can’t think of an explanation for my actions, he doesn’t call me out. And when I tell him that I’m not comfortable sleeping in his bed with him, he brings me the softest blanket and a somewhat clean pillow and lays them on his couch.

THE NEXT MORNING
when I wake up, my neck is killing me. Zed’s old couch isn’t the most comfortable, but I slept well, considering.

“Hey,” he says when he walks into the living room.

“Hey.” I smile.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asks me, and I nod.

Zed was incredible last night. He didn’t even blink when I asked to sleep on the couch. He listened to me talk about Hardin and how it had all gone wrong. He told me how he cares for Rebecca but now doesn’t know what to do because he’s always thought about me, even after meeting her. I felt guilty for the first hour while crying to him, but as the night went on, the tears turned to smiles, which shifted to laughs. My stomach literally hurt from laughing about stupid memories from our childhoods by the time we decided to go to bed.

It’s nearly two in the afternoon now, the latest I think I’ve
ever slept, but that’s what happens when you stay up until seven in the morning.

“Yes; you?” I stand and fold the blanket he lent me. I vaguely remember him draping it over me while I drifted off to sleep.

“Same.” He grins and sits on the couch. His hair is wet, and his skin is glistening like he just got out of the shower.

“Where should I put this?” I ask him, referring to the blanket.

“Wherever; you didn’t have to fold it.” He laughs.

My mind goes to the closet in the apartment and how Hardin shoves random things in there just to drive me insane.

“Do you have anything going on today?” I ask him.

“I worked this morning, so no.”

“Already?”

“Yeah, from nine to noon.” He smiles. “I basically only went in to fix my truck.”

I forgot that Zed works as a mechanic. I don’t really know much about him at all. Except that he has pretty good stamina if he can sleep two hours and then work like that.

“Environmental studies prodigy by day, grease monkey by night?” I tease, and he chuckles.

“Something like that; what are your plans?”

“I don’t know. I need to get something to wear to my boss’s dinner party tomorrow.” For a moment I think about asking Zed to come along, but that would be wrong. I’d never do that; it would make everyone uncomfortable, including myself.

Zed and I had come to an agreement that we weren’t going to push anything. We’re just going to spend time together and see where it goes. He isn’t going to push me to move on from Hardin; we both know that I need more time before I can consider dating anyone. I have too much to figure out—like finding somewhere to live, for starters.

“I can come along if you want? Or maybe we could see a movie later?” he asks nervously.

“Yeah, either one is fine.” I smile and check my phone.

No missed calls. No text messages. No voicemails.

Zed and I end up ordering pizza and hanging out for the majority of the day until I finally leave to go back to Landon’s to take a shower. On my way back I stop by the mall right before it closes and happen upon the perfect red dress with a square neckline; it rests just above my knees. It’s not too conservative but not too revealing either.

By the time I get back to Landon’s, there is a note on the counter next to a plate of food that Karen put aside for me. Her and Ken went to a movie and will be back soon, it says.

I’m relieved to have the place to myself even though when they’re there, I don’t really notice because the house is so large. I take a shower and put on pajamas before lying down and forcing myself to catch up on my sleep.

My dreams shift back and forth between green- and golden-eyed boys.

chapter
eighty-seven
TESSA

E
leven days. It’s been eleven days since I’ve heard from Hardin, and it hasn’t been easy.

But Zed’s company has surely helped.

Tonight is the dinner party at Christian’s, and all day I’ve become increasingly afraid that being around the familiar faces there will remind me of Hardin and knock at the walls that I’ve been building. All it will take is one small crack and I’ll no longer be protected.

Finally, when it’s time to go, I take a deep breath and check myself one last time in the mirror. My hair is the same way it always is, down and curled in loose waves, but my makeup is darker than usual. I slide Hardin’s bracelet over my wrist; even though I know I shouldn’t be wearing it, I feel naked without it. It’s such a part of me now, the way he is . . . was. The dress looks even better today than it did yesterday, and I’m grateful that I’ve gained back the few pounds that I lost during the first few days of barely eating.

“I just want it back the way it was before. And I just want to see you back at my front door . . .”
The music plays as I grab my small clutch purse. After one more beat, I pull the buds out of my ears and place them inside.

