Chapter 35
thirty-five
. . .
Archer
Winnie had been gone for ten days, and we’d had a hard time finding the time to talk these last few days because she was on the East Coast. The time difference was an issue, plus she was really busy, not to mention completely exhausted.
Melody and I were struggling because we missed her, but we put on a good front whenever we spoke to her.
It was remarkable that we’d existed for so long without Winnie in our lives, and now, ten days without her felt like some sort of cruel punishment.
I’d stopped calling as much and letting her call me when she had time.
I didn’t want to bother her or make her feel pressured. She’d finally opened up to me that she might need to travel again for a week or two after Melody’s birthday. I could hear the concern in her voice.
I needed to proceed carefully.
Her life was changing, and there might not be room in it for me and Melody.
I couldn’t fault her for that.
But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I was struggling with it. With not knowing what the future held.
There was a knock on my door, and I glanced at the time, surprised that anyone was stopping by this late, as it was almost ten p.m.
I pulled the door open, surprised to see Bridger standing there.
“It’s late. Are you all right?” I asked.
“I’m always all right.” He moved past me as if he owned the place and walked straight to the kitchen. He pulled two beers from the refrigerator and popped the tops before handing me one. “Is Melody asleep?”
“Yes. It’s almost ten o’clock at night—of course she’s asleep.”
“Ahh… I see someone forgot to take his anti-dick pill today.” He gave me a look. “What’s going on with you, Archie? Everyone’s noticed that you’re not yourself.”
“How the fuck am I not myself? Who the fuck else would I be?”
“For starters—let’s dissect that response. That’s something I would say. Why are you so on edge?”
“I’m not.” I scrubbed a hand down my face.
I was.
Of course I was.
Everything was unknown right now.
“The first step is admitting that there’s a problem,” he said with an evil grin on his face before he took a pull from his beer.
“Why do you seem like you’re enjoying this?” I hissed.
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Maybe because I’ve always been the problem child, and now I’m in therapy and dealing with my shit, so I can easily spot a fucked-up motherfucker better than anyone. And you, my friend… are a fucked-up motherfucker.”
“Are you drunk?”
“Drunk on life, maybe.” He winked in that condescending way that he knew would get under my skin. “And this is my first drink today. So stop deflecting, Archie. We’re talking about you, not me.”
“I’m fine.”
“Says any man who isn’t fine. For fuck’s sake, just tell me what’s going on.”
I exhaled sharply. “It’s nothing.”
“Really?” he said, pursing his lips. “You skipped Sunday dinner, and you’ve been MIA on the group texts.”
“So let me get this straight… I feel a little under the weather on Sunday and skip dinner, and that makes me a fucked-up motherfucker?”
“Don’t forget being MIA from the group texts,” he said as he moved to my pantry. He helped himself to a bag of potato chips before sitting back down at the kitchen island.
“I’ve got a child. I’m doing this all on my fucking own right now, dickhead. If you haven’t noticed, my girlfriend isn’t here at the moment, so how about you cut me some fucking slack.” My words came out much harsher than I’d expected.
“Ahh… there it is. Was that so difficult?”
“Was what so difficult? Telling you why I missed a meal and a few text messages?”
“Oh, Archie, you really are a fucked-up motherfucker.”
“And you’re an asshole,” I snipped before reaching for the chips and grabbing a few from the bag.
“Just admit that you miss your girl.”
“It’s no secret. Of course I miss her. But I’m happy for her. She’s doing amazing, and that’s great.”
He laughed. “You don’t need to put on a show for me. Of course she’s doing amazing. She’s a fucking rock star. But you are retreating because of some deep-rooted shit, and you need to figure it out. It’s not healthy to keep saying everything is fine when everything isn’t fine. You’re a mess.”
“Gee. Thanks. Tell me how you really feel.”
“If I tell you what I think, will you agree to do me a favor?”
“Sure.” I rolled my eyes.
“I think that Scarlet fucked you up a little bit.” He held up his hands when I started to argue.
“I know, I know, you don’t resent her choices.
You wanted a kid, and she didn’t, and you don’t hold that against her.
But that doesn’t mean that it didn’t fuck you up a little.
The woman you loved chose her career over you. ”
“For fuck’s sake. What is this? Some sort of demented therapy? I don’t resent Scarlet. She was honest about what she wanted, and so was I.”
