43. Archer
Chapter forty-three
Archer
Present
B eer bottles clink and roll around as I manage to sit up and take in my surroundings. It’s dark, and when my hands meet the cold floor, I shiver as the frigid air leaks beneath the office door. I couldn’t sleep in the bed where she belonged beside me, nor on the couch where we should’ve been laughing, cuddled up together by the fire.
I let her believe she wasn’t worth the fight.
Heat wasn’t a luxury I deserved last night.
My spine cracks when I get off the ground and flip the switch, fluorescent light burning my eyes. Out in the main garage, I prattle about, organizing things to try and keep my mind off the woman I should’ve woken up beside.
The metal worktop vibrates as my phone buzzes, jangling wrenches and bolts along the surface. Outside of calling Shantel last night to check on Tilly after she refused to answer my call, I haven’t talked to anyone. I couldn’t even tell Shantel how bad I messed up. She made me promise to give Tilly the space to deal with what happened.
Dark clouds move quickly overhead when I open the garage doors. A gust of wind pushes me back inside, a warning of an incoming storm. I laugh at the irony. My life has turned into a hurricane of bad decisions, and those decisions ruined everything.
I ruined everything .
My hands itch to grab my keys, to drive to Tilly’s house and beg her to forgive me, but I don’t. I knew years ago I wasn’t good enough for her, that she deserved more than I could ever give her. My parents’ words echo inside my head. It should’ve been you.
And this time I agree.
I’ve done nothing but bring hurt to those around me.
My brother was hurting, and I knew I shouldn’t have pulled over at that gas station. Even though I couldn’t have saved Jessie from his aneurysm, I caused him pain by treating his wife awfully because I couldn’t stomach being around her.
And I hurt Tilly.
Out of all of those people, Tilly is the hurt I wish I could take back. She let me climb the walls of her heart and find a morsel of peace I’ve needed for years. And I threw it all away by being dishonest, by not owning up to my choices in the past so we could have a future.
Can I fix what I’ve broken?
Thunder rumbles across the sky, and a stampede of feelings crowd my chest. I shut the garage door and grab my phone and keys. If I have any chance of fixing this with Tilly, I can’t let more time pass between us.
Rain pelts the windshield as I head down my driveway. Something stops me at the edge of the road, a warning sign blaring in the distant corners of my mind. I pick up my phone, eyes landing on a voicemail from the number I recognize as the HGTV producer’s.
Air leaks from my parted lips and a weight settles in my stomach. I shift my car into park with shaky hands and press redial.
“Gideon Roberts.”
I clear my throat. “Mr. Roberts, it’s Archer Wilson.”
“Archer,” he exclaims, clapping in the background. “Glad to hear from you. ”
I imagine him, heels kicked up on the desk, leaning back in his cushy office chair with a pen in his mouth while my whole world is crashing down around me.
“The casting director loved your interviews, but we’ve decided to…” My mind fills in the words, go with another host , and my shoulders fall. I clench my fist around the steering wheel, and slump into the seat to finish listening to the cordial conversation. “…want to start shooting ASAP. Are you still interested in hosting?”
I rear back, confused by what he’s asking. They want me to host? Host what?
“I’m sorry, Mr. Roberts, you cut out,” I lie, hoping he doesn’t catch onto my distraction. “Can you repeat that?”
“The network changed direction with the type of show you’ll be hosting. They want Stud Finders to be a reality show where carpenters and interior designers redo a house while trying not to fall in love. It’ll debut in spring.”
A reality dating show? That’s not the type of hosting I expected, but it’s still a foot in the door.
“Still interested?”
“Absolutely.” My voice rises in pitch, heartbeat racing.
“We need you in Knoxville at the beginning of the week to go over contracts and legalese. You get the gist.”
“Okay.” This is what I’ve been waiting for, the break I’ve needed to get out of this town, away from all the destruction I’ve caused.
“Great,” he replies. “Kelly will send you the flight and hotel details right now, and I’ll see you on Monday.”
The phone disconnects before I have a chance to find my words. I drag my hands down my face, put the truck in reverse, and head back up the driveway. Days ago my life was calm and easy. I hadn’t received a call about the hosting gig yet, but I had the woman of my dreams. I could stay here in this city, under the scrutiny of my parents, running my construction business and hardware stores and not long for anything else. But now, everything has changed.
I can’t go to Tilly and ask her to take me back when I don’t know if I’m staying.
If I leave, I can save us both the heartbreak.
Inside the house, I plop onto the couch and run my hands through my hair. Long gone is the warmth of the fireplace, and Tilly’s filled wine glass still sits on the table, a dried ring around the bottom. I sink into the cushion and close my eyes, letting my mind wander.
Shantel told me I need to give Tilly time to deal with her feelings about us, but with the job offer on the table, I’ve got a lot to think about too. As if on cue, my phone dings with an email. I swipe the screen and scan through the details from Gideon’s secretary. My flight leaves in two days, and once I have more information about the job I can come to Tilly with a plan.
If she’ll forgive you.
***
Clumps of freshly mowed grass pepper the country club parking lot as I pull up to the back entrance and off load the heavy slab of wood. I hadn’t planned on taking other jobs while I finished what needed to be done at the bakery, but when Mr. Kennedy told me he’d pay top dollar for a Wilson original counter, I couldn’t turn it down.
“Is that the new bar top?” Mr. Kennedy comes inside from the golf course, slicking back his hair and putting on his hat.
I smooth a hand over the lacquered wood, chest puffing up with a bit of pride. “It is. What do you think? ”
He takes in the gold logo in the center of the top, the sprawling black letters of the club’s name etched into the wood grain, the built-in coasters, and slats for bar mats and caddies to rest. His smile is wide, and when he claps me on the back I hear a door opening somewhere in the back of my head. Impressing the owner of The Dominion isn’t a small feat, and it’s one more step toward my name becoming my own, no longer associated with surgeons and doctors.
