25. Archer
CHAPTER 25
Archer
I’m not sure what brought me here, only that I am and that, for the first time in nearly two months, I can think about my twin without wanting to punch him in the face all over again.
Is that what forgiveness is? Waking up one day and realizing you no longer want to be angry? Learning that the longer you hold on to it, the more it takes from you than it gives?
For a moment, I think maybe I’ll go back home. But I think about what Briar told me of her family and what I know of Skylar’s and what I’ve seen, or rather not seen, of Tinsley’s. I want to make my girl a part of my family—more than she already is—and for her to bring the one she’s made for herself with her. And for that to happen, I need to find a way through what Hunter did, and that can’t begin to happen if I keep avoiding him.
I quickly run through the centering techniques Michelle has been teaching me and knock on the door.
“It’s open!” Hunter yells out, and I hesitate again.
It feels weird—a mix of being unmoored and uneasy—to let myself into his home, and it never used to. Is this how it’s been for him for the last seven weeks? First with my refusal to even see him, then with going clear across the country and sending every call to voicemail and leaving every text unopened.
Shit.
I know I have a right to be angry. But why can I so easily let that go for Tinsley in the face of her pain but haven’t once stopped to think about my brother?
This is long overdue.
I turn the handle and head inside.
Even though it’s summer and late morning, Hunter’s house is filtered with long shadows. While I live on the lake and Ryder in the original home that’s on several cleared acres of property, my twin built his house in what might as well be the woods. Not even the brightest days are capable of fully penetrating the dense canopy of trees that surround him.
I can hear him talking in the kitchen and make my way there.
“It’s been going for two minutes. Now what?”
“Increase the speed to medium-high and let it knead for ten—Archer?”
“Tinsley?”
In my brother's kitchen is my girlfriend. Not physically but on his tablet, propped up by the stand mixer.
“Hunter, increase the speed so you don’t ruin the dough!”
“Yeah, wouldn’t want you to have to start over, again ,” Briar sneers.
“Right, sorry,” he rushes out, moving the lever. “How long?”
“Ten minutes. I’ve set a timer,” Tinsley replies. “Now move, so I can see the better looking twin. Hi, Superman!”
“Hey, Shortcake,” I reply slowly. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Hunter’s proving he’s not only the ugly twin but that you also got all the brains,” Briar answers.
“Stuff it, Barbie!”
“Make me, you chauvinistic hillbilly!”
“Keep talkin’ dirty to me; Daddy likes it when you get feisty.”
Briar gags, and I’m not entirely sure it’s fake before she responds, “Tinsley, get your micro-peen brother-in-law on a leash.”
“Oh sweetheart, there ain’t nothin’ micro about what I got.” He gestures over his shoulder to me and says, “Identical, remember? Ask Tinsel here about what I’m packing.”
“Ew, Hunter, no!” Tinsley shouts while Briar deadpans, “You mean besides an incurable STI?”
“Archer,” Tinsley pleads. “Make them stop.”
I come closer and see she’s in a makeup chair, her hair in rollers and face done up, a silk robe over her first costume.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thank you. I was going to call you after I do the pre-show meet and greet.”
“I’m not concerned,” I assure. “Just… surprised.”
A timer going off interrupts us and Hunter cuts off the mixer, asking, “Now what?”
“Gently form it into a ball and drizzle it with more olive oil. Make sure it’s coated and then place it in a bowl and cover it with cling wrap and a dishtowel. It’ll need to proof for an hour, get punched down, then proof again. Once that’s done, you can store it in the fridge until Ellie comes over and y’all are ready. But make sure you take it out at least thirty minutes before you need to stretch it so it can loosen up.”
“Got it. Thanks, Tinsel.”
“You’re welcome.”
When Hunter goes to finish prepping the pizza dough, Briar huffs, “Finally. I thought he was going to screw it up again.
“You two have five minutes, then I need to take her away.”
She doesn’t wait for a response before walking off, phone in her hand as she furiously begins typing away.
I pick up the tablet and turn, leaning against the counter. “How long has this been a thing?”
“Since we left. I would have told you but?—”
“I’m not mad, baby. Surprised, but not mad. It makes it… easier knowing you’re okay with him?” I finish in question.
