45. Archer
Chapter forty-five
Archer
Present
“ P romise to call if you need anything.” Nora stands in front of my door, arms outstretched. Her gray hair is pulled back, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes more prominent now that they’re wet with tears.
“I promise.” I pull her into a hug, resting my chin on her head, the soothing scent of her rose perfume comforting me. The thought of leaving spears through me, and I imagine the ache in my chest is what a son feels like leaving his mother.
In a sense, Nora is my mother.
She’s been there for me throughout my whole life, been the source of encouragement I needed when my own parents couldn’t be bothered, and I never once doubted she loved me like her own. I don’t feel that way about my own mom, and I didn’t tell her or anyone else I was leaving because it wouldn’t matter to them anyway.
“How long will you be gone?” Shantel sniffles. “Are you going to move there permanently? Will you be home for Christmas?”
Her tears give me pause. I’m not sure if it’s because of the hormones from the baby or if she’s actually going to miss me, but I’ve never seen her so emotional.
She’s losing another brother, my conscience reminds me, causing a flame of regret to burn in my chest .
“I’m not sure yet.” I pull her to my side. “I’ll have a better idea of what’s to come once I’m there, but I know I have a few weeks of non-stop shooting.”
Her lip pokes out like it’s not the answer she wants, and to be honest, I’m not sure it’s the answer I want to give. I hate the idea of being away during the holidays. I love Nora and Shantel, they’re my family. But I can’t pretend all is well, that inside I’m not heartbroken because of what happened with me and Tilly, and the longer I stay here, the harder it gets to not beg her to understand the position I was put in, the reasons I didn’t challenge Jessie for a chance at loving her myself.
“Are you going to say goodbye?” Shantel asks.
I know she’s talking about Tilly, but the muscles in my throat constrict even thinking about saying goodbye to the woman I’ve spent years loving, the woman I’m leaving behind for an opportunity of a fresh start.
“I’ll let you know when I land.” I give them both another hug and get into my truck.
Shantel’s frown of disappointment follows me as I get onto the interstate. Aware of the time it’ll take me to get through San Antonio’s small airport, I chance a drive down to The Pearl toward the bakery and pull onto a side street.
One last look , I tell myself.
If she’s in there I’ll stop and say goodbye.
The poker chip stares back at me from the cup holder, a beacon of change just out of reach. Ever since Sebastian died, this chip has been a constant in my life, a compass pointing me which way to go. Most of the time it’s pointed me in the right direction, but occasionally it’s been a thorn in my side, giving me an answer I didn’t want, like when it made me believe I didn’t deserve Tilly .
Staring at it now, I want to laugh at the hold it has on me. The sheer insanity that makes me grab it and flip it into the air, hoping it lands on what I want it to so that I can pretend it’s the universe and not me telling myself I don’t deserve everything I want.
Disgust infiltrates my bloodstream, and I lose the battle I’m fighting. My thumb thrusts the chip into the air, and I ask myself one last time if I deserve Tilly. It lands on my thigh, and the weight of its answer burns through my jeans.
Heads.
I close my eyes against the tears threatening to overtake me and punch the steering wheel, angry at my brother, my family, and myself for making me feel this way, for not fighting for the things I’ve wanted.
A knock at my door startles me, and I curse myself for stopping on this side street when I see it’s Deidre at my window. It takes everything in me not to give her the finger and tell her to screw off, but I know her anger was borne out of insecurity I created in her.
“You okay?” she asks, forehead creased when I roll down the window.
I nod and clear the tears away with my sleeves. “I’m fine.”
“Here, you need this more than me.” She hands me a coffee with a surprisingly warm smile on her face. “What’s wrong? Why are you…sulking in your car?”
I give her a side eye as if she deserves any explanation after the way she acted.
“Oh, come on, Archer. I apologized.”
I grunt. “Not to the right person.”
She sighs. “I’ll apologize to her the next time I see her.”