“It’s magnificent,” he says, waving over one of his golf buddies to show him. “I have another project you might be interested in, too.”
“Okay, great I—”
“But we can talk about that after your brother’s event tomorrow or sometime next week,” he says, extending his hand.
Words freeze on the tip of my tongue, and I almost ask him to repeat what he said. An event? For Sebastian? I slip my phone out of my pocket and check my calendar. It’s empty, and a quick check of my texts with my mom shows no mention of the event.
“Okay.” I turn away to gather my thoughts. “I’ll be out of town until Wednesday.”
My swallow is pained, and I glance around the room looking for answers to questions I didn’t know I needed to ask. Why are they having an event for Sebastian? And why didn’t they tell me about it?
After saying goodbye to Mr. Kennedy, I hop back into my truck and head to the one place I hope I’ll get a straight answer.
Claire’s Hill Country estate is small in comparison to my parents’ 6,500 sq. foot house, but it’s not humble by any means. I could fit two of my houses in here, plus the three-car garage. She’s lounging in front of a fire, eyes trained on the cooking show on the TV, when her maid lets me in .
“Hey sis.” I sit beside her, legs stretched out before me. “Where’s Ben?”
“He got an emergency call.” She shrugs, shoving a handful of popcorn in her mouth. Her husband is one of Texas’s top plastic surgeons, and more often than not his ‘emergencies’ consist of rich women or men who have messed up their noses by drunkenly faceplanting into the ground.
“Ah, I see.” I lean back, crossing my arms behind my head. “So about this event for Sebastian…”
Her munching comes to a halt, eyes wide and pinned on the screen. “What about it?”
My elbows move to my knees, fingers steepled in front of my lips. “Why didn’t you tell me about it?”
She blows air through her nose, reaching forward to grab the remote to pause her show. Her teeth saw into the bottom of her lip, eyes downcast as she turns to me.
“What do you want me to say, Arch?”
I thrust my hands through my hair, agitation needling my spine. “How about the fucking truth for once?”
“It’s a memorial walk for Sebastian followed by a dinner at the club.” She collapses into the couch like telling the truth zapped every ounce of energy she had. “Dad set it up.”
My stomach is a yo-yo of emotions, anger rising and falling with each twist of the knife in my chest. “And he didn’t want me there.”
She nods. “I’m sorry. You know how he is. How he’s always been.”
I rise from the couch, intent on leaving.
“Sebastian was his pride and joy,” she reminds me.
“He’ll never stop blaming me, so why do I keep trying?”
“He doesn’t blame you.” Her wavering voice betrays her.
“We both know that’s not true. ”
I head off toward the front door, but her small voice reaches into my chest and rips out my heart. “Do you blame him?”
Fury floods my system, heating my skin. “Do I blame Dad for blaming me?” I scoff. “Sounds like you’re blaming me too.”
“Arch.” She sighs. “Don’t do that.”
My shoulders tense, muscles aching with the restraint not to punch something. Sebastian hid his addiction well. Our parents were willfully ignorant, and Claire was away doing her residency, so she didn’t see the toll Dad’s expectations were taking on him. I’ve always stayed mum, kept the details of Sebastian’s last moments to myself so his reputation wasn’t tarnished, so our family name wasn’t dragged through the mud, but I can’t take the look of shame on my sister’s face.
I hang my head and lean against the marble island. “Sebastian couldn’t handle not meeting Dad’s expectations.”
Claire pads over to the doorway, arms crossed over her chest as she listens. I squeeze my jaw, hating I’m about to shatter the facade she had about our brother.
“He started taking uppers from a classmate so he could stay up studying all night.”
She shakes her head, disbelief written all over her face. “No, Seb was fine. I spoke to him a few times a week.”
“But you didn’t see him,” I reply. “You didn’t see the blown pupils, the constant irritable attitude when he went days without sleep before his first final, or hear him talk about how worthless he felt when he didn’t ace a test and Dad gave him a stern talkin’ to.” Overcome with emotion, I slam my hand on the countertop, startling her. “You weren’t here for any of that. ”
Her jaw is clenched, tears sliding down her face. “You’re lying. You just don’t understand the type of commitment and dedication it takes to be a doctor.”
The temerity of her statement leaves me gutted. “I do understand,” I reply. “I watched you and Seb run yourselves into the ground, and that’s how I knew it wasn’t for me.” I pull in my lips, debating whether or not to divulge what I’ve kept secret from her. “The night he died he asked me to go to that gas station. He went to score drugs . And when the dealer thought Seb shorted him, he pulled a gun. Jessie had a split second to decide who to save. Can you imagine that? Having to choose who to save between your two best friends? I’m only here because Jessie chose me, and Sebastian is gone because he chose to let the weight of Dad’s expectations take him so far down a path he couldn’t come back from.”
“Get out.” Her voice cracks as she points toward the door.
“I’m done caring about being worthy of your guys’ love. You can all go fuck yourselves.”
Pride fills my chest as I head to my truck. I’ve needed to have that conversation for years, and I only wish my mom and dad were there to witness it. No matter, I’m sure Claire will fill them in now that I’m gone.
My hands shake once I’m on the road, the adrenaline wearing away with each mile I travel. The rock I’ve thrown into the calm waters of the Wilson family will cause waves, but I hope that when everything settles Claire will finally see our parents, and herself, for who they truly are.
I never want to take my life for granted again. All the things I’ve told myself I don’t deserve, the things that would make my life complete, are within my grasp if I get out of my own way. My chest is lighter as I drive home to pack my suitcase for my flight to Knoxville. A few days away should help me clear my head and work out a plan to get Tilly back.
If she’ll have me.