by Haley Jenner
Her eyes meet mine and she chooses not to speak for a few beats, I can't read what's in her eyes so I stare back, waiting. Eventually, she focuses back on her mug before speaking. "I work in a florist. Just part-time. Nothing like the work I was doing with Charlotte, but busy enough."
I wait silently, watching her expectantly to give me more. To let me in. Share parts of her life with me. She watches me back, holding my stare and finally she sighs, placing her coffee on the bench beside her. An action I copy, bracing my hands on the benchtop.
"There really isn't much to tell, Archer. I work part-time. I keep to myself. I read. I walk. I spend time with Aubrey. We both know I don't have a man in my life, if that’s what you're angling for." She sounds exasperated by my non-questions.
"In three years, there hasn't been anyone?" I push. Not that I think she’s lying, but Belle’s beautiful; I have no doubt there’d be ample opportunity, guys falling over themselves for a chance with her. I wanna kill them, cause them physical pain for thinking they can touch my girl, but still, I can’t believe there was no one.
"I went on two dates. Two different men. Don't remember the first guy's name, it was that bad. We went to lunch. I left as soon as we’d finished eating and I didn't see him again. Paul, the second guy was nice, we had dinner. It was…. okay, I guess. But he…. he wasn't." She ends mid-sentence, refusing to finish what I know what she was going to say.
"He wasn't me. That's what you didn’t want to say. Right?"
"Why are you doing this?” she rubs the crease of her brow in frustration. “You're right, he wasn't you because I still haven't learnt how to be without you. The thought of any other man touching me, or me touching them, feels……I don't know……. wrong. It's stupid. I'm ridiculous, but that’s the truth. Thank you, Archer, for making me realize how fucking pathetic I am." She pushes from the counter and attempts to escape the confines of the kitchen but I grab her arm as she walks past me, halting her exit.
"Hey. That's not what I was doing. I get it, Belle. I get it. He wasn't me. No other woman is you. I'm just trying to make you see. Baby, you're not pathetic, at least no more than I am," I smile at her.
"Archer, stop it. Please," her voice is pleading, her chocolate eyes wide, staring into my own.
"No," I bite out. "I'll make you see. What we have is…. It’s right."
Belle’s soft laugh holds no humor as she shakes her head. "You don't get it. We don't have anything, Archer. Whatever we shared, it ended years ago. We both made sure enough damage was done. It can't be fixed."
I watch her for a moment and as much as I need her to see reason, for her to start fighting for us and not against us, I can’t have her running. So against every instinct I have in my body, I go for easy, giving her my wide smile. "No wonder nothing went anywhere between the two of you, what kind of name is Paul anyway?" I tease.
She watches skeptically for a brief moment, trying to read into my easy dismissal, so unlike me. She accepts it though, appreciating the free pass on a shake of her head and a small smile.
I watch her exit from the kitchen realizing I have no fucking idea how to break her down. Leaning against the wall once again, I watch her with Janie and she’s relaxed back into the normal as they settle into easy conversation. I gave her that. Just then, our interaction helped her feel at home. How can she not fucking see that?
"I'll be back for dinner," I yell as I walk through the front door without looking back.
I spend the afternoon keeping busy; I head to the gym and work out my pent-up frustration. I head into work and finalize quotes for potential clients. I drive to North Bend to pick up Apple Pie because I'm determined to wear her down. My Belle is buried inside the angry, scared version currently sitting in Janie's living room; I just need to break her out.
The drive to North Bend is quiet and I spend most of the time thinking on Belle. She still looks the same, beautiful as ever. Her eyes aren't as bright as I remember, but that’s my fault. Something I’m determined to fix. I'll rid them of the emptiness, of the loneliness that fills them.
I know I need to be consistent in my approach, but not forceful. It’s such a thin fucking line. I just want to shake her, to wake up her up and make her realize she belongs here with me and not living some mundane existence. But her feet are already half way out the door, ready to run back to Bellingham, so I push too hard and I could lose her for good. I just need to remind her how good it is here. With me. With our family.