I shake my head. “No, she deserves it now.”
“Fine,” she huffs. “Trouble already in lover’s paradise?”
There’s no bite to her words, but a hint of amusement. I don’t reply .
“She’ll come around eventually.”
I rub my forehead, confused as to why she thinks I’d discuss anything about Tilly and me with her. She mistakes it as confusion of who she’s talking about.
“Tilly.” She shrugs. “She’ll get past all the bullshit and realize you guys are meant for each other.”
I blink, confounded by her words. “Are you okay?”
She laughs. “I’m fine, Archer. I knew years ago Tilly would always be the one for you. I guess I just wanted to hurt you like you hurt me before you figured it out, but I know that’s just as shitty.”
I curl my lips over my teeth. Part of me feels bad for leading Deidre on for so long, but back then I didn’t realize I’d never get over Tilly. At first, I thought I could force myself to get over her by sleeping around, and when that didn’t work, I tried dating someone long enough that the feelings would vanish. That didn’t work either, and I ended up hurting a good woman.
“I’m sorry.”
She shakes her head. “I knew what I was up against when I started dating you, and it’s my fault for trying to come between what was meant to be.”
Her words float over me, searching for a place to land, but I brush them away. If it was meant to be then it would’ve worked out between us. Noting the time, I thank her for the coffee and let her know I’ve got to catch my flight.
***
Whoever invented headphones is now at the top of the list of my favorite people. The noise canceling feature gives me peace as I’m surrounded by people rushing to and from their gate, each worrying they’re about to miss their flight as Christmas music blares through the airport speakers. I stretch out on the seat, watching as the planes land and take off again, hurtling people toward their destinations.
I grab my ticket from my carry-on to ensure I’m at the correct gate. The black writing pulses like a warning, reminding me I’m headed to a new place. A place where no one knows me or has opinions about my last name and what I might or might not be responsible for. A place where I can become someone else.
“Excuse me.” A woman taps my shoulder. “Is this seat taken?”
I shake my head, moving my bag off the seat. There are plenty of other seats she could’ve sat at, but within seconds her daughter is glued to the window, watching the airplanes take off. My chest tightens when I see the little girl’s tiny space buns and polka dot boots.
As if on cue, my music app decides to play a song from the CD Tilly gave me years ago. I’ve listened to this CD more often than I want to admit. It’s been a comfort, a reminder of the times we jammed out to music while studying. A reminder that she was thinking about me, even if she didn’t know I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Unbidden, her face from the other night pops into my head. She looked devastated after I gave her the contract, but I couldn’t bear to stand there and not embrace her any longer. She made it clear that what happened between us was nothing more than a fling, but her comments about not being enough to stay for have been niggling at the back of my mind. Did she not read how hopelessly in love with her I was? Still am . How even though she didn’t know it, she was part of every decision I made. When I could’ve moved away and opened my construction business elsewhere, it was her that kept me here.
I don’t know how to convince her she was everything I wanted, everything I dreamed for, when I did such a good job of convincing her for so many years she wasn’t what I wanted.
And now she’s pushing me away.
Like I deserve.
“Flight 61414 to Knoxville will start boarding in five minutes,” a woman’s amplified voice speaks through the intercom system.
I gather my bags and get in line. Passengers around me tell their loved ones goodbye, and my fingers itch to call Tilly, to tell her I’ll do whatever it takes to fix what was broken between us if she’ll give me the chance, but I know it won’t matter. I messed up by not being open about the things I was struggling with and being honest about the circumstances of how our friendship crumbled. Had I known I’d lose her for good, I would’ve cherished the moments I had with her more, savored each laugh, kiss, and touch she blessed me with during our time together.
Heading down the gangway, I pull my phone out of my pocket. My fingers hover over the screen, unsure what to say. Even though I’m sure she’ll delete it, I send her a text wishing her a good grand opening, and as the flight attendants do their last-minute checks, I tack on an ‘I love you’ for good measure.