“Archer,” she says. “He’s your brother, your twin. Okay might not be the right word, but of course I’m going to work to fix things with him. I told you, I didn't want you to be hurt anymore. That means finding a new normal with your evil twin.”
“Y’all realize I can hear you, right?”
“Don't care,” Tinsley calls out, smiling at me.
“Why didn’t you say anythin’?”
She shrugs and simply replies, “You weren’t ready, which is okay. But now you are.”
I glance up and, even though he can no doubt still hear me, lower my voice. “How’d you do it? Forgive him after he kept you away?”
“I can’t be angry over what was taken when what I have now is both dreams. I can only be angry about how it hurt you. And to be angry with him about that, I have to be angry with myself because I was the one who opened that door.” She’s quiet for a moment, then asks, “Archer, do you forgive me?”
I don’t even have to think about it. “Of course.”
“Then forgive Hunter, or at least start to.” There’s a knock on her door and I can hear Mikey tell her it’s time. “I have to go. I miss you. I wish you were here.”
“Me too, baby. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The video call disconnects and I put the tablet down. Across the kitchen, Hunter leans against a different counter looking like my mirror.
We start to talk, then stop at the same time, the both of us resuming as well when the other quiets.
“Shit,” I snort. “Go ‘head.”
“Why the fuck are you here?”
That wasn’t what I was expecting.
“Well, considerin’ you blow up my phone with texts and phone calls everyday, I thought you wanted to talk. My bad.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he sighs.
“Like you didn’t mean for, ‘why would Tinsley be interested in me?’ to sound the way it did?”
“Jesus Christ! I’ve always hated arguing with you. It’s not fair that you can remember shit I said that I can’t. But yes, exactly like that.”
“You know what your problem is? You don’t think , Hunter. You just do and say whatever the hell you want, consequences be damned. Doesn’t matter who you hurt or whose lives you destroy, you just go on without remorse.”
“Destroyed?” he scoffs. “Tinsel’s playin’ the first of three sold out nights at Wembley. I’d hardly say I destroyed her life by letting her believe Ashley was your girlfriend.”
“You’re right. Her career shines brighter than I think she could have ever dreamed. People are going to remember her for a lifetime. But I’m talkin’ about offstage. When she’d go home and cry herself to sleep thinking I’d moved on. How you fucked her up in the head so thoroughly she let them strip away everything I love about her because, after your treatment of her, she felt like she wasn’t enough for anyone.”
“For someone who never went after her, you sure are layin’ a lot of blame at my feet, Arch. Tins knows what she did and owns it. I know what I did and I own that. But do you ? I had an easier time talkin’ you out of goin’ than Mom and Ryder had tryin’ to talk you into it.”
He’s right. I can’t argue a single point. For all my wanting, I never went, and I tell him as much.
“You’re right. I didn’t go after her. Not the morning after she left, not in the ten months that followed, not after Ashley and feelin’ like I’d just cheated on the love of my life, and not in the last nine years.
“I was twenty-one, and Tinsley was eighteen. We were kids who wanted to be together forever and talked about how that would look but were too immature to make it happen, and the choices we made reflect that. I won’t argue that and yeah, I own it.
“But do you have any remorse for what you did? I mean, you lied to my face for ten years, Hunter. No matter the fault I bare, that’s not somethin’ I can easily get over. You’re my twin. You, above everyone else, should have my fuckin’ back, no matter what.”
We’re quiet for a long time, and when we both scrub our hands down our faces and card a hand through our hair before tugging on the ends, sighing, we both chuckle.
Hunter sighs again, rubbing at the back of his neck while I rub at the front of mine.
“I thought I did.”
“Hmm?”
“I thought I had your back that night. Shit, Arch—” He breathes, hopping up on to the counter. “I’ve never been so scared and so angry as I was when I came home and saw her puttin’ her suitcases in the trunk of her car. I wanted to slash her tires so she was forced to stay because nothin’ I was sayin’ was gettin’ through to her.
“I should’ve woken you up the minute I realized I wasn’t gonna be able to stop her, but I was so angry with her for even havin’ the thought of leavin’, let alone actin’ on it, I let her go. I didn’t think she deserved the way you loved her and genuinely thought I was doin’ what was best for you that night.
