This is a Hardin x Tessa fan fiction, although focuses mostly on their daughter Emery Scott.
Finished writing: March 25, 2021.
Posting schedule: Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.
It is written in first person, present tense, and has many point of vi...
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EMERY.
I lay on my bed, looking up at my ceiling. I am such a coward. He was right there. Not even sixty feet from me, talking with his mom.
His hair looked shorter, and his eyes seemed a darker brown than I've ever seen them. All I had to do was call out to him. That's all I would have to do and he would look over to me. That is what I'm sure of.
What I'm not sure of is if he'd smile or frown when he'd see me. Would he be happy that I'm changing my mind or would he be disappointed?
Yes, he asked me to go with him, but I said no. What if that's the end of it? What if it was a one time thing? What if he has realized how much better his life is without me in it?
And no one can convince me otherwise on that. I fucked up his life. I'm sure whichever reason his parents got divorced somewhat correlated with me too, because everything bad that happens does.
It seems that I was cursed at birth. Everything I love and want in life turns to shit. And I bring others down with me. I won't do that anymore. And that's why I turned around and walked out of there, not calling his name and running into his—welcoming or unwelcoming— arms.
I hear a knock at my door and I glance over at my door, tears drip down my cheek and I wipe them off. "What is it?"
"It's your mother." Mom says quietly. I sit up, resting my head on my wall.
"Come in." I sigh. I don't want to spill my guts to her but I don't have anyone else to spill my guts too.
I've realized that once you find someone to tell your secrets to—in my case, Cole— then it's hard to stop, even when that one person leaves.
It's like drugs, once you start you can't stop and you start going through other stronger drugs to get a fix until you're dead.
I don't think telling people my problems will end in death but I know that if I don't fully trust the person first it will end up ruining my life further.
"Are you okay?" Mom mutters, sitting down on the bed, she placed her hand on her abdomen as she sits, letting out a small grunt.
"Does it still hurt?" I question instead, pointing to her stomach.
She shrugs, "not as much anymore. Just when I move too quickly or... sit down too hard." She nods, "okay, now you have to answer my question."
I go silent as I think. Should I tell her I'm not okay or should I tell her I am? If I tell her I am okay she won't believe me, but if I keep to it then maybe she'll believe me. If I say I'm not okay then I'll be seen as weak and then she is going to ask me what happened and I'm going to have to tell her because I already told her I don't feel okay.
