24. Allie
ALLIE
“I’m going to pass out,” Willow says, her head lulling against my shoulder as we rock together on her parents’ porch swing. “That second piece of pie was a mistake.”
“Pie is never a mistake,” I say.
“You’re right. You’re right.” She fits her hand between my back and the cushion of the swing, rubbing my spine. “How are you feeling?”
I give her a close-lipped smile. “Better. I promise.”
I broke down earlier after leaving the Ramoses’ house. I knew, deep down, I couldn’t blame Zander for questioning things. For all he knew, I did have another boyfriend at the start of July, and as far as everyone except Willow was concerned, I went back to Declan after Archer left for Texas.
I didn’t tell anyone else I broke up with him until we finalized things a few weeks later.
I also had never told anyone that I’ve only had sex with Archer. I wanted to so many times. I wanted to tell him or Willow, but it never felt right sharing something with Willow that I wouldn’t want Archer to know, and I never could bring myself to tell him.
The entire reason Archer and I never tried long distance was because he wanted me to live. To have every experience, and I was afraid of him knowing I failed—afraid it’d become another reason for him to say we can’t be together.
I’ve had sexual experiences with other guys, but I never let them enter me. It felt too intimate, like something that should only ever belong to Archer. I’ve tried to take that step before, with Declan even, but every time I almost went there, I backed away. It felt wrong.
Archer pushed me away when we were in high school, told me to go off and live. So…I tried. I pretended I was. I let everyone around me believe that, and ultimately, it led to the paternity of my fucking child being questioned.
I was devastated and humiliated. I made it halfway down the driveway when I realized I’d told everyone I was going to the bathroom and that I had no clue where I was actually headed.
My parents took me to the beach, and we walked together for a long while.
I dumped out every fear and feeling that’s been building in my bones for the past six weeks.
They comforted me, reassured me, promised me they’d hold my hand through every obstacle that’s barreling toward me. I felt so much lighter when we were done. I’ve somehow convinced myself that I’m battling this journey on my own, and I don’t know why.
When we got to Darby and Leo’s house, most of the family had already arrived—and I was quickly reminded that that’s exactly who these people are to me: my family.
Dahlia apologized and reassured me she believed me, that she’d support us both. Zander hugged me tightly, voice shaking as he whispered his apology and his promise that he would be here for whatever I needed.
The news had quickly spread to everyone else, and I was met with nothing but congratulations and genuine excitement. If anyone else is as scared as I am to see me as a mother, they hide it damn well.
Except Livia, Lou’s wife.
They’re still in Costa Rica, but video called at dinner to chat with us, and when Archer and I let them know the news, Lou perked up and said she was excited.
Liv’s eyes bugged out and she muttered something like, “Ninos teniendo hijos. Esto es una locura,” which Archer later translated for me as, “Kids having kids. You’re crazy. ”
Though brash, we give Livia a pass because she was fifteen when she lost both parents in a car crash, and she and her older brother were left to care for their six younger siblings.
She’s lived through the experience of raising children young and unexpectedly, and it’s understandable that it would jar her to see it happen to Archer too.
But for me, the reaction from everyone else solidified my building confidence that we can do this. That we’re surrounded by love and support.
Archer and I on the other hand…we haven’t spoken.
It’s been too chaotic. Too many people wanting to ask a million questions and see my bump. Every time I look at him, I only see the expression in his eyes from earlier this morning—that lack of trust that told me he couldn’t say for certain that he believed the baby was his.
That he didn’t want to know.
Not that he didn’t need to know.
That broke me, and I don’t know how to face him now. There is so much we need to do and figure out and prepare for, but it feels as if there is nothing left to say. If he can’t trust me…there is nothing left to talk about in regard to a relationship between us.
Yet the thought of being nothing more than a co-parent with Archer causes a deep, debilitating ache to throb in my chest. A kind of dread that seizes my bones and constricts my lungs.
How the fuck am I supposed to sit here, knowing I’m creating an entire life with the person I love most in the world, and we still might not be able to make it work when the dust settles.
He’s always been the right person, but it’s always been the wrong time—and now, I wonder if we’ve taken so many steps backward that we’ve ruined ourselves for good. My mind isn’t capable of envisioning a future like that.
It fucking decimates me.
“Allie?” Archer’s soft voice cuts through my thoughts, and Willow and I turn our gaze from the sunset to find him standing in the doorway of the house. “Do you feel okay? Can I get you anything?”
“Actually, yeah.” I yawn, feeling more bloated and overextended than I already do with this pregnancy. “I need Tums or something. I swear to God the heartburn is going to kill me.”
“Okay, I’ll go get you some. Then…” His eyes flash to his cousin. “Could we talk after?”
I nod, and he returns inside.
Willow rubs my back again. “You guys will figure it out. I have faith.” She wraps me in a hug, kissing the top of my head. “If you two aren’t meant to be, then none of us are.”
Yesterday morning after Archer went back to his parents’ house before my doctor’s appointment, I called Willow in tears.
I told her he found out in the worst way, and that he looked at me like he didn’t know who I was.
