19. Lottie
Chapter 19
Lottie
Z ara groans beside me as our professor advances to yet another slide on the effects sharks have on our ecosystems, but I’m completely absorbed in his words. I hang on to every sentence, just as I’ve done since the very first day of class.
The ocean has always called to me, drawing me in even after I came dangerously close to losing myself in the depths. The near-death experience only solidified my desire to protect it since it wasn’t its fault. I jumped with every intention of dying until Archer saved me.
“If the professor weren’t so hot, I’d never attend class,” she whispers to me, a sly grin tugging at her lips, and I roll my eyes at her.
“Not my type,” I sign back. One of the perks of being mute is never being caught talking in class.
“No, your type is in the Marines… or is it the one who follows you around with that lost look in his eyes,” she huffs a laugh at her joke, earning the attention of our professor at the front.
“Shut up,” I reply, shooting her a glare as I try to hide my smile.
“You shut up,” she hisses, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re practically yelling.”
I stare at her for a moment, then a little longer, as we both try to hold in our laughter. “I’ll tell everyone you have a thing for him if you don’t shut up.” I move my hands rapidly in an attempt to confuse her, and she narrows her eyes at me.
“I know what you’re doing, Lottie, and I won’t fall for it.”
“I have no clue what you mean…” I silently mock gasp, clutching my chest in a faux horror.
The professor suddenly appears in front of us, his grey eyes glinting with amusement as he clears his throat. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything too… entertaining,” he says, his voice smooth as silk.
Zara straightens in her seat, her cheeks reddening. “Sorry, professor. We weren’t?—”
He cuts her off with a playful grin, leaning slightly toward both of us. “I know better than to believe that.” His eyes shift to me, his smile widening. “And as for you, I can’t say I’m entirely convinced you weren’t encouraging her. You have that look about you.”
I raise an eyebrow, my cheeks warming, but shake my head all the same. “Never.” I sign as Zara translates for me.
“I’m sure you’ll both behave now,” he says, straightening with a playful wink in Zara’s direction. “Now, back to how the Greenland shark survives in the arctic waters and can live for hundreds of years…”
* * *
“I can’t believe he caught us talking,” Zara whines as we leave our class.
I shake my head, “He caught you talking.” I give her a look, shaking my hands as if to make my point.
“No, you don’t get out of this just because you’re mute. You’re a chatterbox, and you know it.”
“Me? I fear you may have the wrong person.” I laugh, the only sound ever to leave my mouth.
I’ve been working on it with my therapist since Archer last left, wanting to give him the perfect final homecoming gift.
The warmth of the sun presses against my skin as Zara and I walk out of the college's front doors, our laughter echoing around us.
We pause at the top of the steps, a crowd gathered at the bottom, phones in hand, and my heart stutters at the familiar scene from years ago when three boys I can no longer bring myself to think about used to torment me.
The weight in my chest that had been there for years, the one I tried to ignore, was somehow heavier.
“Hey, are you okay?” Zara asks, her voice pulling me from my thoughts.
I nod, trying to force a smile. She doesn’t buy it, but she doesn’t push. Zara always knows when I’m lying. She says it’s because of a bond we don’t fully ever understand that helps us, but she also knows when to give me space.
We walk a few more steps in silence until I reach the bottom of the steps, the crowd parting.
I freeze.
There, at the bottom of the stairs, is a figure I recognize instantly.
Archer.
Standing in front of me, looking every bit the man who saved me from drowning, yet there’s something different in his eyes. It’s not just the weariness of being away. There’s a shadow, a darkness that lingers in his gaze that I know all too well.
The same one when I look in the mirror.
My heart stops, and I blink. Certain, my mind is playing tricks because Archer isn’t supposed to be home until this weekend, and yet here he is. Standing tall in his Marine uniform, his posture straight. His brown hair is shorter than I remember, military precision, but I can’t wait for him to grow it out just like he always does when he’s home, and it gets that perfectly messy look.
Zara nudges me, a smile on her face as her eyes ping between us both. Oscar stands to the side, an encouraging soft smile on his face as he nods his head towards his best friend. “Go.” He signs.
I feel like I’m suffocating—like the air has been sucked out of my lungs. Every nerve in my body screams for me to move, but my feet refuse to obey.
“What are you waiting for?” Zara whispers to me.
I can’t answer… I can’t move. My body is stuck in place, just like he seems to be, and my thoughts are a chaotic mess of memories and emotions.
What will him being home mean for my feelings?
I could ignore them when he was gone, but now he’s stood in front of me, eyes locked onto mine with an intensity too much to ignore.
Archer shifts. He doesn’t smile or wave; it’s just a subtle shift of his feet as if he’s as desperate to reach out for me as I am for him.
Something inside me finally snaps. My feet move before I can think about it anymore because this is Archer. My Archer. The man who saved me and gave me something I had never dreamt of having.
A future.
I take one step, then another, the distance between us shrinking with every breath I take until I’m breaking out into a sprint, flinging myself into his arms, my heart pounding in my chest, and my eyes unable to look away from his.
He’s somehow even more beautiful than I remember, but there’s a weight in his brown eyes that wasn’t there before.
Archer’s grip is punishing as he holds me, and I bury my head into the crook of his neck, savoring the minty smell of his shower gel.
“I missed you,” I whisper, the words slipping out like a breath.
