After We Collided (After 2)

But she just smiled. “I’m nearly twenty-one, and it doesn’t make sense to wait. I’ve been fortunate enough to find the person I want to spend my life with at a young age—why waste any more time when he’s right in front of me asking that I do just that. I’m honored that he wants to make me his wife; there’s no greater expression of love than that.” As she explained, I could hear Tessa’s voice saying the words instead.

“I guess you’re right,” I told her and she smiled.

“Oh, there he is! I have to go—I’m freezing and pregnant, not a good combination.” She laughed before picking her bags up off the sidewalk and greeting a man in a sweater vest and khakis. His smile when seeing his pregnant fiancée was so bright that I swore it lit up that dreary day in England.

Day seven was long. Every day has been long. I kept thinking of Natalie and her forgiveness; it couldn’t have come at a better time. Sure, I looked like hell and she knew it, but she was happy and in love. Pregnant, at that. I didn’t ruin her life the way I thought I had.

And I thank God for that.

I spent the whole day in bed. I couldn’t even bring myself to open the damned blinds. My mum and Mike were out all day, so I was left alone to sulk in my misery. Each day got worse. I constantly thought about what she was doing, who she was with. Was she crying? Was she lonely? Had she returned to our apartment to find me? Why hadn’t she called me again?

This isn’t the pain I had read about in novels. This pain isn’t just in my mind, this pain isn’t physical. This is a soul-aching pain, something that is ripping me apart from the inside out, and I don’t think I can survive it. No one could.

This must be how Tessa feels when I hurt her. I can’t imagine her fragile body withstanding this type of pain, but clearly she’s stronger than she appears. She has to be to put up with me. Her mum once told me that if I really cared about her I would leave her alone; I would hurt her anyway, she said.

She was right. I should have left her alone then. I should have left her alone from that first day she walked into that dorm room. I promised myself that I would rather die than hurt her again . . . this is what this is. This is dying, this is worse than dying. It hurts worse. It has to.

I spent day eight drinking, the entire day. I couldn’t stop. With each drink I prayed that her face would leave my mind, but it wouldn’t. It couldn’t.

You have to get your shit together, Hardin. You have to. I have to. I really do.

“Hardin . . .” Tessa’s voice sends chills down my spine.

“Babe . . .” she says.

When I look up at her, she’s sitting on my mum’s couch with a smile on her face and a book in her lap.

“Come here, please,” she whines as the door opens and a group of men step inside. No.

“There she is,” says the short man who torments my dreams each night.

“Hardin?” Tessa begins to cry.

“Get away from her,” I warn them as they close in on her. They don’t seem to hear me.

Her nightgown is ripped off as she’s thrown to the floor. Wrinkled and dirt-stained hands travel up her thighs as she whimpers my name.

“Please . . . Hardin, help me.” She looks to me, but I’m frozen.

I am immobile and unable to help her. I am forced to watch as they beat her and violate her until she’s lying on the floor silent and bloodied.

My mum didn’t wake me, no one did. I had to finish it, all of it, and when I woke up my reality was worse than any nightmare.

DAY NINE is today.

“Did you hear about Christian Vance moving to Seattle?” my mum asks me as I push the cereal around the bowl in front of me.

“Yeah.”

“That’s exciting, isn’t it? A new branch in Seattle.”

“I suppose it is.”

“He’s having a dinner party on Sunday. He thought you’d be there.”

“How do you know?” I ask her.

“He told me, we talk from time to time.” She looks away and refills her coffee mug.

“What for?”

“Because we can—now eat your cereal.” She scolds me like a child, but I don’t have the energy to come up with a snappy remark.

“I don’t want to go,” I tell her and force the spoon to my mouth.

“You may not see him again for a while.”

“So? I barely see him now anyway.”

She looks as if she has something else to say, but she keeps quiet.

“Have you got any aspirin?” I ask, and she nods before disappearing to retrieve some.

I don’t want to go to a stupid fucking dinner party celebrating Christian and Kimberly leaving for Seattle. I’m tired of everyone always talking about Seattle, and I know Tessa will be there. The pain at the idea of seeing her tackles me and nearly knocks me out of the chair. I have to stay away from her, I owe it to her. If I can stay here for a few more days, weeks even, we can both move on. She’ll find someone like Natalie’s fiancé, someone much better for her than me.

“I still think you should go,” my mum says again as I swallow the aspirin, knowing they won’t help.

“I can’t go, Mum . . . even if I wanted to. I would have to leave first thing in the morning and I’m not ready to leave.”

“You mean you aren’t ready to face what you left,” she says.

I can’t hold it in any longer. I bury my face in my hands as I let the pain take over, I let it drown me. I welcome it, and hope it kills me.

“Hardin . . .” My mum’s voice is quiet and comforting as she hugs me and I shake in her arms.