19. Archer
Chapter nineteen
Archer
Present
D ear Seb,
I am the biggest asshole on the planet. You’re probably saying, ‘I knew that years ago,’ but I finally made sure Tilly knew it too. Oh my god what did I do! Fuck! I don’t know what to do, bro. I did something, and I know if you were here, you’d punch me in the balls. I deserve it, too. Hell, I busted my knuckles trying to inflict as much pain on myself as I could.
I let a moment where Tilly was vulnerable turn into something it shouldn’t have, but the feeling of her warm body curved around mine was too tempting. She smelled like lemons. Her hair brushed against my beard when I helped her lay down the wood, and I swore I heard her moan. Like, literally moan. I tried to keep my body as far from her as possible while I helped but then she nearly collapsed, and I couldn’t stop myself from wrapping my arm around her stomach and pulling her into me.
Her body came alive under my touch, and her ass moved back into my territory. You remember what that’s like, right? I was instantly stiff the moment I heard her moan, but then she pressed into me hard and I lost all coherent thought. I wanted needed her to feel what she was doing to me.
She came to her senses much faster than I did and ran to the bathroom. It took me a few moments to situate myself and gain my bearings, but I went after her. I pressed my ear to the door, worried she was crying and trying to figure out if I should go in and console her or pretend like it never happened. But that’ s not what was happening in that bathroom, bro. She moaned my name and it went directly to my dick. I was no good after that. Hell, I basically ran out of there like I was being chased by an axe murderer.
What do I do? What the hell do I do? I can’t go back into that bakery and look at her without hearing the way she moaned my name echoing through my brain. That’s Jessie’s wife. And I know you don’t want to hear this, but my cock doesn’t care. It doesn’t care that my heart twists, stabbing me through every single time I think about her, even when it’s not a sexual thought. It screams, ‘if you weren’t scared, she would’ve been yours,’ but I know it’s not true. And even if it was, she wouldn’t be available to me.
I’ve done enough damage to our relationship that there’s no way Tilly could look at me and not see all the hurt I’ve caused her. Realistically, I know her body reacted to me, not her head, but it still created a sliver of hope that she wanted me. That I hadn’t ruined any chance of making her mine. But I don’t deserve her, and even though I re-flipped your chip, it still lands on tails. You still don’t think I deserve her either.
I came home and obliterated a thirty pack over two days, leaving her to work at the bakery alone. I was too ashamed. And maybe if I keep pushing her away, like I have been since she and Jessie got together, she’ll eventually stop talking to me altogether, and it won’t hurt so much when I actually do leave.
That’s not true. It’s going to hurt like a bitch, but as with all wounds, sometimes to heal, you gotta put pressure on it and suffer through the pain. And it’ll be painful to let her go, but it’ll help me stop hurting her in the long run.
Now that I’ve confessed, I wish I could say I feel better, but you’re a terrible ghost priest. You don’t talk back, you make me talk and tell you all my secrets, but you couldn’t even trust me with yours. I wish I could say I forgive you, but I don’t. I’m still mad as hell. More at myself than you, but still a whole bunch toward you.
Anyway, I meant to write this to let you know how my recent interview went. I’m supposed to meet with the producers in Knoxville in the middle of next month. There was another guy and a couple there to interview before me, but they were more focused on flipping houses instead of carpentry work. We still haven’t been told what the show will be about exactly, but I have an inkling it’ll be a competition-based show, or maybe we’ll be consulting on big projects like Ty from Extreme Home Makeover.
The next meeting isn’t until mid-November, so I just have to make it through a few more Sunday dinners before I leave for good, whether or not I get the job. Nora asks me weekly if I’ve heard anything, and each time it breaks my heart. I know they’ll come visit, but I’ll miss having the access to them that I do now. I haven’t told Mom or Dad yet, but I doubt they’ll care. Claire is the only one who shows a modicum of attention to me, and even that is behind Dad’s back.
One of these days he’ll realize I’m not a fuck-up. That my work is just as important and worthy of praise as their craft. It probably won’t be any time soon, but it’ll happen. And I know you’ll be smiling up in Heaven when I tell him to shove it. Miss you man.
-Arch