22. Archer
ARCHER
I wish I had a stronger vocabulary. Perhaps then I’d have a way to describe the sensation barreling through my veins.
Allie holds me against her, sitting on the floor of her apartment, the door still wide open.
Her chest rises and falls with heavy breath, heartbeat steady against my ear.
I’m unraveled entirely at the realization that it isn’t the only heartbeat happening inside her body.
There is something else existing between the two of us right now.
I’ve always believed I was created to love Allie Evans. I thought I’d never know another type of destiny—like my atoms and bones and blood were developed with her in mind. I entered the world in search of her, and I thought I’d never experience a closeness more intense than being born in love.
Until now.
I thought I felt my DNA alter completely the first time I entered Allie’s body. I thought there could be no connection deeper than that—than joining that way when it wasn’t just our physical beings opening to each other, but the baring of our entire souls.
I never could’ve imagined the feeling that could bloom inside me at the sight of her expanding with our child. That raw love and desire and all-consuming adornment I poured into her became stuck there—creating something permanent. An entire soul.
Yet, when the reality settles, and I remember this growing soul is something she kept from me—that she’s been struggling, in pain, hospitalized, with no intention to involve me—it’s as if Allie’s taken a sledgehammer to a carefully constructed glass sculpture of my wildest dreams.
“How long have you known?” I ask, fucking terrified of the answer.
“Can we get in bed?”
I nod against her chest, removing my palm from her stomach for the first time.
I slowly stand, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet.
I shut the door as she pads back to her bed, crawling beneath the covers.
I get in next to her, my hand immediately falling back to her stomach when she rolls to her side.
I wonder if I’ll ever be able to stop touching it.
I assume it’s too early, but I keep hoping I’ll feel movement—confirmation it’s all real.
“I’m sixteen weeks along,” she whispers.
“My—our—du-due date is April twenty-ninth.” Her voice shakes between words.
“I found out at around ten weeks. I was feeling nauseous and fatigued, but I thought it was just because I’d been so busy.
Not resting enough.” She shudders. “I had an appointment with my doctor to replace my birth control implant, which I thought was still protecting me, but…” She coughs a broken laugh. “Nope. I was pregnant.”
“And… And what?” I ask, gruff. “They did an ultrasound then? How did they know how far along you were? When was this?”
My gaze remains fixed on her stomach, thumb brushing back and forth across her skin. A small cherry pendant dangles from her belly button ring.
I hear her throat work with a swallow before she adds, “The last time I had sex was the night before you left, so I assumed…I had my first ultrasound two weeks after that appointment, and they confirmed I was three months along, so the timing lined up.”
My mind reels back, remembering that night we were together. We didn’t use protection—we never do. I’ve never had sex with anyone else, and Allie told me if we ever needed to use condoms, she’d let me know.
I do rough math in my mind, thinking to ten weeks later, when Allie would’ve found out.
I suck in a breath, eyes flashing up to hers.
So much fucking guilt swirls inside her dark irises. The contrition floating there burns through me, leaving a hole in my chest that’s wide and gaping. “When did you find out you were pregnant with our baby, Allie?”
Her face crumbles, rough tears taking over as she shakes her head—like she’s begging me to absolve her of the responsibility to answer this question.
“Tell me when you knew you were going to make me a father,” I rasp, voice strained and shattered.
“October eleventh,” she croaks.
The night of my game against Alabama.
The sour taste of betrayal coats the roof of my mouth, tendrils of treason wrapping around my throat and choking me tight. I’m staring at the face I know better than any other—the very representation of love and adoration, and…all I feel is numb.
I might as well be looking at a fucking stranger.
Flashes of memory flutter through my mind—she was nauseous, wouldn’t drink, throwing up. Late-night craving for corn dogs and refusing to change her clothes in front of me.
The signs were there. She fucking knew.
“You slept in my bed, with my baby in your belly, and didn’t tell me.”
“Archer.” She clamps a hand over her mouth, muffling her sobs as tears stream heavy down her devastated face.
I sit up, swinging my legs off her bed as my head falls between my knees. I can’t bear to look at her.
I’ve held Allie through a lot of reckless decisions and impulsive choices throughout her life, and I’ve never judged her for a goddamn thing, but this…
“Why would you do this to me, Allie?” I turn around, forcing her to look into my eyes—see how much she’s fucking destroying me.
“Why didn’t you want me to know? Because you didn’t want this? Didn’t want me?”