That I’d hoped once he knew, it’d lift the dense fog shadowing my mind all these weeks.
I’d finally find clarity, but that didn’t happen.
After today, I feel even farther cast in shadow.
“I love you. Come find me later, okay? Weston and I are sleeping in the guesthouse tonight so we’ll be around.”
“I love you too,” I murmur just as the French doors creak open again. Archer and Willow trade places as he hands me a glass of water and two antacids.
We sit shoulder-to-shoulder, but he doesn’t caress or comfort me like he typically would. The sun falls into the Pacific beyond us, but it’s low enough now that it’s no longer blinding. It’s just cool enough for a light sweater as the sea breeze whispers against my cheeks, but not at all cold.
“I didn’t know,” he says so softly it’s hardly audible over the rustling of the palms. “I didn’t know it was only me.”
I huff a laugh. “It’s only ever been you, Archer.”
His body shuffles beside me, and I glance up to find him turned toward me, blue eyes burning through mine. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“Why did you wait so long to tell me?” I whisper, voice hollow.
He chews his cheek, gaze falling as he shrugs. “I quickly realized I wasn’t capable of being with someone else without wishing she was you, so I just…stopped trying. I didn’t want you to know because I didn’t want to hurt you. I thought you’d been with other people.”
“Nope,” I say, popping the end of the word as I rock my heels back and forth, making the swing move.
“You told me you wanted me to have all the experiences, and I thought that if I failed at that, you’d find more reasons for us not to be together, so…
” I pause, waiting until he lifts his eyes to mine again. “I let you believe otherwise.”
He scoffs, shaking his head before he drops his face into his hands, muttering, “It feels like we’ve been walking in circles for years, and now I’m so goddamn dizzy I don’t know which direction we’re supposed to be moving in.”
“I think we were moving in different directions,” I say. “Now we created some kind of fucked up whirlpool—like the ones we made as kids when your parents had that inflatable pool in the backyard—and I’m trying not to drown in it.”
He nods, face still hidden in his palms. “I won’t let you drown.
” Sitting up, Archer turns to me again. His eyes are guarded in a way they’ve never been when boring into mine.
It fractures something essential inside me.
“I’m going to take care of you,” he continues, gaze dropping to my stomach, and I can’t tell if it’s said out of love or obligation.
It kills me.
He can guard his gaze and put up walls, but it doesn’t change the fact that I know him better than he knows himself.
I know what he intends to say next, so I stop the words before they can surface.
“You’re going back to Texas tomorrow. Your mom already booked a flight. You leave in the morning. Early.”
When Dahlia pulled me aside earlier, I made her promise not to let Archer give up football.
Not yet, anyway. He has to see this season through.
Has to go through the draft. Whatever happens after, we’ll figure it out, but I won’t let him throw this away.
I can’t let him get worked up about whether to take opportunities he hasn’t even achieved yet.
We need to get him to the finish line before he can choose whether or not to cross over it.
Even though I’ll make him do that too.
Even if it means giving up my dreams, the place I live that I love so much.
“Allie, I can’t just leave you here. You don’t understand.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “It’s… I… I have to be… I can’t miss the pregnancy. Any more of it.”
I bristle at the accusation in his tone.
“It’s only a few more weeks,” I murmur. “The pregnancy is nine months, an entire life that follows after it.” He lifts his head, blinking at me.
“The best thing you can do for this baby, Archer, is go back to Texas. Finish your season, prepare for the draft, and become the best goddamn quarterback in the league. Think of the life you could give them if you just…don’t give up. ”
He shakes his head, like he’s about to argue further, but I push on.
“Be angry with me. Look at me like I’m a stranger.
Convince me that if I had told you all those weeks ago when I came to Texas, you would’ve made it work.
You would’ve stayed, finished out your season.
You would’ve made a plan, and that I kept this from you for no good reason.
” I lift from the swing, spinning around to stand between his legs.
Bending over, I take his face in my hands.
“Make me a villain if you need to, just don’t prove me right. ”
His eyes shutter, breath catching on his slightly parted lips. I study his face—his blazing blue eyes and full mouth and the narrow ridge of his nose. I think he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, and I hope our child looks exactly like him—is exactly like him.
Despite all the discomfort and distrust between us at this moment, when I study his gaze, all I feel is an all-consuming love. It’s a heart-wrenching dichotomy.
I want to kiss him, touch and feel and absorb him. I’m hollowed out and left empty at the lack of warmth that used to blaze through my body when he looked at me. His stare is so vacant now.
I drop my forehead to his anyway, brushing my nose over his cheek. I plant my lips at his jaw, whispering, “I love you so much,” before pulling back, throat tightening with the rising emotion I know will leave me in spades when I’m alone later. “Happy Birthday.”
I step away, reaching for the door, when he asks, “What about your dreams? Grad school? Traveling? My mom’s bakery?”
I shrug. “You sacrifice the present, and I’ll sacrifice the future.”
“Allie,” he rasps, but I don’t respond, leaving him behind as I return inside the house.