Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Leo
When I wake up the next morning, Archie is still asleep next to me. He’s curled toward me, one hand tucked under his cheek, the other resting on my hip. His lips are slightly parted. He looks younger like this. More vulnerable.
I watch him breathe for longer than I’d ever admit to before I finally wrench myself away.
I find my clothes and head to the kitchen.
One of Archie’s crutches is propped by the bedroom door.
The other is still by the front entrance where he left it yesterday.
He’s been favoring a single crutch for short distances over the past few days, which means he’s been hopping around the apartment with one hand free, making coffee, reaching for things. Getting stronger.
His ankle is healing. The cast will come off. And then there’s no broken bone keeping me here. Just a broken truth I still haven’t told him.
What will Archie say if he finds out that I intentionally injured him, thinking he was Vaughn? I should tell him. Every day that passes without the truth makes it worse.
But every day I spend with him makes it harder to risk losing this.
Elizabeth is seated at the kitchen table, teacup in hand, watching me approach with an expression I can’t quite read.
Shit. I hope we weren’t too loud last night. I wasn’t exactly focused on monitoring the noise level. I sheepishly run a hand across my stubble.
“Is Archibald still asleep?” Elizabeth asks.
“Yeah, he’s dead to the world.”
“Good. He needs the rest.” She gestures to the chair across from her. “Sit. I’ll make you tea.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I’m making you tea, Leo.”
It’s not a question, so I sit.
She bustles around the kitchen, a woman who’s used to being in charge of any space she occupies. She sets a cup in front of me and reclaims her seat.
I take a sip of my tea and almost spit it back out. Why do the British enjoy this so much?
“I guess this is my chance to ask you about your intentions with my godson,” Elizabeth says.
Now I wish I’d taken longer savoring my mouthful of tea, so I have an excuse not to answer her. Because what the hell do I say to that?
“My intention is to be the best boyfriend I can be,” I say carefully.
Elizabeth’s unimpressed look doesn’t flicker.
“Do you understand how truly unique Archibald’s mind is?”
Oh, trust me, I completely understand the uniqueness of Archie’s mind. Even before my discovery last night, I knew I’d never met anyone like Archie.
“Of course I do,” I say. “But it’s not just his mind that is unique.”
She narrows her gaze. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, it’s his personality too, his sense of humor, his kindness. He’s unique in so many ways, and he’s so much more than just his intellect.”
The crease lines in Elizabeth’s forehead smooth out. “You’re right. He is. I’m glad you see that.”
“Of course I see that.”
“Good.” She takes a sip of her tea. “He needs someone who sees the real him, not just the performance.”
I’m not sure how to respond to that.
But something about the way she says performance snags at me. She’s not just talking about Archie being guarded. Her words indicate that there’s a specific reason he learned to hide.
And my curiosity to understand Archie overcomes the part of me that knows I shouldn’t be asking questions I might not want the answers to.
“Has he always been like this?” I ask. “Keeping people at a distance?”
Elizabeth regards me over the rim of her teacup. “What has he told you about his family?”
I swallow hard. I have my own reasons for avoiding venturing too far into the territory of Archie’s family.
I turn the teacup slowly on its saucer. The scrape of porcelain is the only sound in the kitchen.
“He hasn’t told me much,” I admit.
Elizabeth nods slowly, like this confirms something she already suspected.
“His parents are beside themselves, as you can imagine. Archibald had the world at his feet, and suddenly, he announced he didn’t want to complete his postdoctoral research and was quitting academia.
“His parents tried to force his hand by cutting off his financial support. It went about as well as you’d expect with someone as stubborn as Archibald.”
I think of Archie’s bedsit, of his gigs as a dog walker and children’s entertainer.
I can’t imagine the courage it took for him to walk away from all financial support purely because he wanted to live life on his own terms.
“He’s been doing fine on his own,” I say loyally.
Elizabeth stirs her cup of tea.
“I’m not sure that he is,” she says.
“What do you mean by that?”
She settles her cup of tea back in its saucer before meeting my gaze.
“His mother has been my best friend since college, and I don’t want to say bad things about her behind her back, but in hindsight, I don’t think they handled things very well with Archibald growing up.
I’m concerned it has had a lasting effect on him. ”
“What things didn’t they handle well?”
“Archibald was a…different kid. He was actually slow to learn to speak, did you know? And he seemed to be in his own dream world most of the time. And then, suddenly, in sixth grade, he won a national math award—a high-school level one. Followed it up a month later by winning a national essay competition.”
I blink. “Math and English?”
Her forehead creases. “Hasn’t Archibald mentioned he’s a polymath genius and how unusual that is?
“We…ah, haven’t discussed specifics. It’s not something he likes to talk about.”
Her suspicious look fades. “Yes, he’s always been very modest. But his type of ability is extremely rare. And you can imagine how his parents reacted when they realized his full potential.”
“Everything became about Archie,” I say.
“Yes. Almost overnight. And of course there was his older brother Vaughn. Has he told you much about Vaughn?”
I try not to flinch at the sound of Vaughn’s name.
“Not much.” I keep my voice neutral.
“Well, Vaughn used to be Evie and Henry’s golden child. He was such a wonderful big brother, always letting Archibald tag along and protecting him when he was picked on.”
I know. I know exactly what kind of guy Vaughn seemed to be. Charming, capable, the kind of person you’d trust without thinking twice.