“You know, I nearly told you the truth every day in those first few weeks and months. You were… fuck, you weren’t you. You were there but you weren’t and I hated seein’ you like that. And the guilt of knowin’ I was part of the cause—Jesus, it was eatin’ me alive. So much so, I eventually went and got the letter from Dad’s desk.
“I was on my way up the stairs to give it to you when I heard the TV. Those two tabloid guys with the website and show were talking about that umm… what’s that guy’s name?” Hunter asks, snapping his fingers, trying to jog his memory. “You know, the one she did the tour with.”
“Landon Rhodes.”
“That’s the one. They were talkin’ about him and the pretty brunette he was seen havin’ lunch with. They couldn’t recall her name but knew she’d just released a single and one of the others in their office said her name was Tinsley Jacobs. There wasn’t much to report, but I pulled out my phone and found a flood of pictures of them with speculation about if they were together or not.
“I put the letter back and kept watch on her after that. The rumors kept growing, but she never said they weren’t together. I felt a lot less guilt after that and none when you continued actin’ like you were a committed man and defending her while her relationship was flaunted in your face.
“And then she came back, but everyone was talkin’ about how she and Landon were on the rocks and I thought… I thought she was just pickin’ you up now that her famous boyfriend was droppin’ her like she dropped you. And you know what happened after that.”
“It wasn’t your place to make those choices.”
“No, it wasn’t, but you were finally comin’ out of that hollowness she’d put you in, and I didn’t want to see you go back. Especially not as her second choice when she was your only choice.”
“Hunt,” I say solemnly. “I wasn’t comin’ out of it; I was learnin’ to live with it. When she’s gone… nothing feels right and everything lacks vibrancy. My world is just dull without her.”
He throws his hands up and shouts, “Then I’m gonna ask you again, why the fuck are you here? You should be with her! Fuckin’ hell, do I have to do everything?” he mutters, yanking out his phone. “McGhee’s not international but we can get you a connection… though depending on the layover time and how many transfers, it may be faster to just drive you to Nashville or Charlotte Douglas…”
“Hunt.”
“I wonder how quickly we can charter you a flight…”
“Hunter.”
“God, hearin’ you talk I thought maybe you’d learned your lesson. But no, your ass is still here with me and not with Tinsley.”
“Hunter!” I shout, finally getting him to look up from his phone.
“What?” he snaps. “I’m kind of busy plannin’ a grand gesture here.”
“I’ve already planned it,” I smile. “I leave for London on Tuesday.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. I’ve been coordinating it with Briar?—”
“You mean Satan’s mistress,” he interjects.
“—I’ll land Tuesday night and go with Tinsley to Paris. She’s always wanted to experience the city. We won’t have even 48 hours before she has to return to her schedule, but it’s enough time to make most of what she wants to do happen.”
“Well look at you, Romeo.”
“Shut up.” Hunter picks his phone back up and again starts searching. “Now what?”
“Where are you stayin’? You know what, it doesn’t matter, it says here the suite is available, so I know it’s not the Ritz. Text Barbie and tell her there’s been a change of plans. I’m booking the F. Scott Fitzgerald suite.”
“Hunter, after what I did in L.A., I can’t throw anymore?—”
“Oops, look at that, my hand slipped and I already paid. My bad.”
“You’re an ass.”
“I’m an ass who's gonna get you laid and wifed up in four days. Now tell me you’ve had Mom’s engagement ring cleaned recently.” Looking up, he raises a brow and says, “You are proposing, right? Because you can’t show up before she’s set to fly to the city of her dreams, take her to do all the things she’s probably been waitin’ to experience with you, and not propose.”
I rub my hands over my thighs and nod my head. “Yeah, and I’m nervous as hell about it.”
“Don’t be. She’s gonna say yes.”
“You don’t know that.”
“The whole reason she ran ten years ago was because of how desperately she wanted to say yes and marry you right then, her music career be damned. So yeah, I do know that. Now tell me what you’re plannin’ because after findin’ out you didn’t book the suite for the author of your favorite book, I’m thinkin’ I called you Romeo prematurely.”