Tessa's POV:
How dare he'd writes about my life in his book and publish it without my any concern. Why would he do that?
To hurt me, obviously. He did it in the past why wouldn't he be doing this now. He always does this then push me away and I regret to talk to him again which make me hate him even more.
As I'm stomping my feet, going to walk out, taking first step in front stoop of the building, I missed a step. Tripping over the steps and land on my knees and palms.
Shit. I curse myself.
Getting up, I stand on my feet, trying to work on my plan to walk but it's hurt to even take a one step. So I sit down on step of my building's stoop.
I dust off the dirt from my palms then from my knees, I whine at the pain.
This all because of him, even this, though he wasn't here to do anything. But because of him I stomp out of that apartment and tripped.
Time passes I don't know how much, just sitting on the step and staring at the continuously moving cars in road and walking peoples on the street.
Why I'm angry at him? He write a book about me. Me and our relationship, our love more importantly. Did he write about our love? Maybe.
This book means he was paying attention to our lives together, to write a whole novel.
I should've read the whole book, not just bit which apparently the have the hateful stuff about me.
I had a feeling that he'd follow me or make me stay, surly wouldn't let me leave in my pajamas.
Should I go inside? Why the hell did I leave. That's what we do, leave instead of solving things.
Like some ginnie Hardin appears and sit down next to me. Looking up at him, I can see the relief in his eyes that seeing me sitting here at stoop instead of walking around the street.
"We need to talk." I nod and looks away, waiting for an explanation.
"We need to talk," he repeats a minute later and sits just below my step I'm sitting on.
"I would say." I say forcing a smile.
"What happened? Are you all right?" He reaches for my legs,
examining the wounds closer.
Turning away, embarrassingly I say, "I tripped, that's all."
"None of this was ever supposed to happen." Oh God, here we go.
"You wrote a book about us and shopped it around to publishers. How was that not intentional?" I growl.
"No, I mean all of this. You and I, everything." Taking a breath he continue. "This year has been an entire lifetime for me. I have learned so much about myself and about life and about how life should be. I had this fucked-up view of everything. I hated myself, I hated everyone around me." I remain silent and trying to keep my face straight as he belittle him.
"I know you don't understand, not many people do, but the worst feeling in the entire fucking world is hating yourself, and that's what I dealt with every single day. That wasn't an excuse for the shit I pulled. I should have never treated you the way that I did, and you had every damn right to leave me the way you did. I only hope that you will read the entire book before making your decision. You can't judge a book without reading from cover to cover."
"I'm trying not to judge, Hardin, I'm really not, but this is too much. I fell out of this pattern, and I didn't see this coming, and I still can't wrap my head around it." I shake my head.
"I know, baby. I know." I wince at the pain when he reaches for one hands of mine and wrap his fingers around it. He gently turn my hand over to examine the welts covering the skin of my palm. "You okay?" He asks. I nod, allowing him to trace the wound with his fingertip.
YOU ARE READING
After 4 | ✓
Fanfiction"Put your heels on the headboard." Hardin instructs, grabbing by my calves and pulling up my legs and spreading them wide in front of his naked crotch, then he puts my heel behind him on the edge of my tall headboard. The height of my headboard keep...