"Hey Archer," Jake greets me as I enter the kitchen.
Their affection still pisses me off. Jake is standing at the stove, stirring what smells like spaghetti sauce with Belle's arms wrapped around his waist, her cheek to his back. Her eyes watch my approach and she gives me a comfortable smile, not moving from Jake’s space.
I offer only a chin nod and drop the pie to the counter. “Apple Pie. Dessert,” I declare before turning and walking from the kitchen.
I don’t stay to watch her reaction, when I want nothing more than to turn back and see her face, see the reaction her body has given. Has she stiffened with uncertainty? Brown eyes wide with shock? But I don't, instead I exit the kitchen and drop onto the couch with Ma. Offering a knowing grin, Janie places her head onto my shoulder and settles in to watch some daytime shit. “You watchin’ this, Ma? Surely, there’s a game on?”
Holding onto my hand she gives me a squeeze. “Nah, baby boy, I'm not watchin’ this.”
I find a game and settle deeper into the couch, offering Ma’s head a kiss. “Belle, baby, bring me a beer. Ma’s snuggled in and I can’t get up," I yell towards the kitchen.
Janie’s laughter is quiet, but I feel her body shaking against my own.
Belle walks through the lounge with a scowl pinching her face. Hand extended, she hands me my beer, glower firmly in place. Her eyes flick to Janie and her face warms almost immediately. “Get you anything, Janie?”
“Nah, baby girl, all good."
Belle flicks her eyes my way, scowl reappearing before exiting the lounge.
“What are you playing at?” Janie questions, humor lacing her soft tone.
My body jerks with laughter. “No games, Ma. Belle's been gone long enough. This is her family; she belongs here with us, just trying to make her see. I need my woman back.”
Feeling her shift slightly, I bend my neck to meet her eyes, which are round with surprise. “About time, Archer. It's only taken you three years.”
My eyebrows rise at her chiding. I know that I’ve fucked around for the past few years, but I needed to be solid again before I drew her back into my life, to cement her here.
“Ain’t gonna be easy, you did some damage, baby boy. You have one hell of a fight ahead of you,” Janie warns. “Just don't start it if you’re not going all the way with it. Don’t hurt my girl any more than you already have,” she finishes.
My body jerks in shock. “You think that much of me?”
Sighing loudly, Janie places her hand on my leg in an attempt to calm me. Opening her mouth to speak, I cut her off, not needing her lecture. “Years ago, I came back fucked up. Dead inside. I had nothing for her then, Ma and I convinced myself that she’d be happier without me. I was wrong and I’ve finally sorted my shit. That girl in there is my life. I lost a lot on my last tour; brothers, part of my soul. More than that though; I lost Jake, I lost you and I lost Belle, Ma. I fuckin’ lost her. But not only that, I took something from her. She’s not the same anymore, she’s sad and I know can make her happy. Me and only me. Belle's my life. My everything. I need her, she needs me and I can’t live without her anymore. I need my woman back. I need my life back,” I finish, focusing back on the TV, downing a large swallow of my beer.
“Well, good. Like I said, about time,” I hear the smile in Janie’s tone and wrap my arm around her shoulder to pull her back into my body.
Annabelle
“It’s rude to eavesdrop, Annabelle.”
I startle away from the wall, eyes wide to Jake as he
smirks at me. “I…ah…” I laugh uncomfortably. “I was just…” I start again, words failing me. Dragging my hands along my face, I groan out loud, leaning back against the wall. Peeking from behind my hands, Jake’s grin has broken into a wide smile, eyebrows raised at my flustered state. “Oh shut up,” I snap. “I didn’t mean to. I came out to see if they needed anything else and they were talking about me. Natural curiosity.”
“And…” he prompts.
“I don’t know, Jakey. Archer has it in his head that he and I are going to go back to what we had. Happily ever after,” I finish sarcastically.
“I don’t think he wants to go back to what you had,” he states and I look at him confused.