“I know that. But I also know that she chose her career over you and over Melody. It’s her choice. Good on her. But that doesn’t mean that it didn’t fuck with your head when it comes to future relationships. Which is why you haven’t had one until now. And then guess the fuck what?”
“Please don’t make me. I already have a headache.” I rubbed my temples.
“Your girlfriend, whom you’re crazy about, is traveling the world because her career is blowing up. And that scares the shit out of you. So you’re doing what you do best—you’re suffering in silence and retreating into yourself.”
My eyes bulged out of my head. “Who the fuck are you? I feel like I’m talking to the Dalai Lama.”
“Hey, what can I say? I’m reading some self-help books and I’m doing a real deep dive into my fucked-up trauma. Boom. There you go.”
“Why?” I asked as I shook my head.
“Because I’d like to have a long life with my future wife, and we plan on having children, who I don’t want to fuck up with my cold jaded heart.
So I’m dealing with my shit.” He sighed.
Bridger’s mother had lost her life giving birth to him, and his biological father soon went off the rails due to grief, so Bridger was raised by his aunt and uncle, who were also my aunt and uncle.
He’d dealt with some serious trauma, and I’d been proud as hell of him for dealing with it head on after he’d fallen in love with Emilia. “And you need to deal with yours.”
I nodded. He wasn’t wrong. Fear was probably at the root of everything I was feeling right now.
“I’m happy for her, and I’m proud of her.” I blew out a breath, because it was the truth.
“I know you are, Archie. But she’s noticing it, too. She called Emilia this morning because she’s worried about you.”
“Fuck. That’s the last thing I wanted. I’m trying not to put pressure on her.
Not to tell her that I’m fucking lost without her.
I don’t want to hold her back, so I’m just trying to support her.
She’s got all these opportunities happening, and they just might take her in a different direction.
And I will not be the man who stands in her way.
I’m not that guy.” I stood and moved through the kitchen, then grabbed a glass and filled it with water to keep myself busy.
“There’s a big difference between being supportive and shutting down.
You’re shutting down. You’re letting fear take over, and you need to figure out why you’re doing that, or it won’t be her career that takes her away, it’ll be you who pushes her away.
You can’t just shut down when things are difficult. ”
I didn’t respond. He’d pissed me off, but I knew he wasn’t wrong.
“Okay.”
“Yeah?” he asked, then stood up and tossed his beer bottle in the recycling bin.
“Yep. I’ll work on it.”
“You’ll do more than work on it. You’ve got a meeting with Debbie, my therapist, tomorrow morning at eight a.m. Go straight there after you drop the little monster off at school.”
“I’ve got a meeting tomorrow morning,” I grumped as I followed him to the front door.
“Yes, you do. With Debbie. Everyone else can wait.” He pulled the door open and turned around to face me. “Will you just trust me on this?”
“Well, seeing as I’m a fucked-up motherfucker, I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” I said, my voice lighter now.
“Takes one to know one, buddy. Call me tomorrow after your meeting.” He held up a hand. “And start responding in the group chat, or you’re going to be getting more visits from other Chadwicks.”
“Got it.” I rolled my eyes as I watched him walk to the end of the driveway and turn toward his house. He lived close, and it was a nice night outside.
I exhaled and thought about calling Winnie, but I decided to wait.
I needed to figure my shit out before I talked to her.
And I was ready to make that happen.
I’d come three times this week to see Bridger’s therapist, Debbie, who was apparently my therapist now, because my asshole cousin had scheduled me for three sessions.
“Does that make sense to you, Archer?” Debbie asked.
“Sure. I mean, I guess I just didn’t realize that me being okay with what happened with Scarlet could still mess me up in other relationships. I respect that she knew what she wanted, and she was honest from the beginning. Or at least once she realized she was pregnant.”
“Yes, and you’ve told me that you don’t fault her for her decision to give up her rights as a mother,” she said.
“You’ve made that more than clear, but that doesn’t mean it still didn’t feel like a betrayal to you emotionally.
You were in love with her. You can understand someone’s reasons for leaving, and still be hurt by them. ”
I blew out a breath. “And you think that me not wanting a relationship for such a long time was because of fear.”
