Chapter Twenty-Five Archer #3
“Of all the ways he has fucked me up, this . . . this right here is why I hate him the most.” I hung my hands off the back of my neck and stared forlornly at the woman I’d fallen in love with.
The woman I couldn’t have. “I don’t know how people do this, and I have no compass to work my way through.
I don’t have a model. All I want to do right now is let my disappointment turn into absolute ugly fucking rage and say something to light a match between us right now. ”
Remi shook her head, closing the distance between us, her eyes holding mine. “Don’t. Don’t do that.”
The temptation reared high and impossibly loud, sliding through my mind because I felt so fucking helpless.
“I could make you hate me,” I said quietly. She lifted her hands and cupped my face. I held on to her wrists and exhaled heavily. “I could make you hate me so easily.”
“No, you couldn’t,” she said, tears making her voice thick and wet.
I didn’t want her crying for me.
The sight of her—beautiful even in tears—made me so fucking weak. Weak like I would walk away from the career I’d built. Weak like I would let my poisonous tongue take over and sever this connection so thoroughly, until the only thing left in her eyes was disgust.
An insidious voice, the one that cracked a curling whip over the nastiest of my self-sabotaging tendencies, whispered that she’d be able to move on easier if I did.
Be able to move on from me.
Before I could do either, I pushed her hands off my face and took a step back. “Yes, Remi, I could.”
“Mom?”
My stomach bottomed out.
Gavin was standing in the doorway to the shelter, gaze bouncing between us.
Remi’s eyes widened, her hands dashing furiously over her cheeks. “Gavin, I’ll be right in. Go find Aunt Ness.”
Gavin’s brow furrowed at the sound of her voice, and he swung his gaze to me.
Confused.
Angry.
Heartbroken.
“What are you doing to her?” He took a step closer, his chest heaving on short, panting breaths. “Why are you making her cry?”
Remi reached for him. “No, Gavin, baby, let me take you inside.”
He shook her arm off and marched over to me. “Go away!” he yelled, tears filling his eyes.
“Gavin,” Remi begged, tears flowing unchecked down her face again as she tried to pull him back with one hand on his arm. “Stop. He’s not doing—”
“I am,” I said hoarsely. “I am making her cry.” They both stopped. Remi stared up at me, wide-eyed. Gavin’s chin wobbled. “I’m so sorry, buddy.”
Twin tears fell down his face, and he jerked his chin up, marching forward until he set his hands on my stomach and shoved. I fell back a step, my chest severed in two. “Go away!” he repeated through his tears. “Get away from her.”
I wanted to die before ever feeling that again. It was too thick to breathe through, too big to swallow.
He turned and flung himself at Remi. She fell to her knees and hugged him, whispering something in his ear while he wept.
A tear dripped from my chin before I even knew I was crying.
Vanessa ran out of the shelter, mouth falling open at the scene. “What the—”
Remi looked over her shoulder. “Ness, can you take him in, please?”
She gave me a stunned look and then blinked, doing as she’d been asked, gently removing Gavin from his mother’s arms and taking his hand while she led him back into the building.
The fire had drained from his little body, and his pitiful sniffles felt like barbed hooks lodged in every bone of my rib cage, pulled tight and ready to snap me in half.
Remi stayed on her knees for a moment longer, getting her bearings.
I sank back against the truck and swiped a hand over my mouth, letting it stay there until she finally lifted her head and met my gaze.
My hand fell back to my side. “I’m so fucking sorry, Remi.”
I hardly even recognized my own voice—shredded with emotion, torn up with guilt and self-loathing.
“I’ll talk to him,” she said slowly. “He’s never . . . he’s never seen me with anyone, so he’s not used to some of the ups and—”
“Stop.” I lowered my voice. “Don’t make excuses for me. Not to him. I deserved that.”
Remi started to stand, and I held my hand out. She stared at it for a second, then slid her palm over mine.
What a wreck I was, that the touch of her hand almost took me to my knees. Maybe it felt better because I knew what I had to do, felt more perfect because I’d made peace with it.
“I get it,” I told her. She stood in front of me now, her eyes red and her skin pale. “I get why you can’t do this. I should’ve listened. Fuck, I should’ve listened.”
“Archer, I’m not asking you to walk away forever. I’m just asking for time.”
Remi’s heart was bigger than mine, more generous in just about every way, and she’d never say it if she didn’t mean it.
“I can handle a lot of things,” I told her, cradling her jaw with one hand. “But I can’t handle hurting you. Hurting Gavin. I’d never forgive myself. You deserve someone who won’t make you cry.”
She closed her eyes, more tears spilling down her face.
I brushed one away. “Will you do something for me?”
Remi sucked in a shaky breath and nodded.
I walked over to the truck, my body aching like I’d been worked over by a wrecking ball. I stared down at the box in the passenger seat, swallowing the hot press of tears at the back of my throat.
“Give this to him.” I held out the box. “If you don’t think he’d want it from me, just . . . say it’s from you.”
“Archer, please,” she whispered.
Before she could say anything, I leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering longer than I should have.
“It’s not supposed to be this hard, firefly.” I filled my lungs with her scent, heartsick that it might be the last time. “Not for someone like you. You’re too easy to love.”
She didn’t move.
Not when I got in the truck and reversed out of the spot. Not when I drove away.
I could still see her in the rearview mirror, holding the box in her hand, and the pain was so big, so great, that it felt like I’d left my heart behind.