Gesturing to the table, he takes a seat and waits for me to do the same. Rearranging us, he turns his chair to face me directly, dragging mine around so we’re face to face. “Annabelle, the tours that Archer served, took a lot from both of you. Archer was hurting when he came back and we can’t understand that. Even if he tried to let us in, we couldn’t possibly begin to understand what happened over there, or what’d settled inside him by the time he came back. Archer broke your heart, I get that. I saw it, Annabelle. I witnessed the pain you felt, saw the hurt filter through your body every day. But I saw it in Archer as well, probably more so. You guys aren’t going to have what you had all those years ago. You were young, your love was easy. This is now, Annabelle. Sure, you're both a little damaged, but that shouldn’t shut down your chances of a happily ever after. You’re different people now. Don’t let your past dictate what your future will look like.”
We sit in silence, Jake allowing me time to process his words. “Do you love him? Still?” he questions softly and my eyes turn to meet his once again.
It takes me a few breaths to answer and when I do; my words crack almost instantly, my emotions, like always, overwhelming me. “More than I ever imagined was possible. My love for him hasn’t lessened, not one little bit, no matter the hurt he caused. Even with the amount of time we’ve been separated, I reach out for him in bed every single night. Still. I wake up and feel heartbroken every morning when I realize I hadn’t dreamt it, that we were over. He invades my thoughts. Constantly. Everything reminds me of him. Everything.” My tears fall freely and I try with everything to control the sobs bursting from my throat.
Jake leans in and pulls me under my arms and I go easily, crawling into his lap. He rubs my back as I cry into his neck and my tears slowly subside as Jake sings lightly into my ear, tapping a beat softly along my spine.
I love his voice, the husk of it as it cracks on a higher note, the way the sound vibrates through his body, allowing me to feel the sound as well as hear it. It doesn’t surprise me that College parties were paying him and his band to gig even years ago. Now they tend to gig at a few pubs across the State. But his solo work is my favorite, he sings regularly at Darci’s store and she does well from those nights. I guess I’m not the only one that thinks settling in with a coffee, reading a book and listening to Jake sing is an ideal night spent. “You could be famous. You know that, right?” I speak into his neck.
“Not interested in being famous, babe. Love my art. Want it to stay that way,” he responds like always. No matter how often we’ve had this conversation, his answer remains the same.
“Keep singing to me,” I urge and I feel his body shake with laughter.
“What’dya wanna hear?”
“1D?” I test.
“I’m embarrassed that I know who 1D are. That, I solely blame on you. I would definitely have to hand in my man card if one of their songs break from my lips,” he replies with no humor.
“What about at my wedding, you’ll have to sing anything I want at my wedding.”
“Babe, you marry a man that allows 1D at his wedding, I think you and I will stop being friends. Just saying, he’d be a little bitch,” he states and I laugh out loud.
“Ed,” I suggest and I feel him smile against my head.
“Ed I will do for you, only you,” he replies before his fingers begin tapping the beat on my back once again. He sings about love hurting, about it being hard, about letting it heal you, but most importantly it not letting you go.
I listen to the lyrics and to the way Jake sings them. I let the meaning of the words sink into my thoughts as I think about Jake’s own words. About Archer. About myself. I’ve been so closed to any thoughts surrounding Archer, I’ve never really thought about Jake’s take on it. I’ve been so focused on what Archer and I had, I've never considered what could be now. Picking up exactly where we left off would be impossible; too much has passed between the two of us. Heartbreak. Harsh words. Distance. Time. We've both had to grow without one another, so if we have any chance at being together again, we'd have to work at reconnecting as different people. Spend our time learning about each other all over again. The love would still be there, that hasn’t died, and at least we'd definitely have that on our side.
It's good to be able to talk to Jake about all of this. I haven't admitted to anyone, not even myself, how much I still love Archer. I haven't been honest about the strength of my feelings in over three years and it felt good to let it out. It was hard, excruciatingly so, but I can't deny it felt good to stop hiding.
