“Let him sleep,” Hardin answers, sensing my thoughts as he walks up behind me.

I quickly scribble a note for him explaining when we’ll return, along with our phone numbers. I doubt he has a cell phone, but I leave them just in case.

The drive to campus is short, too short, and Hardin looks like he’s going to either scream or punch something at any moment. When we arrive, he scans the parking lot for Ken’s car.

“He said to meet him here,” Hardin says, checking the screen on his phone for the fifth time in five minutes.

“There he is.” I point to the silver car pulling into the lot.

“Finally. What the fuck took him so long?”

“Be nice to him; he’s doing this for you. Please, just be nice to him,” I beg, and he sighs in frustration but agrees.

Ken has brought his wife, Karen, and Hardin’s stepbrother, Landon, which surprises Hardin and makes me smile. I love them so much for supporting him, even when he acts like he doesn’t want their help.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Hardin says to Landon as they approach us.

“Don’t you?” Landon retaliates, which makes Hardin laugh.

Listening to their exchange, Karen smiles with a brightness completely at odds with how she first appeared when she emerged from Ken’s car.

As we walk toward the administrative building, Ken says, “I’m hoping this won’t last long. I’ve been calling everyone I can to pull as many strings as possible, so I’m praying for the best.” He stops for a minute and turns to Hardin. “Let me do the talking in there—I mean it.” Watching for his son’s response, he waits for him to agree.

“Okay, yeah,” Hardin says without argument.

Ken nods and swings the big wooden doors open, leading us all inside. Over his shoulder, Ken says authoritatively, “Tessa, I’m sorry, but you can’t come inside the room with us. I didn’t want to push it, but you can wait right outside.” He turns and gives me a sympathetic smile.

But Hardin immediately goes into full panic mode. “What do you mean she can’t come inside? I need her in there!”

“I know you do. I’m sorry, but it’s family only,” his father explains as he leads us down the hall. “Unless she was a witness, but even then, that’s a huge conflict of interest.”

Ken stops us in front of a conference room and muses, “It’s not like I’m not engaged in a conflict of interest, being the chancellor. But you’re my son, and let’s at least have only one conflict, okay?”

I turn to Hardin. “He’s right, and it’ll be better this way. It’s okay,” I assure him.

He lets go of my hand and nods, looking past me to shoot daggers at his father, who sighs and says, “Hardin, please try your best to—”

Hardin holds up one hand. “I will, I will,” he says and kisses my forehead.

As the four of them walk into the room, I want to ask Landon to wait with me, but I know Hardin needs him in there, whether he’ll admit it or not. I feel so useless just sitting here outside this room while a group of stuffy men in suits decides Hardin’s educational future. Well, maybe there’s one way I can help . . .

I pull my phone out and text Zed. I’m at the administrative building, can you come here?

I stare at the screen, waiting for a reply, and my phone lights up less than a minute later: Yes, I’m on my way.

I’ll be outside, I send.

With one last glance at the door, I head outside. It’s cold, too cold to be waiting out here in a knee-length dress, but I don’t have much of a choice.

AFTER WAITING AWHILE, I’ve just decided to go back inside when Zed’s old truck pulls into the parking lot. He steps out, wearing a black sweatshirt and dark-wash jeans. The deep bruising on his face shocks me, despite the fact that I just saw him yesterday.

He tucks his hands into the pocket on the front of his sweatshirt. “Hey.”

“Hey. Thanks for meeting me.”

“It was my idea, remember?” He smiles, and I feel slightly less unsettled.

I smile in return. “I guess you’re right.”

“I want to talk to you about what you said at the hospital,” he says, which was exactly what I was planning to talk about.

“So do I.”

“You go first.”

“Steph said you told Tristan you’re pressing charges against Hardin.” I try not to look at his bruised and bloodshot eyes.

“I did.”

“But you told me you wouldn’t press charges. Why lie to me?” I’m sure the hurt is clear in my shaky voice.

“I didn’t lie to you; I meant it when I said it.”

I step closer to him. “So what changed your mind?”

He shrugs. “A lot of things. I thought about all the shit he’s done to me, and to you. He doesn’t deserve to just walk away from this.” He gestures to his face. “Look at me, for God’s sake.”

I’m not sure what to say to Zed in this moment. He has every right to be upset with Hardin, but I wish he wouldn’t take legal action against him.

“He’s already in trouble with the university board,” I say, hoping to change his mind.

“He’s not going to get in trouble; Steph told me his dad’s the chancellor,” he scoffs.

Dammit, Steph—why would you tell him that? I nod to acknowledge what he said. “That doesn’t mean he won’t get in trouble.”

But my saying this only makes him exasperated. “Tessa, why are you always so quick to defend him? No matter what he does, you’re right there to fight his battles for him!”

“That’s not true,” I lie.

“Yes, it is!” He throws his hands up in disbelief. “You know it is! You told me you’d think about what I said about leaving him, but then I see you with him at a tattoo shop days later. It doesn’t make sense.”

“I know you don’t understand, but I love him.”

“If you love him so much, then why are you running away to Seattle?”

His words rattle me. I pause for a second, but say, “I’m not running to Seattle. I’m going there for a better opportunity.”

“He’s not coming with you. Our group of friends talk, you know?”

What? “He was planning to,” I lie. But I can tell Zed sees right through it.

With challenge in his eyes, he looks off to the side, then levels his stare at me. “If you can tell me that you have no feelings toward me, none at all, I’ll drop the charges.”

Right then, the air seems to grow colder, the wind stronger. “What?”

“You heard me. Tell me to leave you alone and never speak to you again, and I’ll do it.” His request reminds me of something Hardin said to me long ago.

“But I don’t want that; I don’t want to never talk again,” I admit.

“So what do you want, then?” he asks, his voice tinged with sadness and anger. “Because you seem to be just as confused as I am! You keep texting me and meeting up with me; you kiss me, sleep in the same bed as me; you always come to me when he hurts you! What do you want from me?”

I thought I’d made my intentions clear at the hospital. “I don’t know what I want from you, but I love him and that’s never going to change. I’m sorry that I gave you mixed signals, but I—”

“Tell me why you’re going to Seattle in a week and haven’t told him!” he shouts back at me, his arms waving in front of his body.

“I don’t know . . . I’m going to tell him when I get the chance.”

“You won’t tell him because you know he’ll leave you,” Zed snaps, his eyes looking past me.

“He . . . well . . .” I don’t know what to say—because I really fear Zed’s right.

“Well, guess what, Tessa? You can thank me later.”

“For what?” I watch as his lips turn up into a wicked smile.

Zed lifts his arm up, gesturing behind me, and a shiver rakes through me. “For telling him for you.”

I know that when I turn around, Hardin will be standing there. I swear I can hear his ragged breathing over the harsh winter wind.