Hardin and my father are both seated at the kitchen table when I emerge from the bathroom, Hardin's phone in hand.

"I'm wilting away here babe," Hardin says when I reach them.

I place my hands on the back of his chair and he leans his head back, his damp hair touching my fingers.

"Then I suggest you make yourself something to eat," I snap. I sit his phone down in front of him and he looks up at me with a completely neutral expression.

"Okay.." he stands to walk to the refrigerator, "Are you hungry?" he asks.

"I have my leftovers from Applebee's," I say.

"Are you upset with me about taking him drinking today?" my father asks.

"I'm not upset but I don't want it to be a regular thing,"

"It won't be, besides you're moving," he reminds me and I look across the table at the man I've only known for two days now.

I don't reply, instead I join Hardin at the fridge and pull the freezer door open, "What do you want to eat?" I ask him.

He looks at me with wary eyes, clearly trying to assess my mood, "Just some chicken or something, or we can order some take-out?"

"Let's just order something," I sigh. I don't mean to be short with him but my mind is whirling with possibilities of what was on his phone that he felt he needed to delete.

After Hardin and my father finish bickering over Chinese or pizza, Hardin wants pizza and he wins the argument after reminding my father who will be paying for it. My father doesn't seem offended by Hardin's digs at him, he just laughs or flips Hardin off.

It's a strange sight really, to watch the two of them. After my father had left I would often daydream about him when I would see my friends with their fathers. I had created the vision of a man who resembled the man I grew up with only older, not a homeless drunk. I had always thought of him carrying a suitcase stuffed with important documents, walking to his car in the morning, coffee mug in hand. I hadn't imagined he would still be drinking and he would have no where to live.

I can't picture my mother and this man being able to hold a conversation, let alone spend years married to one another.

"How did you and my mother meet?" I speak my thoughts.

"In high school," he answers.

Hardin picks up his phone and leaves the room to order the pizza, or call someone and delete the call log.

"How long were you dating before you got married?"

"Only about two years, we got married young,"

"Why?" I feel uncomfortable asking these questions but I know I wouldn't have any luck getting the answers from my mother.

"You and your mom never talked about this?" he asks.

"No, we never talked about you. If I even tried to bring it up, she shut down," I tell him and watch his features transform from interest to shame.

"Oh,"

"Sorry," I'm not sure what I'm apologizing for.

"No, I get it. I don't blame her,"

He closes his eyes for a moment before opening them again. Hardin joins us back in the kitchen and sits down next to me.

"To answer your question, we got married young because she got pregnant with you and you're grandparents hated me and tried to keep her away from me so we got hitched," he smiles at the memory.

"So you got married to spite my grandparents?" I ask with a smile.

My grandparents, may they rest in peace, were a little .. intense. Very intense. My childhood memories of them include being shushed at the dinner table for laughing and being told to take my shoes off before walking on their carpet. For birthdays they would send an impersonal card with a saving's bond inside, not ideal for an eight year old.

My mother was essentially a clone of my grandmother, only slightly less poised. She tried though, my mother spends her days and nights trying to be perfect.

"I did in a way, your mother always wanted to be married. She practically dragged me to the alter," he laughs and Hardin looks at me before laughing as well.

I scowl at him, knowing that he's concocting some snarky comment about me forcing him into marriage.

"Were you against marriage?" I ask.

"No. I don't remember really, all I know is I was scared as hell to have a baby at nineteen,"

"And rightfully so, we see how that worked out for you," Hardin remarks. I shoot him a glare but my father only rolls his eyes at him.

"It's not something I recommend but there are a lot of young parents that can handle it, I just wasn't one of them,"

"Oh," I can't imagine being a parent at my age.

"Anymore questions?" he smiles.

"No, I think that's all," I tell him. I don't exactly feel comfortable around him but in a strange way I feel more comfortable around him than I would if my mother were sitting here instead.

"If you think of any more, you can ask me. Until then, do you mind if I take another shower before dinner comes?"

"Of course not, go ahead," I tell him.

It seems like he's been here longer than two days. So much has happened in the last two days with Hardin' tattoo, seeing my father, Hardin's expulsion.. non-expulsion, talking to Zed in the parking lot, lunch with Steph and Molly, just too much.

This over stressful, constantly building and growing, pile of issues in my life doesn't appear to be letting up any time soon.

"What's wrong?" Hardin asks when my father disappears down the hall.

"Nothing," I stand up and take a few steps before he stops me by gripping my wrist and turning me to face him.

"Bullshit, I know you better than that. Tell me what's wrong," he growls, backing me against the wall.

"You,"

"I what? Talk," he demands.

"You're asking weird and you deleted your text messages and calls,"

His features twist in annoyance and he pinches the bridge of his nose, "Why would you be looking through my phone anyway?"

