After We Fell by Anna Todd
“I don’t think so.” The moment of humor that came with Landon and his soft pillows has been replaced by the ache of Hardin and the words we exchanged moments ago.
I lie down on my side and look over at Landon lying next to me. “Remember when you said he isn’t a lost cause?” I whisper.
“Yeah.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“Yeah, I do.” He pauses. “Unless he did something else . . .”
“No, well . . . nothing new, really. I just . . . I don’t know if I can do it anymore. We keep moving backward, and we shouldn’t be. Every single time I think we’re making progress, he becomes that same Hardin I met six months ago. He calls me a selfish bitch, or basically tells me he doesn’t love me—and I know he doesn’t mean the words, but every syllable crushes me a little more than the last, and I think I’m starting to understand that this really is just the way he is. He can’t help it, but he can’t change it either.”
Landon watches me with thoughtful eyes before his mouth turns to a frown. “He called you a bitch? Tonight?”
I nod, and he sighs heavily, running his hand over his face.
“I was saying hurtful things to him, too.” I hiccup. The heavy combination of wine and whiskey is going to haunt me tomorrow, I know it.
“He shouldn’t call you out of your name—he’s a man and you’re a woman. It’s never okay, Tessa. Please don’t make excuses for him.”
“I’m not . . . I just . . .” But that’s exactly what I’m doing. I sigh. “I think this is all about Seattle. He went from getting a tattoo for me and telling me that he can’t live without me to telling me he only chases me because I fuck him. Oh my gosh! I’m sorry, Landon!” I cover my face with my hands. I cannot believe I just said that in front of him.
“It’s okay—you did just fish your underwear out of the hot tub, remember?” He grins, lightening the conversation, and I hope that the relative darkness of the room at least hides my blushing.
“This trip has been a disaster.” I shake my head, pressing it against the cool pillow.
“Maybe not; maybe this is what you two needed.”
“To break up?”
“No . . . is that what happened?” He lays another pillow next to me.
“I don’t know.” I bury my face further.
“Is that what you want?” he asks delicately.
“No, but it’s what I should want. It’s not fair to either of us to keep doing this day in and day out. I’m not innocent here either—I always expect too much from him.” My mother’s flaws have been passed down to me. She expects too much from everyone, too.
Landon shifts a little. “There isn’t anything wrong with expecting things from him, especially when the things that you expect from him are reasonable,” he replies. “He has to see what he has. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him; he needs to remember that.”
“He said that it’s my fault . . . that he is the way he is. All I want is for him to be kind to me at least half the time, and I want security in our relationship, that’s all. It’s pathetic, really.” I groan, my voice breaks, and I can still taste the whiskey laced with Hardin’s mint on my tongue. “Would you go to Seattle if you were me? I can’t help but think I should just call it off and stay here, or go with him to England. If he’s acting like this because I’m going to Seattle, maybe I should—”
“You can’t not go,” Landon interrupts. “You’ve been gushing over Seattle since the day I met you. If Hardin won’t go with you, then that’s his loss. Besides, I give him a week of you being gone before he shows up at your doorstep. You can’t give in on this; he has to know that you’re serious this time. You have to let him miss you.”
I smile while envisioning Hardin showing up a week after I leave, desperately begging for my forgiveness with lilies in his hand. “I don’t even have a doorstep for him to show up on.”
“That was him, wasn’t it? The reason that woman wasn’t calling you back?”
“Yeah.”
“I knew it. Realtors don’t just not return calls. You have to go. Ken will help you find somewhere to stay until you find a permanent place.”
“What if he doesn’t come after all? And worse, what if he does come but he’s even more angry because he hates it there?”
“Tessa, I’m only saying this because I care about you, okay?” He waits for my response, and I nod. “You’d have to be insane to give up Seattle for someone who loves you more than anything but is only willing to show it half of the time.”
I think about Hardin saying that I make all the mistakes, that I make him act the way he does. “Do you think he’d be better off without me?” I ask Landon.