She shakes her head rapidly, rising to her knees. “No, Archer. No. You’re not understanding.” She crawls forward, moving to place a hand on my shoulder, but I shake away from her touch before she has the chance. “I didn’t tell you to protect you, and your future.”
“Protect me? My future?” I stand, pointing at her stomach. “That is my future!”
“That’s my point!” she yells. “I knew. I knew you’d drop everything and come home. You’d have this impenetrable compulsion to take care of me. You’d give up everything you’ve worked so hard for—everything we’ve kept ourselves apart for and I couldn’t—”
“It’s mine to give,” I growl, blinded by this fucked-up fury burning through my veins. “It’s my future, and my hard work to give up. My decision to make.”
“Bullshit,” she seethes through gritted teeth. Allie’s eyes have caught flame, playing a fierce kind of defense. “I’ve sacrificed for your future too, Archer. I refuse to let you throw it away now.”
“You didn’t even give me the chance to figure it out.
” My tone is calmer, dulled. All the fight fell out of me, because there is no seeing past this pain right now.
The entire foundation I’ve spent my existence building with Allie has turned to ashes at my feet, and that is only the surface of the weight now settling on my shoulders.
Do our parents know? They can’t. They wouldn’t keep this from me.
“Look at you, Archer,” Allie whispers. “Look at what you did when you found out. Have you even slept since Zander called? Did you go directly to the airport? Did you come directly here from the airport? What about practice? Finals? Your game Saturday? Look how quickly you dropped it all.”
“God forbid I put you first,” I mutter through my exhale. “You didn’t give me much choice.”
“I love you,” she rasps, voice thick with conviction. “I love you for putting me first. I love how you love me, so much so that I knew, without question, you’d change your entire life for this…” Her hand falls to her belly. “Even to your detriment.”
My jaw tightens. I know she’s not wrong. Still… I believe if she’d told me that night in October, I would’ve found a way to balance it all.
Instead, she fucking lied.
“I can’t…” I wipe a hand down my face. “I can’t talk about this right now. I… Who knows, Allie? Besides my brother.”
She sighs defeatedly, falling back into a sitting position on her mattress as I pace the floor in front of her bed. “Willow.”
I pause. “That’s it?”
“I wasn’t going to tell anyone until I told you.”
“How thoughtful,” I murmur. “We need to tell them.”
“Don’t you think we should…figure out a plan first?”
Like what?
“I think right now the plan needs to be to tell our parents so that they can help us. We don’t know what the fuck we’re doing, and the last thing I want is for you to end up in the hospital again, or worse.”
“When do you plan on going back to Texas?” she asks.
“I don’t know.” I run a hand through my hair. “If I want to play on Saturday, I need to be back by Friday afternoon. I told my coach there was a family emergency, and since tomorrow is Thanksgiving, we get the day off anyway.”
She nods, biting her lower lip. A wave of guilt rushes through me at the weary look on her face.
She appears so drained, and I imagine this conversation is responsible for much of that.
I imagine the burden of carrying this on her own the last month and a half has taken its toll too, and despite everything, I want to fix it all.
Cocoon her in my arms and hold her until all discomfort has left her body.
But I’m so fucking angry with her it blurs my vision—a haze of heartache I’m having trouble seeing past.
“I have a doctor’s appointment at eleven. They’ll be doing an ultrasound.” Her eyes flick to mine. “Do… Do you want to come? See the baby?”
My jaw tightens at the realization that this experience won’t be new to her, but I nod.
“My mom and dad are driving down here for Thanksgiving tomorrow. We’re having it at the Graham’s. I can ask them to come down early and we can meet with both of our parents before dinner?”
“All right.” I sigh. This is…awkward. It’s never been this way between us before, and it is fucking painful. “I need to head home and shower. I can pick you up before the appointment?”
“You can shower here,” she offers, voice low and sad. “Stay?”
I shake my head, chest cracking when her pretty face drops in disappointment. “I need a couple hours, Allie. I…” I breathe. “I just need some time. I’m going to order a car back to my parents’. I’ll grab my Jeep and come get you in a little while.”
She only nods.
I stalk to the front door before slipping my shoes on. As I grasp the handle, Allie calls out, “I’m sorry, Archer. I thought I was doing what was best at the time, but I see now that was a mistake.”
I can’t bring myself to respond before I step into the stairwell, leaving her behind.