Chapter 21 Healing and Growth #2
“Nope, the bastard left it all to Mom, without a doubt. Couldn’t have been easy with twins.
She probably became really good at timing our feeding schedules just right.
” Brooks settled across from me, and as if we had the ability to read each other’s thoughts, that was the end of speaking of our parents.
We’d long ago dealt with the demise of our family unit and decided we were better off not dwelling on the past.
“I can’t get over how quiet it is around here. Our place with two kids, crazy loud. But this penthouse is like heaven.” He sat across from me, leaned back, his hands folded behind his head.
“Welcome to my world. Only I spent the past two weeks wandering around this place going stir crazy. You should have brought Everett over every day. I could have used a little emotional support bean.”
“Maybe you need a dog. Keep you company, loyal, loving.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
He studied me. “So what now, since you’ve had all this time on your hands to think?”
I shrugged. “I’ve been making lists of things to do around here. Adding built-in bookshelves. Knocking down a wall. Finally hanging up things on the walls that I meant to do four years ago. Real domestic stuff.”
He shot me a look. “I meant with your life, not your home.”
I exhaled. “Oh. Well. That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Who am I if I’m not the guy working twenty hours a day?”
“Maybe the guy who finally lives a little.” He continued and talked about when he had made the decision to scale back and follow his passion for teaching at the university level, making time for Maisy and the kids.
I had to admit, slowing down had certain merit as each day went by and I didn’t have to put on a suit. “I could step back and take some time off from the office. Like you, chase something new. But I don’t know what.”
“Good. I’d support that. Take all the time in the world to explore what you want to do.
Start by coming to my classes as a guest speaker.
The students would love to have your real-world stories and insights.
” He paused for a breath. “You know, we could even drop the Brothers. Let it be Bellamy Architecture, not a shrine to our burnout. Involved when we want to be, hands off more often, especially with good people in place running it.”
“Make more time for things that are important.” I gazed into the baby’s sweet face, a lump forming in my throat. Getting emotional about random things was another part of my healing process, apparently.
“For people who are important. Does Penny fit into that plan?”
I didn’t answer right away. He saw it anyway through our twin connection.
“Arch, you may be my brother, but you were a fucking idiot to her that first day in the hospital. What the hell happened between you two?”
I filled him in.
He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair when I was through. “At Friendsgiving, everyone saw how good she was for you. She pulled you out of Dark Mode, back to regular old Archer. I get you were hurt; she should have shared all with you, but I think her heart was in the right place.”
“I know.”
“And she’s not Brianne.”
“I know.”
“So what do you want, Arch?”
“What you have.”
“Then let yourself have it. Call her.”
“What if I make a mistake, or do something that pushes her away for good?”
“If you love each other, you’ll work it out.
You think Maisy and I have the rosiest relationship?
We argue. The latest one is about the grout color I applied in our recent guest bathroom makeover.
She said gray, and I thought that’s what I bought, but it ended up taupe.
Who knew there was a slight difference between them?
And of course, she’s right; I should have tried a sample before I did the whole bathroom.
But I won’t concede yet because our makeup sex is too fucking good each time we argue about it. ” He finished with a sly smile.
“Shh, the baby’s ears.” Everett made a squeaky noise, as if in agreement.
Brooks chuckled and added quietly, “Relationships aren’t perfect. They cannot be controlled. Just accept the fact that they are messy and call her.”
He made a convincing argument—annoyingly, infuriatingly so.
I’d been broken far too long, letting my brokenness hold me back. Time to let go of that version of myself. Time to rebuild.
After he left, it was late, and too many thoughts invaded my head space. I jotted them all down, seeking a way to organize them.
Bellamy Architecture:
New Name. Transition plan.
Elevate partners to take over.
Reward loyalty.
Life:
Chase things to do that bring me joy.
Figure out what joy looks like.
Health:
Call Dr. Kramer, find out long-term heart health prognosis and take action.
Strive everyday for balance and emotional support on my journey.
Home:
Buy hooks.
Hang artwork.
Add built-in shelves
Love:
Call Penny.
Talk and apologize.
Say those three words to her if I haven’t ruined it between us by staying away so long.
That was it, a list that would rule my life starting tomorrow. With luck, I’d start the day fresh with the possibility of her ending back in my arms.
I walked the penthouse, every footstep echoing with possibilities I could see more clearly now.
In the doorway of my bedroom, I saw the bed made for two, a closet half-empty—space for her and all her things. Maybe one day, a nursery down the hall. A little bean of our own.
For years I’d dreamed only in blueprints and deadlines. Tonight, I would dream of laughter, chaos, and love that lasted.
Tomorrow, I’d tell Penny Fair how madly in love with her I was, and stop postponing the rest of my life.