“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
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Really never thought I'd be rooting for Tessa