He sits up a little and says, “No, heck no! But seeing as I know you don’t tell me even half of the messed-up things he says to you, maybe it really isn’t going to work.” Reaching across the empty space between us, his hand touches my arm and he rubs slowly.
Using the alcohol in my veins as an excuse, I grant myself permission to ignore the fact that Landon, one of the only people who actually had faith in my relationship with Hardin, has just thrown in the towel. “I’m going to feel like hell tomorrow,” I say to change the subject before I break the promise that I made with myself not to cry.
“Yeah, you are,” he teases. “You smell like a liquor cabinet.”
“I met Lillian’s girlfriend. She kept giving me shots. Oh, and I danced on a bar.”
He gasps gleefully. “You didn’t.”
“I did. It was so embarrassing. It was Riley’s idea.”
“She’s . . . interesting.” Landon smiles and seems to notice his fingertips still running over my skin. He pulls them away and tucks his arm under his head.
“She’s the female version of Hardin.” I laugh.
“She is! No wonder she sounds so annoying!” he teases, and in a moment of drunken insanity, I glance over to the door, expecting to see Hardin there with a deep scowl after hearing Landon’s playful insult.
“You make me forget about everything.” My mouth releases the words before my mind can catch up.
“I’m glad.” My best friend smiles and grabs the blanket at the foot of the bed. He pulls it up over both of our bodies, and I close my eyes.
Minutes pass in silence, and my mind is putting up a fight as sleep tries to pull me under. Landon’s breathing slows, and I have to keep my eyes closed and pretend that it’s Hardin breathing next to me or my mind will never surrender.
Hardin’s angry scowl and harsh words float through my hazy thoughts as I finally fall asleep: You’re a selfish bitch.
“NO!”
Hardin’s voice startles me awake. It takes a moment to remember that I’m in Landon’s room and Hardin is down the hall, alone.
“Get off of her!” His voice echoes down the hallway seconds later.
I’m out of bed and at the door before he even finishes the sentence.
He has to see what he has. He has to know that you’re serious this time. You have to let him miss you.
If I go rushing into that room, I know I’ll forgive everything. I’ll see him feeling vulnerable and afraid, and I’ll say whatever he needs to hear to comfort him.
I pick my heart up off of the floor and walk back to the bed. I place the pillow over my head just as another “No!” rips through the cabin.
“Tessa . . . are you . . .” Landon whispers.
“No,” I reply, my voice cracking at the end. I bite down on the pillow and break my own promise. I begin to cry. Not for myself. The tears are for Hardin, for the boy who doesn’t know how to treat the people that he cares about, the boy who has nightmares when I’m not in bed with him, but who tells me that he doesn’t love me. The boy who really does need to be reminded how it feels to be alone.
chapter fifty-one
HARDIN
They won’t stop, they won’t stop touching her. His dirty, wrinkled hands run up her thighs, and she whimpers as the other man fists her
“Get away from her!” I try to shout at them, but they can’t hear me. I try to move but am frozen on the staircase from my childhood. Her gray eyes are wide, afraid, and absolutely fucking lifeless as she looks at me while a purple bruise already begins forming on her cheek.
“You don’t love me,” she whispers. Her eyes burn into mine as his hand creeps up and wraps around her neck.
What?
“Yes; yes, I do! I do love you, Tess!” I shout, but she doesn’t listen.
She shakes her head as he tightens his grip on her and his friend reaches down between her legs.
“No!” I scream one last time before she begins to fade in front of my eyes.
“You don’t love me . . .” Her eyes are bloodshot from his assault, and I can’t do a damn thing to help her.
“Tess!” I flail my arm out across the bed to reach for her. The moment I touch her, this panic will go away, taking with it the fucked-up images of those hands wrapped around her neck.
She’s not here.
She didn’t come back. I sit up and click on the lamp on the nightstand and scan the room. My heart is hammering against my rib cage, and my body is drenched in sweat.
