After We Collided (After 2) - Chapter 153

Her hand moves under my chin to lift up my head. Her small fingers caress my cheek, then move up to wipe away the tears from my eyes. Her face holds a confused expression, and she watches me carefully, as if she’s studying me.

“I don’t understand you,” she tells me, still swiping her thumb across my tearstained cheeks.

“I don’t either,” I agree, and she frowns.

I stay in this position, kneeling in front of her, begging for her to give me one last chance even though I’ve blown through more chances than I deserve. I register that the bathroom has filled with steam, and her hair is sticking to her face, and moisture is beginning to pool on her skin.

God, she’s beautiful.

“We can’t keep going back and forth, Hardin. It’s not good for either of us.”

“It’s not going to be that way anymore; we can get through this. We’ve gotten through worse, and I know now how quickly I can lose you. I took you for granted, and I know that. I’m only asking for one more chance.” I take her face between my hands.

“It’s not that simple,” she tells me; her bottom lip begins to quiver, and I’m still trying to stop my tears.

“It’s not supposed to be simple.”

“It’s not supposed to be this hard either.” She begins to cry with me.

“Yes; yes, it is. It’ll never be easy with us. We are who we are, but it won’t always be this hard. We just have to learn to talk to each other without fighting every time. If we’d been able to have a conversation about the future, it wouldn’t have turned into this big fucking mess.”

“I tried, but you wouldn’t have it,” she reminds me.

“I know.” I sigh. “And that’s something I have to learn. I’m a mess without you, Tessa. I’m nothing. I can’t eat, sleep, or even breathe. I’ve been crying for days straight, and you know I don’t cry. I just . . . I need you.” My voice is breaking and cracking, and I sound like a fucking idiot.

“Stand up.” She hooks her arm under mine to try to pull me up.

Once I’m on my feet, I stand directly in front of her. My breath is ragged, and it’s hard to breathe in here, with the steam filling every inch of the bathroom.

Her eyes pour into mine as she takes in my confession. If it wasn’t for the fact that I’m crying, she wouldn’t believe me. I know she’s battling with herself, I can tell by the look in her eyes. I’ve seen it before.

“I don’t know if I can; we keep doing this over and over. I don’t know if I can set myself up for it again.” She looks down at the ground. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, look at me,” I plead and tilt her head up so her eyes meet mine.

She averts her eyes, though. “No, Hardin. I need to get in the shower, I’m going to be late.”

I capture a single tear from just below her eye and nod.

I know that I’ve put her through hell and no one in their right mind would take me back again after the bet, the lies, and my constant need to fuck everything up. She’s not like anyone else, though; she loves unconditionally, and she puts everything she has into loving me. Even now, when she’s turning me away, I know she loves me.

“Just think about it, okay?” I ask her.

I’ll give her space to think about it, but I’m not going to give up on her. I need her too fucking much.

“Please?” I say when she doesn’t respond.

“Okay,” Tessa finally whispers.

And my heart leaps.

“I’ll show you—I’ll show you how much I love you and that this can work. Just don’t give up on me yet, okay?” I wrap my hand around the doorknob.

She bites down on her bottom lip, and I let go of the knob to close the small space between us. When I reach her she looks up with cautious eyes. I want to kiss her lips again, to feel her arms wrapped around me, but instead I plant a single kiss on her cheek and step away from her.

“Okay,” she repeats, and I head out of the door.

It takes every bit of self-discipline I possess to walk out of the bathroom, especially when I turn around and she’s pulling the T-shirt over her head to expose her creamy skin, which I haven’t laid eyes on in what seems like years.

I shut the door behind me and lean against the frame, closing my eyes to stop myself from crying again. Fuck.

At least she said she’d think about it. She seemed so apprehensive, though, like it pained her to think of being with me again. I open my eyes when Landon’s bedroom door opens, and he steps into the hall wearing a white polo and khakis.

“Hey,” he says to me as he slings his bag over his shoulder.

“Hey.”

“Is she okay?” he asks.

“No, but I hope she will be.”

“Me, too. She’s stronger than she knows.”

“I know she is.” I use my shirt to wipe my eyes. “I love her.”

“I know you do,” he says, which surprises me.

I look up at him again. “How do I show her that? What would you do?” I ask him.

A pained look flashes in his eyes, but quickly disappears before he answers. “You just have to prove to her that you’ll change for her; you have to treat her the way she deserves to be treated and give her the space she needs.”

“It’s not that easy to give her space,” I tell him. I can’t believe I’m talking to Landon about this shit, again.

“You have to, though, or she’ll just fight back against you. Why don’t you try to show her in a nonsuffocating way that you’ll fight for her? That’s all she wants. She wants you to make an effort.”