"Because you're acting suspicious and.."

"So you go through my shit? Didn't I tell you before not to do that shit?"

"I know I shouldn't be going through your things but you shouldn't give me a reason to and if you don't have anything to hide why would you care/? I wouldn't mind if you looked through my phone, I have nothing to hide," I tell him.

"You're just making up excuses for how psychotic you are," he says, his words burning me.

I don't have anything to say, well I have a lot to say to him but no words come from my mouth.

I pull my arm out of his grip and walk away from him. He said he knows me well enough to know when something's wrong with me, well I know him well enough to know when he's close to being caught in something. Whether it be a small lie, or a bet for my virginity, the same thing happens each time. He acts suspicious and when I bring it up to him he gets defensive and spits harsh words at me.

"Don't walk away from me," he follow behind me and into our bedroom.

"Don't follow me,"

"I don't like you going through my shit,"

"I don't like feeling like I have to,"

He closes the door and leans his back against it.

"You don't have to, I deleted that stuff because... it was an accident. It's nothing for you to be all worked up over,"

"Worked up? You mean psychotic?"

"I didn't mean that," he sighs.

"Stop saying things you don't mean,"

"Stop going through my shit,"

"Fine," I sit down at the desk.

"Fine," he repeats.

I can't decide if I believe him or not. Nothing adds up, but in a way it does. Maybe he did delete the texts and calls on accident and he was talking to Steph  on the phone. The bits and pieces of the conversation that I caught fuel my imagination and I don't want to ask Hardin about it because I don't know if I want to bring it to his attention, I don't think he will tell me anyway.

"I don't want  there to be secrets between us, we should be past that," I remind him.

"I know, fuck. There aren't any secrets, you're being crazy,"

"Stop calling me crazy, you out of all people shouldn't be calling anyone that," I regret the words as soon as they are out but he doesn't seem phased.

"I'm sorry, okay? You're not crazy, you just go through my phone," he smiles at me.

I force a smile in return and try to convince myself that he's right, I'm being paranoid. Worse case scenario and he's hiding something from me, I will find out eventually so there isn't a point in obsessing over it now. I repeat the logic mentally, over and over until I'm convinced.

"I think the pizza's here, you're not going to mad at me all night are you?" he asks before leaving the room, not giving me a chance to answer.

I check my phone when he leaves the room and once again I have a text from Zed. I don't bother to read it this time, I know what he's going to say and I don't think it's a good idea to talk to him about anything. He already made it clear he's not going to be influenced by me when it comes to the charges against Hardin. Unless I tell him that I don't want anything to do with him, which I would feel terrible doing but I still would say the words to him if it meant he would drop the charges. Hardin didn't like that idea at all and I know if I see Zed again, for whatever reason, I won't be able to stop Hardin from doing something stupid, again.

After eating pizza and watching an hour of television in the living room I'm exhausted and ready to go to bed. My last day at the old Vance office is tomorrow and Wednesday we leave for the boat trip. Hardin tells me he will be to bed soon and gives me a quick kiss on my forehead before I leave the room.

I am barely aware of Hardin's arms wrapping around my waist as he pulls me closer to him.

I wake up twenty minutes before my alarm sounds. Hardin groans and rolls over, his arm reaching out for me in his sleep before hugging the pillow instead.

I try to be as quiet as possible as I walk to the kitchen to start the coffee pot. My father is still asleep by the time I'm finished with my hair and makeup. Hardin will have to drop him off wherever it is he's going. I don't know if it would be a good idea to offer him to stay another night. I wouldn't mind, but we're leaving early Wednesday morning. I'll let Hardin decide what we should do. He's the one that would have an issue with it anyway.

I drive slower than usual to Vance Publishing. I want to take in every street, every building on the way. This  paid internship has been a dream come true, I know I'll be working for Vance in Seattle but this building is where it started, where my career started.

Kimberly is sitting at her desk when I step off of the elevator. Multiple brown boxes are stacked near the side of her desk.

"Good morning!" She chimes.

"Good morning," My voice isn't capable of sounding as cheery as hers. I would come off nervous and awkward.

"Ready for your last week here?" She asks as I fill up a small Styrofoam cup with coffee.

"Yes, my last day actually. I'm going on a trip for the rest of the week," I remind her.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Wow! You're last day! I should have gotten you a card or something," she smiles.

"It's not like you won't see me next week," I laugh.

"True,"

"Are you ready to go? When will you be leaving?" I ask her.

"Friday, our new house is already unpacked and ready for us to arrive,"

Kimberly and Christian's new home is lovely, large and modern, much like the house they are moving from. Kimberly's engagement ring sparkles under the light and I can't help but stare at the beautiful ring every time I see it.