“What happened?” I ask.
“What do you think happened? Vaughn got lost in the shadows. He went from being his parents’ pride and joy to being an afterthought.”
Through the kitchen window, the street is starting to come alive. A jogger passes. A dog walker. Normal morning things happening in a normal world while mine quietly rearranges itself.
I don’t want to feel sorry for Vaughn. I don’t.
But I have to admit there is a tinge of something inside me that almost feels like sympathy. I think about having been used to being the center of your parents’ attention, and then being slowly erased by someone who didn’t even know they were doing it.
“There was just so much focus on Archibald,” Elizabeth continues. “All these expectations, which I suppose goes along with the kind of gifts he has. But I’m not surprised this has happened, to be honest. That Archibald has walked away from it all.”
She meets my gaze. “Has he talked to you about it?”
I feel like the biggest fraud in the world. She’s telling me about Archie’s family like I’m someone who deserves to know, like I’m his real boyfriend.
Not a man who came into his life through an act of revenge against his brother.
“No, he hasn’t really opened up much about it,” I say honestly.
“I’m not surprised. He’s always been a closed book about his emotions. The only person he ever really opened up to fully was Vaughn.”
Something tightens in my chest. “And that changed?”
“Yes, that changed. I’m not sure exactly what happened, but I do know they stopped speaking even before Archibald’s rupture with his parents.”
I think back to what I knew of Vaughn. Before he’d stolen my idea, he’d seemed like a good guy.
He’d been a little slick, a little preppy, but something else about him had drawn me to him.
He’d had a good sense of humor. But there also seemed to be a vulnerable edge to him that he hid behind his bravado, traces of authenticity that came out in small moments, making him seem different from the other guys on our team.
Maybe that was what I’d struggled with the most about his betrayal after he stole my idea. That I couldn’t trust my instincts about people.
It’s one thing I’d prided myself on as a poor kid going through a rich education system. At least I had street smarts compared to these guys. I could read people better.
But Vaughn had proved it was just a myth.
Because I’d gotten him so, so wrong.
Elizabeth is now telling me there was more to Vaughn than I realized.
“It must have been hard on Archie to lose that,” I say.
Elizabeth regards me seriously. “I think the last year has been incredibly tough on him, even though he might try to hide it. But he seems happy with you, which is reassuring.”
“I’ve only met a few previous boyfriends of his, but things between you seem…different.”
My stomach hollows. “Different in what way?”
Has she realized our relationship is fake? But she’d accuse me of that plainly, wouldn’t she? Elizabeth is a straight shooter.
I make myself meet her eyes, and find she’s studying me thoughtfully.
“Archibald seems to have always attracted men who wanted the reflected glory of his genius or men with agendas who thought a relationship with him would enhance their reputation. And Archibald…well, to be frankly honest, he ran rings around both of those types. But you don’t seem to fit into either category. ”
Men with agendas.
I pick up my cup of tea so I have something to do with my hands.
“He seems…happier with you than with any of the previous boyfriends.” There’s something suspicious in her tone, almost like she’s not sure about whether that’s a good thing or not.
I don’t know what to make of that fact.
Is Archie happier with me? Is it just because this is a fake relationship, not a real one, so he’s not as invested? Is he happy because he’s just playing the part of the pretend boyfriend, where he can subtly taunt me and have fun?
Or is there something else there?
Because I can’t help thinking about the ways Archie is making me happier than I’ve ever been. The way we seem to fit together.
I’ve always shied away from relationships. Every relationship I’ve had has ended when the people wanted more than I was prepared to give.
Growing up, I witnessed the devastation a bad relationship can cause. Not just to the people in the relationship, but to everyone in the explosion zone. My siblings and I had been caught in the crossfire of our parents’ dysfunctional relationship.
But this thing with Archie started because I was guilt-ridden, and then it morphed into a fake relationship. I’ve been so focused on cracking his defenses that I’ve forgotten about my own.
Because he’s snuck his way into a place inside me where I don’t think anyone else has ever resided.
I don’t want to examine very closely how badly Archie Mansley has wormed his way into my affections because I won’t like the answer.
I want all his secrets. I want to know everything about him.
I meant what I said to him last night. He’s the most fascinating person I’ve ever met.
And I’m aware that this feeling is dangerous.
Especially since, for Archie, this is all a bit of fun. He made that clear when I tried to confess to him about Vaughn, about his accident.
He doesn’t want to know my secrets the way I want to know his.
Just as I’m thinking that, Archie wanders out in his pajamas, sleep-rumpled and hair mussed. The atmosphere in the kitchen rearranges itself around him, the way it always does. Like every room he walks into was just a room until he got there.
“Good morning,” he says.
He shuffles over to me, and I automatically stand to wrap an arm around him, kissing the side of his head.
His hair smells of pillows, sleep, and softness, and it takes everything I have to release him.
“Coffee?” I ask.
“Sure.”
I move to make him a cup with sugar and creamer, just how he likes it.
“Here.”
He takes it from me and takes a sip, then meets my gaze above the brim of the cup, giving me a small smile.
I can’t help smiling back at him.
I could argue that I’m just doing the fake-relationship thing because this is how you should greet your boyfriend. I could argue that this is still about fooling Elizabeth.
But I get the feeling that the main person I’m fooling right now is myself.