Chapter 43

2.7K 39 4
                                    

Tessa's POV:

Even though she was unable to bear children of her own, she couldn't let go of the dream of them. He knew that, and he loved her even so. He tried his hardest not to be selfish, but he couldn't help thinking about the little
versions of him that she stole from him, couldn't give to him. He felt for her more than himself, but he couldn't help but cry over their loss many more nights than he could remember.

Just as I decide I cannot take any more, the front door opens and Hardin walks in. His eyes go directly to mess of white paper printed with disgusting black words, and his phone falls to the floor, joining the chaos.

As he as take small steps ahead,
I'm standing there patiently for him to give me explanation, while my mind, life, is flip upside down. But he's just standing still, giving me nothing to clarify. Enough of that.

"What is this?" My eyes moves across a page before I tossed it into the air with one hand and crumple the corners of the small stack left in my grasp.

"Tessa." I take step towards me.

"Do not take another step toward me," guarded look, I step back, taking a distant for him.

"I need you to listen to me," he begs.

"Oh, I'm listening, all right." Sarcastically I say, loud enough for him to hear.

"I don't know where to start; just give me a minute and I'll explain." His fingers run over his hair and tug at the roots. I look down at the paper in my hand.

His Elizabeth ran back to him after he threw a little money around, just the way Darcy's did.

Looking up, I raise my brows at him. Really? He thinks that. That I'm for his money and the advantages coming from them. I'm disgust by him, really I'm.

"Stop reading it." Taking a step, he grab the manuscript from my hands. The pages fall to the floor, joining the other nonsense pooling at my feet.

"Explain it. Now," I urge with wide eyes open.

"Okay, okay." He shifts on his heels. "Okay, I have been writing."

"How long?" I step toward him. And he backs away, afraid of me and my actions might happens.

"A long time." He avoids the truth.

"You'll tell me, and you'll tell me now." I raise my voice.

"Tess-"

"Don't Tess me, motherfucker. I'm not the same little girl you met a year ago. You're going to tell me now or you'll get the hell out of here." I purposely steps on a page beneath me. "Well, I can't kick you out, because it's Landon's place, but I will leave if you don't explain this shit. Now," I adds, showing that, despite my anger and harsh words, I'm still sweet.

"I've been writing for a long time, since the very beginning of us, but I didn't have any intention of doing anything with it. I was only venting, using the paper to figure out what the fuck was going on in my head, but then I had this idea."

"When?" I press my fingers, forcefully, against his chest, jab at him.

"I started it after we kissed."

"The first time?" I ask, his expression tells me that I'm right. My hands spread, shoving his chest, and he wraps his fingers around them as they push against him again.
"You were playing me." I pull my hands from him and dig into my hair.

"No, I wasn't! It wasn't like that!" He says as I paces the small living room, fuming and whirling.

"He could barely stand the sound of her voice at two in the morning," I angrily mock his written words.

After 4 | ✓Where stories live. Discover now