Chapter 38 #2
Holding on to that, I zip us through town, darting through traffic in a mindless state.
It isn't until we're in the parking garage that I break the silence.
I help her off the back of the bike. "Don't feel obligated to move.
Your rent is paid up. I'll sell my apartment the first chance I get.
In the meantime, I'll respect your privacy as long as you respect mine.
" I hook the helmet onto the bike and don't bother taking in the tears that still line her eyes because I don't know how much more of it I can take.
I leave her there and jog up the stairs, desperate to put as much space between us as possible, my heart being ripped to shreds with each step away from her.
It kills me to leave her, but it would kill me even more to stay.
An entire week passes and I don't hurt any less today than I did then.
I haven't checked London's location and I haven't looked up a single surveillance feed to show me what she's doing.
I can't bring myself to see her because if I stand any chance of getting over her, I have to move on, as much as it pains me.
Part of me wishes she would have died that day, because at least then I would have had something to mourn instead of the betrayal I can't seem to stomach.
Madison gave me that—her death—something to hold on to and attempt to process.
London left me with nothing but her hair in my shower and the scent of her remaining on my sheets.
I can't do anything without being reminded of her, and despite my efforts, I can't help but think I'm leaving my apartment in shambles just to pretend like she's still here, haunting me in her wake.
My phone rings and I want to ignore it, but Ivy is persistent, and if I don't answer soon, she'll show up at my apartment.
I swipe the button and connect the call. "Yeah?"
"Arch, hey, finally."
"What do you need, Ivy?"
"I wanted to call and check in, see how you're doing."
"I'm fine," I lie. "Now if that will be all…"
"Don't hang up on me," she blurts out. "Aren't you going to ask me how I'm doing?"
I sigh. "How are you doing, Ivy?"
"I'm great, thanks for asking."
"Fantastic. Glad we got that out of the way."
"I'm worried about you, Arch."
I fidget with my phone on my desk, my computer screen blinking with the few open tabs of nothing in particular.
I haven't gotten much of anything done lately, and it shows, because our finances have started to decline, and I don't have the will to figure out how to fix it.
Even when Madison died I wasn't this out of sorts, and I don't know what to think of that.
I was with Madison for six years and London and I were never truly together.
Surely, I should be over things by now, but every time I glance in the direction of London's apartment, a pain jabs me in the chest.
"You have nothing to worry about," I tell Ivy.
"Why don't you just talk to her? Make up? She's not dead, Archer, but you're acting like she is."
"Do you need anything else?"
"I need you to listen to me. This family needs you. You, Archer, not the ghost of you, not some shell of a human pretending to be him. We need you."
A knock ripples through my apartment. "Ivy, I've got to go, someone's at the door."
"Don't lie to me, Archer."
"I'm not lying." I grab the phone and head in that direction.
"I'll talk to you later." I hang up and toss it onto the table near my door, right next to the one that London left behind.
I have half a mind to give it back to her, but I'd be too compelled to track her and I don't want the ease of making that happen.
I open the door, not bothering to check and see who it is first, not caring at all if it's the fucking grim reaper ready to take me away.
London is standing there in fitted black jeans, tall heels, and a tight corset-looking top with lace.
She's wearing a tan trench coat and holds a boom box above her head, with the song "In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel playing quietly.
Her gaze meets mine and she steps forward, my body almost immediately reacting by moving back, but I stay in place.
"London, this isn't necessary," I tell her, not wanting her to make a spectacle.
"Archer, please, hear me out." London sucks in a breath as if to prepare herself for the speech she's about to make.
"I don't have money, not like you do. I can't shut down a restaurant or redirect traffic lights.
I don't know how to hack into your phone and track you, or pull up camera feeds to figure out everything you want or desire.
I've been racking my brain on what to do, some grand gesture, to tell you, to show you, just how sorry I am.
I've wanted to march over here so many times, to bang on the walls, just to see if you're still there.
I hate that I hurt you. I hate that I can't make it right.
"There isn't anything I wouldn't be willing to give up to change what happened.
I'm sorry, Archer. From the bottom of my heart.
I have regretted what I did every single second.
I made a mess, and it's up to me to clean it up, to repair what I've broken.
I can't sleep. I can't eat. There isn't a thought in my head that doesn't involve you.
What you did for me? No one in my life has ever put me first. I didn't know what to do with that.
But I do now. If you'll give me a chance.
I'll do anything to fix this, just please give me a chance.
" Her eyes glisten but she keeps the tears at bay this time.
I watch her carefully, her words coursing through me as I process everything she said, coming to the same realization that I have for a week now. I can't do this. I can't be with her. Not when it hurts this fucking badly just to be near her, to see her, to breathe the same air she is.
"I'm sorry, London. Some messes can't be cleaned up." I shut the door without another thought, closing myself off to her forever.