"I'm still waiting for the woman to call me back from my apartment," I tell her and she turns to look at me.

"What? You don't have an apartment yet?"

"I do, I sent her the paperwork already we just have to go over the details of the lease."

"You have six days," she looks panicked for me.

"I know, I have it under control." I assure her, hoping it's true.

If this would have been happening a few months ago I would have every minute of this move planned but lately I have been too stressed to focus on anything, especially this move to Seattle.

"Okay, if you need help just let me know," she offers and her phone rings on her desk.

When I get back to my office there are a few empty boxes on the floor. I don't have many personal items in my office so it shouldn't take long.

As I tape the last box closed there is a gentle knock at the door.

"Come in," I say loudly.

For a moment I wonder if it's Hardin, but when I turn around Trevor is standing in the doorway wearing light jeans and a plain white t-shirt. I'm always caught off-guard when he's dressed casually, I'm so used to seeing him in a suit.

"Are you ready for the big move?" He asks me as I attempt to lift a box that I packed too heavily.

"Yeah, almost. Are you?"

He walks over and picks up the box from my feet, lifting it onto the desk.

"Thanks," I smile and wipe my hands on the sides of my green dress.

"I am, I'm heading out today as soon as I finish up here,"

"That's amazing, I know you've been ready to get to Seattle since we were there last time," I can feel the embarrassment spread through my cheeks as I watch it spread across his.

He took me to a nice dinner only to have me reject his kiss and later he was threatened and shoved by Hardin. I have no idea why I just brought that up.

"That was an interesting weekend," he looks at me, "Anyway, I know you have to be pumped too, you've always wanted to go to Seattle,"

"Yeah, I can't wait,"

"I know it's none of my business, but is Hardin moving to Seattle with you?"

"No," my mouth answers before my mind can catch up.

"Well I'm not sure yet, he says he doesn't want to but I'm hoping that he will change his mind." I continue to ramble, the words come out quickly, too quickly and he looks somewhat uncomfortable as he shoves his hands into his jean pockets.

"Why wouldn't he want to come with you?"

"I'm not sure really, but I hope he does," I sigh and sit down in my leather chair.

"He's crazy if he doesn't," Trevor's blue eyes meet mine.

"He's crazy either way," I laugh, trying to diminish the growing tension in the room.

He laughs and shakes his head, "Well I better finish up so I can get on the road but I'll see you in Seattle."

With a smile he leaves my office and for some reason I feel slightly guilty. I reach for my phone and text Hardin, causally letting him know that Trevor stopped by my office. For once Hardin's jealousy appeals to me, maybe he will find himself too jealous of Trevor and decide to move to Seattle after all? It doesn't seem likely but I can't help but hold onto the last thread of hope that he will change his mind. The clock is running out, six days is not very long for him to plan. He would have to put in a transfer request, that shouldn't be a problem considering Ken's position.

Six days doesn't seem long enough for me either, I'm ready for Seattle though. I have to be. This is my future and I can't revolve it around Hardin when he isn't willing to compromise. I offered that we move to Seattle first and if it doesn't work out we can go to England but he didn't give it a second thought before declining. I'm hoping this trip with his family will make him see that he come with me, with Landon, Ken, and Karen on my side it shouldn't be too difficult, then again, this is Hardin I'm talking about and nothing is easy when it comes to him.

The phone on my desk rings, breaking me from the stressful thoughts surrounding Seattle.

"You have a visitor," Kimberly says into my ear and my heart leaps at the thought of seeing Hardin.

It's only been a few hours but I always miss him when we're apart.

You better get used to missing him if you can't change his mind about Seattle, my subconscious mocks me.

I ignore her, "Tell Hardin to come back, I'm surprised he even waited for you to call me," I say into the phone.

"Uhm, it's not Hardin,"

What?

"Is it an older man with a beard?" Maybe Hardin brought my father here?

"No, he's a young guy.. like Hardin," she practically whispers.

"Does he have bruises on his face?" I ask her despite the fact that I already know the answer.

"Yeah, do you want me to let him back or should I make him leave?" I can tell by her tone that he's listening to her and she doesn't care to let him know that she holds the authority to kick him out.

I don't want to have her force him to leave, he hasn't done anything wrong except not listen to Hardin's instructions to stay away from me.

"No, it's fine. He' my friend, let him back."

Why would he come here? I'm sure it has something to do with me ignoring him but I don't understand what could be so urgent that he would drive forty minutes to tell me?

I hang up the phone and debate whether or not to text Hardin and tell him about Zed's arrival. I toss my phone in my desk drawer and close it.

The last thing I need to happen is for Hardin to come here, I know he won't be able to control his anger, he will surely cause a scene on my last day here. He will get arrested, again.

I stand to walk to the door, taking a deep breath.