I hear Hardin’s voice from the living room: “She can’t stay today, Mum. Her mother is expecting her.”
“Couldn’t we have her mom come here? I would love to meet her,” Trish responds.
Oh no.
“No, her mother is . . . not very fond of me,” he says.
“Why not?”
“She doesn’t think I’m good enough for Tessa, I guess. And maybe because of how I look.”
“How you look? Hardin, don’t you ever let anyone make you feel insecure. I thought you loved your . . . style?”
“I do. I mean, I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks. Except Tessa.”
As my mouth falls open, Trish laughs. “Who are you, and where is my boy?” Then, with real happiness in her voice, she says, “I can’t even remember the last conversation we had where you didn’t curse me out, it’s been years. This is nice.”
“Okay . . . okay . . .” Hardin groans and I giggle while imagining Trish trying to hug him.
AFTER MY SHOWER I decide to get myself all the way ready before leaving the bathroom. I’m a coward, I know, but I need a little more time before I put on a fake smile for Hardin’s mother. It’s not exactly a fake smile . . . And that’s part of the problem, my subconscious reminds me. I had a really nice time yesterday, and I slept better than I have all week.
Once my hair is curled to near perfection, I pack my toiletries back into my small bag. There’s a light tap on the door. “Tess?” Hardin asks.
“I’m finished,” I respond and open the door to find him leaning against the door, wearing long gray cotton shorts and a white T-shirt.
“Not to rush you or anything, but I really have to piss.”
He gives me a small smile and I nod. I try not to notice the way his shorts hang on his hips, making the cursive writing that’s inked onto his side even more visible under the white T-shirt.
“I’m going to get dressed, then be on my way,” I tell him.
He looks away, focusing on the wall. “Okay.”
I go to the bedroom, feeling terribly guilty about lying to his mother and leaving so soon. I know she was so excited to meet me, and here I am leaving on her second day.
Deciding on my white dress, I put on my old black tights underneath since it’s too cold without them. I probably should just put on jeans and a sweatshirt, but I love that the dress gives me a strange sense of confidence, which is something that I need today. I pack my clothes back into my bags and place the hangers back in the closet.
“Do you need some help?” Trish says from behind me. I jump, dropping the navy dress that I wore in Seattle.
“I was just . . .” I fumble.
Her eyes examine the half-empty closet. “How long are you planning on being at your mother’s?”
“Um . . . I . . .” I’m a really terrible liar.
“Looks like you’re going to be gone for a while.”
“Yeah . . . I don’t have many clothes,” I squeak.
“I was going to see if you wanted to do some shopping while I was here; maybe if you come back before I leave, we can go?”
I can’t tell if she believes me or if she suspects that I don’t ever plan on returning here. “Yeah . . . sure,” I lie again.
“Mum . . .” Hardin says in a low voice as he enters the room. I notice his frown as his eyes take in the empty closet, and hope that Trish isn’t observing her son the way that I am.
“Just finishing packing,” I explain, and he nods. I zip the last bag and look at him, completely unsure what I should say.
“I’ll take your bags down for you,” he says, grabbing my keys from the dresser and disappearing with my things.
As he leaves, Trish’s arms wrap around my shoulders. “I’m so glad that I got to meet you, Tessa. You have no idea what it means to me as a mother to see my only child this way.”
“What way?” I manage to ask.
“Happy,” she replies and my eyes begin to sting.
If this is happy Hardin to her, I don’t want to see her usual Hardin.
I say my final goodbye to Trish and prepare to leave the apartment for the last time.
“Tessa?” Hardin’s mother says plainly. I turn around to face her once more.
“You’ll come back to him, won’t you?” she asks, and my heart sinks. I get the feeling she means more than coming back after Christmas break.
I don’t trust my voice. So I just nod and quickly exit.
When I reach the elevator, I turn around and head to the stairs to avoid seeing Hardin. I wipe the corners of my eyes and take a deep breath before walking out into the snow. When I reach my car, I notice that the windshield has been cleared of snow and the engine is running.
I DECIDE NOT TO CALL my mother to tell her that I’m on my way. I don’t feel like talking to her right now. I want to use this two-hour drive to try to clear my head. I need to make a mental list of the pros and cons of being with Hardin again. I know how stupid I am for even entertaining the thought—he has done terrible things to me. He has lied to me, betrayed me, and humiliated me. So far, on the cons list we have the lies, the sheets, the condom, the bet, his temper, his friends, Molly, his ego, his attitude, and him destroying my trust.
On the pros list I have . . . well . . . I have the fact that I love him. That he makes me happy, makes me feel stronger, more confident. That he usually wants the best for me, unless, of course, he’s the one doing the damage in his reckless way . . . The way he laughs and smiles, the way he holds me, the way he kisses me, the way he hugs me, the way I can tell he is changing for me.