She’s not here.
A light knock at the door sounds, and I hold my breath as it creaks open. Please be . . .
“Hardin?” Karen’s soft voice fills the room. Fuck.
“I’m fine,” I snap, and she opens the door further.
“If you need anything, please let me—”
“I fucking said I’m fine!” My hand swipes across the nightstand, knocking the lamp to the floor with a hideous crash.
Without a word, Karen leaves the room, closing the door behind her, and I’m left alone in the darkness.
TESSA’S HEAD lies on the counter, cushioned by her crossed arms. She’s still in her pajamas, and her hair is in a nest on top of her head. “I just need to take some Tylenol and drink some water,” she groans.
Landon sits next to her, spooning cereal into his mouth.
“I’ll get you some. Once we get the car packed up, we can head out. Ken is still in bed, though; he had trouble sleeping last night,” Karen says.
Tessa looks up at her but stays silent. I know she’s thinking, Did they all hear me screaming like a pathetic little bitch?
Karen walks over to open a drawer and grabs a couple of foil packets. I watch all three of them, waiting for someone to acknowledge me. No one does.
“I’m going to go pack; thank you so much for the Tylenol.” Tessa’s voice is soft as she stands up from her seat at the counter. She takes the medication quickly, and when she sets the glass of water back onto the counter, her eyes meet mine, but she quickly looks away.
It’s only been one night without her, and already I miss her so much. I can’t get the haunting images from my nightmare out of my mind, especially when she walks past me with no emotion at all. Nothing to let me know that I’ll be okay.
The dream felt so real, and she’s being so cold.
I stand still for a moment debating whether or not to follow her, but my feet decide for me as they scale the stairs. When I enter the room, she’s kneeling down, unzipping the suitcase.
“I’m just going to pack everything, then we can go,” she says without turning around.
I nod, then realize that she can’t see me. “Yeah, okay,” I mutter. I don’t know what she’s thinking, what she’s feeling, or what I should say. I’m fucking clueless, as usual.
“I’m sorry,” I say too damn loud.
“I know,” she replies quickly. Her back is still turned to me as she begins to refold my clothes from the dresser and floor.
“I really am. I didn’t mean what I said.” I need her to look at me so I can be reassured that my dream was just that.
“I know you didn’t. Don’t worry about it.” She sighs, and I notice the way her shoulders are slumped lower than before.
“Are you sure . . . I said some fucked-up shit.” You’re broken, Hardin, and I can’t fix you—that was the worst possible thing she could have said to me. She finally realizes how fucked up I am, and more importantly, she realizes that there’s no cure for what’s wrong with me. No one can fix me if it isn’t her.
“So did I. It’s fine. I have a really bad headache; can we talk about something else?”
“Of course.” I kick at a piece of the lamp I broke last night. I have to owe my father and Karen at least five fucking lamps by now.
I feel slightly guilty for snapping at Karen last night, but I don’t want to bring it up to her first, and she’s probably too polite and understanding to bring it up herself.
“Can you get your stuff from the bathroom, please?” Tessa asks.
The remainder of my time at that damn cabin is spent this way, watching Tessa as she packs our things and cleans up the broken lamp without another word to me, without really looking at me.
chapter fifty-two
TESSA
I’m so thrilled that we got to see Max and Denise again—it’s been years!” Karen gushes as Ken starts the SUV. The bags have been placed securely in the back, and I borrowed Landon’s headphones to distract myself during the drive.
“It was nice. Lillian has grown so much.” Ken appeases Karen with a smile.
“She has. She’s such a beautiful girl.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes. Lillian was nice and all, but after spending hours under the impression that she was interested in Hardin, I’m not sure if I’ll ever care for the girl. I’m grateful that the chances of me seeing her again are slim to nonexistent.