I haven’t spoken in so long, not since that night, but I wanted the first words I’d say in four years to be for him. I’ve been working on it with my therapist since Archer last left, wanting to give him the perfect final homecoming gift. The work I’ve been doing has prepared me for this moment, and for the first time since my voice was stolen from me, in his arms, it feels like I can finally exhale.
Archer’s breath stalls, his hands tightening around my thighs as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go. “I missed you, too,” he says, a tremor in his voice, but the emotion in it is so raw it sends a shiver down my spine. He pulls back slightly, but only enough to look at me, his gaze searching my face. The darkness in his eyes is still there, but it’s tempered by something I can’t place. “You spoke.”
“I did. I wanted the first words I said to be for you. You saved me, Arch. I wouldn’t have found my voice again if it wasn’t for you,” I say, my voice choked with emotion as I stare into his eyes for the first time in months.
My voice is rough from disuse, but I’ve been building towards this since he last left. An hour spent in the bathroom, staring at my reflection as I pushed the words out through breathless pants as I staved off looming panic attacks.
I did this for him, but most of all for myself.
Four years is a long time to be voiceless.
“Lottie…” Archer’s voice breaks.
A soft cough from behind us pulls us out of our bubble. I glance over and see Oscar standing there, leaning against the railing, his arms crossed. He’s watching us intensely, a faint smile on his lips.
“Are you two done staring lovingly into each other’s eyes?” he signs, rolling his eyes.
“Never,” Archer responds, lowering me to the ground. His hands linger on my waist before he finally pulls away.
I roll my eyes back at him, ignoring the way my cheeks heat at his words. “You weren’t supposed to be home until the weekend.” I sign, unable to form the words now I’m out of our little bubble.
I’ll continue to work towards gaining my voice again, but for now, I’m happy with the signing.
Oscar’s eyes flick to Archer, then back to me. He tilts his head to the side, silently asking if he should give us a moment.
I nod, my throat tight. There’s something in the way Oscar looks at me, just like the way Archer looks at me sometimes, that makes my heart flutter, but I’ve never let myself think about it. Not when it feels like I don’t deserve this life that seems to have been handed to me.
Oscar gives me a small, understanding smile, then steps back, flapping his hands at the crowd to leave.
As soon as everyone is gone and we’re finally alone, Archer gives me his full attention, his lips curling into a small, almost sad smile. “You spoke. Are you okay?” he asks me.
I nod, swallowing hard. How can I tell him that those words felt freeing but also like imprisonment? My mental walls are low right now, and the memories that I try so hard to keep at bay are threatening to swallow me whole. “Yeah,” I manage, my fingers tightening around the fabric of his uniform—grounding me just like he did the night he pulled me out of the water. “I’m… I’m just glad you’re finally home.”
Archer doesn’t answer straight away, his eyes tracking over my entire face, searching for something, though I’m not sure what.
“I came back early for you, Lottie. I wanted to surprise you.”
I feel my heart skip, the warmth of his words sinking in, and the way my new name slides over his tongue. It’s intoxicating to have Archer’s full attention, but I know it’s because he feels a sense of obligation to me after that night.
My hand moves on its own, unable to form any words, and I reach up to touch his face, tracing the line of his jaw. His hand captures mine, holding me still, his breathing heavy. “Don’t,” he clips, his eyes darkening. “My sanity is barely hanging by a thread right now, Lottie.”
I don’t know what he means by that, but I don’t get the chance to ask. Oscar’s cough interrupts the moment again, and I turn to see him standing a few feet away, watching us with an unreadable expression on his face. His eyes flicker to mine for a second, and I swear he’s checking to see if I’m hurt. But this is Archer.
My savior.
He would never hurt me… and yet somehow I know that isn’t true as my eyes connect with his. Familiar demons swirling inside them… the same demons that I see when I look in the mirror. “Come on, you two. You’re making everyone jealous,” Oscar rolls his eyes as he moves his fingers, and I huff out a laugh, burying my head in Archer’s chest as my cheeks burn.
Archer chuckles, the sound vibrating from his chest. “Can you blame them? Our girl is beautiful.”
I pull back, hating myself for how my heart flutters at his words, and make my way toward Oscar’s car, which I know is parked in the parking lot.
As I take a step forward, three familiar faces—ones I thought I’d only ever encounter in my darkest nightmares—stare back at me. The shock on their faces mirrors my own, but theirs twists into anger and hatred, while mine contorts into pure horror.
It can’t be.
If they are here, then that means he might be.
“Lottie?” Archer’s voice breaks the spell, and I turn to look at him with watery eyes. “What’s wrong?” he immediately asks, crowding my space as he grips my chin to look at him.
With shaky hands, I sign. “They are here.”
“Who?” Oscar asks, his hands moving fast. “Who are they, Lottie?”
“Archer.” My voice is a broken plea that cracks and breaks, barely able to form the words as my throat closes like a vice around the words I so desperately want to say.
“They. As in them .” He growls out the word, knowing my past, and I lay myself bare for him when he saved me.
I’m not sure why I trusted him, why I spilled everything to a stranger.
Maybe it was the softness of his touch, so different from the pain I knew. His hands were the first to offer comfort instead of pain. Or maybe it was the desperation. Trust him, or death.
I search for them again, but there’s no sign of the three boys… no, not boys. Men. The three men I never wanted to see again.
I don’t think I could survive them again.