When I meet Karen and Ken downstairs, they’re dressed to a T. Karen is in a long blue-and-white-patterned gown, and Ken is wearing a suit and tie.

“You look so lovely,” I say to her, and her cheeks flush.

“Thank you, dear, so do you.” She beams.

She is so sweet. I’m going to miss seeing her and Ken so often when I have to leave.

“I was thinking that sometime this week we could go out to the greenhouse and work a little?” she asks me as we walk to the car, my nude heels clanking loudly on the concrete driveway.

“I would love to,” I tell her and climb into the back of their Volvo.

“This will be so much fun. We haven’t been to a party like this in a while.” Karen takes Ken’s hand in hers and places it on her lap as he pulls out of the driveway.

Their affection doesn’t make me envious, it reminds me that people can actually be good to each other.

“Landon will be home from New York late tonight. I’ll be picking him up at two a.m.,” Karen says excitedly.

“I can’t wait for him to be back,” I say. And I really mean it—I’ve missed my best friend, his words of wisdom, and his warm smile.

CHRISTIAN VANCE’S HOUSE
is exactly how I had imagined it would be. Extremely modern in style, the entire structure is nearly transparent, beams and glass appearing to be the only things securing it to the hill. Every decoration and detail is styled to blend into a perfect theme throughout the entire interior. It’s amazing, and reminds me of a museum in the way that nothing in it looks like it’s even been touched before.

Kimberly greets us at the front door. “Thank you guys so much for coming,” she says, pulling me into her arms.

“Thank you for inviting us.” Ken shakes Christian’s hand. “Congratulations on the big move.”

I lose my breath at the sight of the water just out the back windows. Now I understand why most of the house is glass—the
house sits on a large lake. The water outside seems endless, and the setting sun makes the whole panorama even more breathtaking as it reflects off the lake, nearly blinding me. That the house is on a hill and the yard is slightly sloped creates the illusion that you’re floating on top of the water.

“Everyone’s in here.” Kimberly leads us to their dining room, which, like the rest of the house, is perfect.

None of this is my style—I prefer more old-fashioned decor—but Vance’s place really is exquisite. Two elongated, rectangular dinner tables fill the space, each full of multicolored flowers and small bowls with floating candles inside for each place setting. The napkins are folded into the shape of flowers, a silver ring holding them in place. It’s beautiful. So elegant and colorful, it looks like something straight from a magazine. Kimberly really has gone all out for this party.

Trevor is sitting at the table closest to the window along with a few other faces I recognize from the office, including Crystal from marketing and her soon-to-be husband. Smith is seated two chairs down and has his face buried in some sort of handheld video game.

“You look beautiful.” Trevor smiles at me and rises from his seat to greet Ken and Karen.

“Thank you. How are you?” I ask.

His tie is the exact same shade of blue as his eyes, which are bright and beaming. “Great, ready for the big move!”

“I bet!” I say, but am really thinking,
If only I were able to move to Seattle now . . .

“Trevor, it’s nice to see you.” Ken shakes his hand, and I look down when I feel a slight tug at my dress.

“Hi, Smith, how are you?” I ask the little boy with shining green eyes.

“Okay.” He shrugs. Then, in a quiet voice, he asks, “Where’s your Hardin?”

I don’t know what else to say, and the way Smith called him “my Hardin” stirs something in me. The stone wall is already beginning to chip away, and I’ve only been here for ten minutes. “He’s, um . . . he’s not here right now.”

“He’s coming, though?”

“No, I’m sorry. I don’t think he is, honey.”

“Oh.”

It’s a terrible lie and one that anyone who knows Hardin would see through, but I tell the little guy, “But he did say to tell you hello,” and I ruffle his hair a little. Now Hardin has me lying to children. Great.

Smith half smiles and sits back down at the table. “Okay. I like your Hardin.”

Me, too
, I want to tell him,
but he’s not mine.

Within fifteen minutes, twenty more people arrive, and Christian has turned on his super-high-tech stereo system. With only a click of a button, a soft piano melody spreads through the house. Young men in white-collared shirts begin to circle the room with trays of appetizers, and I help myself to something that looks like a small piece of bread topped with tomatoes and sauce.

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