Dinner itself is somewhat uneventful. Shared glances are exchanged between Archer and me and his eyes stayed glue to mine when dessert is served. Watching for a reaction to his blatant reminder of so many years before. I was just as unsure of my feelings then as I am now. Though I wasn’t scared back then, not sure how to navigate, sure, but not scared. Now I’m petrified. Now I know what’s at stake. Now I know how amazing our love can be. Now I know how fucking painful it is to lose him.
I know why he did it, the Apple Pie. Working to assault me with memories of happier times, making me remember small details; about him, me, us. I appreciate the gesture. It's scrambled my head further but it was thoughtful of him, in a completely selfish, self-beneficial way. But still, thoughtful all the same.
This time I make sure I eat every last bite. No longer uncomfortable with the predatory glare his eyes are emitting. No longer uncertain of the sexual tension radiating between the two of us. This is the part I know. This is the part I'm completely self-confident with.
Archer's eyes darken as I lick my spoon clean and I smile wickedly when I see him not-so-subtly readjust himself under the table. He loves my mouth. Never missed an opportunity to tell me that, so I play on this throughout dinner. Poking my tongue out to dampen my lips when I know he's watching, dragging my bottom lip between my teeth slowly when he's talking, smiling when this causes his train of thought to derail. I know I’m playing with fire, but I can’t bring myself to stop. I enjoy the obvious affect I have over him. For the first time in years I feel in control of the situation. I feel my overt sexual behavior is a weapon against the constant doubt raining down on me.
With dinner finished, Archer excuses himself from the table, disappearing outside. I watch him on Janie's front porch; smoke hanging from his full lips, one hand cupping the end of the stick, the other flicking a lighter. His body visibly relaxes as he takes a deep pull, welcoming the nicotine. He doesn’t smoke often; occasionally when he’s stressed, unsure, even reflecting. It's never bothered me, always having been a part of him since I can remember. Like the brooding. It adds to his taste; one I’ve always found addictive. Archer mixed with the unmistakable hint of tobacco.
I clear the table of our dishes before helping Janie. She’s stronger than I imagined she would be and her recovery improves daily, allowing her greater independence every day. I assist where needed in washing her down, before redressing her wounds. After I’m comfortable she’s settled, I head back downstairs to clean the kitchen, ready to call it a night.
Archer still has me twisted in knots and I’m pissed off at myself, at my constant indecisiveness. I can’t seem to come to a conclusion on where I am anymore. I was so certain that I was done, that nothing could be saved. But being h
ere, around him, around my family, I can’t help but want it. Can’t help but let the hope I pushed so far down, finally build and slowly breathe life back into my heart.
My feet halt mid-step when I see Archer at the bottom of the staircase waiting for me. I slow my walk, my approach hesitant at his set jaw. “That was uncool, whatever you were playing over dinner. I’m not interested in games, Belle. Don’t try and play me,” he states before disappearing out the front door.
I stare at the door long after he's driven out of the street, knowing he was right. My behavior was uncool and completely unfair. Every time he thinks he's made progress, I push him away, edging as much distance between us as I can manage. Without meaning to, I'm playing games with his heart and that’s not who I want to be. Our situation is hard enough without me sending mixed signals. As cross-wired as my heart and brain are right now, I owe it to Archer to tread carefully.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Archer
I make my way through the front door of the house we once shared, a home we built together. A home built on a solid foundation of hard work and happy memories. Memories now tarnished by heartbreak and a darkness I fully intend on erasing from our lives.
Having Belle back is something I'd never considered a possibility, it was always too painful to live that fantasy, but now, with her here, I can't move past the hope, the promise of us. We belong together and I know my life doesn't make any sense without her. These past few weeks, as hot and cold as she's been - being able to see her every day, the fleeting moments I've been able to touch her, I feel like I'm living again.
She’s confused, that’s a certainty, torn between the constant push of her desires and the pull of her fears. But if life has taught me anything, the heavier the weight of something, the harder it is to pull it away. Pushing is easier, especially when you have the right momentum. So whether her heart knows it or not, I’ll win. I know it.