“Max hasn’t changed over the years,” Ken remarks, his voice low and disapproving. At least I’m not the only one who doesn’t care for his arrogance and haughty attitude.
“Do you feel any better?” Landon turns around to ask me.
“Not really.” I sigh.
He nods. “You can sleep it off during the drive. Do you want a bottle of water?”
“I can get it,” Hardin interjects.
Ignoring him, Landon grabs a thing of water from the small cooler on the floor in front of his seat. I thank him quietly and push the earbuds into my ears. My phone freezes repeatedly, so I turn it off and on again, hoping it will work. This drive will be miserable if I can’t drown out the tension with music. I don’t know why I never did this before the “great depression,” when Landon had to show me how to download music.
I smile slightly at the ridiculous nickname I’ve given those long days without Hardin; I don’t know why I’m smiling, given that those were the worst few days of my life. I feel a similar sensation now. I know that time is coming again.
“What’s wrong?” Hardin leans down to speak into my ear, and on reflex I jerk away. He frowns and doesn’t make a move to touch me again.
“Nothing, my phone is just . . . it’s junk.” I hold the device in the air.
“What are you trying to do, exactly?”
“Listen to music and hopefully sleep,” I whisper.
He takes the phone from my hand and messes with the settings. “If you listened to me and got a new phone, this wouldn’t happen,” he scolds.
I bite my tongue and stare out the window while he attempts to fix my phone. I don’t want a new one, and I don’t really have the money to get one right now, anyway. I have an apartment to find, new furniture to buy, bills to pay. The last thing on my mind is paying hundreds of dollars for something I already paid money for recently.
“It’s working now, I think. If not, you can just use mine,” he says.
Use his? Hardin is voluntarily offering to allow me to use his phone? This is new.
“Thanks,” I mutter and scroll through the song list on my phone before choosing. Soon music floods through my ears and enters my thoughts, drowning out my inner turmoil.
Hardin leans his head against the window and closes his eyes, the dark rings beneath them emphasizing his lack of sleep.
<
“TESSA.” Hardin’s voice wakes me. “Are you hungry?”
“No,” I groan, not wanting to open my eyes.
“You’re hungover; you should eat,” he says.
Suddenly I realize that I’m feeling the need for something to absorb all that stomach acid. “Fine,” I say, giving in. I don’t have the energy to put up a fight today, anyway.
Minutes later a sandwich and fries are placed on my lap, and I open my eyes. I pick at the food and lay my head back on the seat after finishing half of it. But my phone has frozen yet again.
Seeing me start to futz with it, Hardin pulls my earbuds out of my phone and plugs them into his. “Here.”
“Thanks.”
He’s already opened the music app for me. A long list appears on the screen, and I scroll through to find anything familiar. I almost give up, but then my eyes move to a folder named T. I look over at Hardin, whose eyes, surprisingly, are closed and not watching me. When I tap the folder, all of my favorite music appears, even songs that I’ve never mentioned to him. He must have seen them on my phone.
Things like these make me question myself. The small, thoughtful gestures that he tries to conceal from me are my favorite things in the entire world. I wish he’d stop hiding them.
WITH A GENTLE NUDGE, it’s Karen who wakes me this time. “Wake up, dear.”
I look over and see Hardin is asleep; his hand is on the seat between us, his fingers barely touching my leg. Even in his sleep, he gravitates to me.
“Hardin, wake up,” I whisper, and his eyes fly open, wide and immediately alert. He rubs them, then scratches his head and stares at me, gauging my expression.
“Are you okay?” he asks quietly, and I nod. I’m trying to avoid any confrontation with him today, but I’m growing nervous at his calm demeanor. It’s usually a precursor to a blowup.
We file out of the car, and Hardin walks to the back to retrieve our bags.
Karen wraps her arms around me and hugs me tight. “Tessa, dear, thank you again for coming. It was a lovely time. Please come visit soon, but in the meanwhile, take Seattle by storm.” When she pulls away, her eyes are full of tears.