“I think you were protecting yourself, yes. And then you met Winnie, who was a big red flag to you, from what you’ve shared.” She chuckled.
“I hired her to be my nanny, not my girlfriend.” I snorted. “But yes, she wasn’t looking for anything, either, since she’d gone through a tough divorce, not to mention being a decade younger than me.”
“Nine years younger now, right?” She had a playful grin on her face, because I’d shared the inside joke with her.
I’d felt lighter this week than I had in a very long time, actually.
There’d been clarity where I hadn’t expected it.
Where I hadn’t even realized that I needed it.
“I see whose side you’re on now,” I said, chuckling.
“I’m on both of your sides.” She smiled and added, “The question is, are you willing to risk being vulnerable again? There are no guarantees in life, Archer. When you were dating Scarlet, you never had the discussion about children, correct?”
“Correct.”
“So when she found out she was pregnant, it forced the discussion. And you realized you both wanted different things. It hurt, but you made your choice, and she made hers.”
“Yes.”
“With Winnie, it sounds like it’s very different,” she said.
“You started off being cautious and careful, but there were feelings there. And you took your time and became friends first. And you’ve mentioned that you two talk about everything.
What you want out of life. Your hopes and your dreams. All of those things. ”
“We do. She’s very honest and genuine. It’s impossible not to talk to her about things most of the time. She sort of makes me talk.” I laughed.
“That’s a good thing. And it helps to build trust, which is why I think you were able to finally put your guard down.”
I nodded. “Trust isn’t the issue.”
“Right. The issue is fear, Archer. You see these things happening for her, and I know it’s a mixed emotion for you.
I don’t doubt that you’re thrilled for her and that you’re her biggest cheerleader.
You’ve made it clear that you don’t want to pressure her in any way, but my guess is that you’re hurting her in a different way. ”
“How?” I asked, clasping my hands together, knowing she was right but hating it at the same time.
“You’ve put your guard back up. You’re retreating into yourself for self-preservation,” she said, her voice softer now. “And I’m sure that’s hurting her. You shared that you’ve been distant with her.”
“I know she’s busy. I don’t want to burden her.”
“Is it a burden when she calls you?” she asked as she studied me.
“No. I look forward to talking to her.”
“So why would it burden her if you called her?”
I rubbed my face. “I don’t know.”
“Let me ask you this,” she said, setting her pen down on the notepad that rested on her lap. “Winnie’s career has already taken off, yet she’s checking in with you constantly, even when she’s exhausted, right?”
“Yes.”
“So why would that end if she continues to have success?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she’ll want to live somewhere else. Start a different life,” I said before clearing my throat.
“Has she talked about wanting to relocate?”
“No.” I shrugged.
“All right, so let’s just recap a few things.” She tilted her head to the side.
“Okay.” I nodded.
“Winnie sort of told you that she loved you when she left.” She put her hands up to stop the rebuttal that she knew would follow that statement.
“She said a casual ‘love ya,’ but you and I both know what that meant. She was working up the nerve to say ‘I love you’ and panicked, and you didn’t say it back.
Instead you told her not to worry about you guys, and you’ve talked to her while she’s been away, but certainly not as much as you normally speak.
She’s shared with Emilia that she’s worried about you, so she’s clearly noticed.
Can you imagine from her perspective how this might seem? ”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, it sounds like you’re the one who’s one foot out the door, not her.
She shared how she felt, or at least she tried to.
She’s put herself out there. She’s telling you that she feels anxious about being away from you, and you continue to tell her it’s going to be fine, instead of admitting that you’re also struggling. You’re the one who hasn’t been honest.”
“I made her father a promise that I would never hold her back,” I reminded her, because we’d already discussed that conversation.
“So not telling her how you feel, not being responsive—that’s your way of making sure that you don’t hold her back?
I don’t think so, Archer. I think you’re holding back because you’re afraid she’ll hurt you.
And at some point, you’ve got to take a risk.
I guess the million-dollar question is, is she worth the risk? ”
I didn’t hesitate. “She’s more than fucking worth it. I’m madly in love with her.”
She smiled. “Okay. You’ve told me how you feel, how about you tell her how you feel.”
I nodded. “I can do that.”
“It’s the first step to putting your past behind you and moving forward toward the future that you want.”
She was right.
It was time.