AFTER THERE'S YOU // ZESSA

Chapter 18: Cut

"Har- Hardin," I mumble, too shocked to move from the bed. He approaches slowly, smiling down at me.

"I heard you were here, and I had to come see you. You know, since you've been avoiding me for almost an entire fucking month," he says, his voice shaking slightly as he sits next to me on the bed.

My eyes glance to the phone in my hand, and before I can react, Hardin yanks it away.

"I don't want any distractions," he says calmly, placing the phone in his leather jacket pocket.

He doesn't look as angry as I'd expect. His face is smooth, eyes sincere.

"Hardin, can I please have my phone back," I say, reaching for his pocket. He grabs my wrist quickly, careful not to squeeze too hard, and places my hand in his lap.

"After we talk," he demands, glaring into my eyes, his lips a hard, serious line.

"Fine..." I whisper, wanting to get this over with. I know I'd never be able to wrestle the phone away from him and the music is too loud for anyone to hear me call for help.

"Thank you, Theresa," he says, his face unchanged as he runs a hand through his hair.

"What do you want Hardin," I fume, looking away from him, letting my hand go limp in his.

"I want you to come back," he mumbles softly. I still can't bring myself to look at his face.

"Yeah, well I wanted you to come back in the past, too. But I don't want it anymore. I don't want to repeat the same old charade with you every other week," I reply, my voice strong and eyes still fixated on the floor.

"I don't believe that," he says, clasping the side of my face and turning it slowly to his.

I finally look at him and see that familiar face Hardin gives when he wants to apologize. When he wants another chance. It's soft eyes, lips almost quivering as if he could cry, and the traditional touch of my cheek. But I know deep down, we will just end up back here again. With him apologizing yet again or asking for another chance after the numerous other's I've given him.

"Hardin, believe me when I say that I love you. I want the best for you. I want that amazing person I've seen deep down inside of you to come out and solve all our problems, and we live happily ever after. But that person never lasts. I'm not sure they even exist. You need help – serious help – that I can't give you," I say frustrated, feeling my eyebrows furrow as I bring a hand to my forehead, trying to smooth the lines.

"I'll be better, Tessa. Please. I can't function without you. You don't know how hard it's been for me," he mutters, leaning in.

"Oh. I don't know how hard it's been. I lost my job Hardin! I lost Landon, and Karen, and Ken! I had to move out of the apartment, our apartment, and find somewhere else to go in a couple of hours because of you! Oh, and I lost you! I had nothing, so don't tell me I don't know what it's like," I yell, yanking my hand from his and standing from the bed.

"I'm sorry, Tessa!" he says, grabbing at my arm, stopping me from storming out of the room.

"So now I'm Tessa? I thought I was a whore. Or a bitch!" I scream, tears pooling in my eyes, threatening to spill over, while I try to tug my arm from his grasp.

"I didn't mean that" he says, tightening his grip, "I only said that because you were with Zed! Fucking Zed who only wants you because you are mine, Tessa!"

"I am not yours, Hardin!" I seethe, finally yanking my arm free. I can feel it throbbing as pull away from him but am only focused on leaving this conversation.

"Wait," he fumes, blocking the door.

"Move, Hardin. I'm done with this. I'm done with you and your excuses. Go to a fucking AA meeting or see a therapist or I don't care what! But leave. Me. Alone!" I scream, shaking as the tears fall down my face.

"I thought you loved me," he says, his voice cracking as he grabs my shoulders and stares deeply into my eyes. His lip trembles as a single tear falls from his eye and down his nose.

"That has nothing to do with this. This is about you and your problems. Please. Move. I want to go home," I say, my strong resolve crumbling as I cry into my hands.

"You love me, and I love you. We should be together," he replies, his voice harsh and pleading.

"I don't love you like that anymore!" I finally scream, shaking him off my shoulders and stepping back. I wipe the tears from my eyes, slightly shocked at my own confession.

"But, you just said – " he whispers, tilting his head.

"I will always love and care for you but I'm not in love with you anymore Hardin. I'm sorry, but not after you stole my virginity for a bet, or called me horrible names, or lied to me, or – or almost killed someone!" I yell, pulling at the hair on my scalp, almost ripping it out as my eyes squeeze shut. I can't believe I'm trapped in this room telling Hardin I don't want to be with him.

"This is about Zed isn't it," he yells, stomping toward me, "isn't it!"

I move back quickly, bumping into the desk behind me as Hardin brings his face within inches of mine. He's beet red and his eyes are wild and bloodshot.

"He's trying to steal you away from me, but I won't let him!" He quickly pulls his fist back, and I'm almost certain he's going to punch me. Wincing, his fist lands on the wall next to my head, punching a hole straight through.

"You're scaring me!" I say, pushing him back.

"You want to see scared, Theresa!" hey says, reaching behind me to grab an empty beer bottle on the desk. Moving a few steps back and winding up, he launches the beer bottle against the closet door, smashing it into a thousand pieces.

"Stop!" I scream, but he blocks the door. I run behind the twin bed in the middle of the room, trying to create some space between us. He picks up the desk chair and hurls it into the wall I was just in front of, snapping it into a wooden heap.

"Now are you scared?" he yells. He looks as if he's been possessed by the devil himself. Veins protrude from his forehead and neck, while sweat forms on his brow. He's crazed, storming around the room grabbing anything he can and smashing it.

Just as I make my escape, Hardin picks up the lamp on the desk. He throws it into the foot of the bed right as I start my run across the room. Trying to dodge the shards of glass that explode in front of me, I trip on a broken chair leg and fall. Stretching my arms out to catch myself, I land in the pile of glass.

The room goes silent, except for the sound of my heart beating in my ears and the bass of the music downstairs. I stand, looking down slowly to see a gash on the inside of my forearm. It runs from the inside of my left elbow all the way down to my wrist.

I can't focus on Hardin. I don't see him standing there, mouth open, just as shocked as I am. I don't see the door opening or hear him shouting for help.

All I see is the deep, red blood pouring out of my arm and dripping down my fingers, while my ears begin to ring. I can smell the meticallic scent of it filling the room, and it makes me gag. The blood gushes, spurting every couple of seconds across the bed in front of me – which probably isn't a good sign.

Suddenly, I see Steph running towards me, her hand grasping at the large cut on my arm. She looks flustered, her eyes wide with panic. I feel sick, I think I'm going to throw up. Where did Hardin go?

"It... stings..." I say, slurring my words and stumbling back a bit, trying to pull my arm away from her.

She only grips it tighter, yelling something I can't make out. I'm definitely going to puke. I look to find a trash can, but the world is spinning. The last thing I see is the bed coming quickly towards my face, as my vision goes black.