by Haley Jenner
She’s losing the battle she’s trying to fight. She’s trying to keep her distance both emotionally and physically, but I know the fight is getting harder and harder for her. I know she wants nothing more than to be here again. With me. Where she belongs.
“Well I hope you enjoyed the show,” she throws at me before biting down on her bottom lip, trying to disguise her smile.
“Take relief in the fact that physically, I’m really fuckin’ uncomfortable right now. Raging hard-on like you couldn't imagine. Worth it though,” I wink at her before turning back to the kitchen to throw my empty in the trash.
She’s still on the stairs as I re-enter the room and I walk towards her, leaning down to touch my lips to her hair, inhaling her scent before regretfully pulling away.
I’m at the door before I hear her speak. “Before you go home and jerk off, let me know so I can sneak in and watch you like a creeper,” she says and I can hear the humor in her tone.
Glancing back over my shoulder I offer her a sly grin. “Baby, if I know you’re there, you ain’t watching.” Winking at her shocked face, I turn and walk through the front door of our home, pausing on the porch stairs and retracing my steps back towards the door.
“I’ll give you time, Belle. Within reason. This is happening, baby, so I’ll give you time to process, but I’m done waiting. I’m done playin’ games. It’s time we move past this fuckin’ nightmare and start living our lives. Together.”
Having said my final piece, I turn on my heel and leave. I’m nervous; giving her more time is something to dread and it might be the second greatest regret of my life. I know Belle, I know her need to over-analyze every minor detail. She thinks she needs it though, so I’ll give it to her. Only two days though. Two days and that’s it, I’ve waited long enough.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Annabelle
This is ridiculous. I’m ridiculous and I’m woman enough to admit that I’m beyond humiliated at myself. My brain has once again ceased its ability to think rationally. Is this what my life has become? Hiding. In a pantry?
I hear his footsteps enter the kitchen before retreating almost immediately. “Where’dya say she was, Ma? She ain’t in the kitchen,” he bellows up the stairs, his voice impatient.
Janie responds, but my hiding place hinders my ability to hear her words.
“I gotta head to work, but when she comes back, you call me. Immediately, yeah? She’s been avoidin’ me for days now. I’m done. Tell her I’m pissed off,” he snaps before I hear the retreat of his footsteps through the house and the echo of the front door as it slams shut.
I wait another minute before I let myself take my first deep breath since I heard him arrive. Oxygen fills my lungs, helping to calm me. Lifting my hand to bring it in front of my face, it’s shaking and I clasp it close to my chest to stop it. My body is a potent mixture of nervous energy, anxiety and bubbling excitement. Even putting me on edge, Archer still has the ability to electrify me.
What the hell was I thinking? Hiding in here? I’d be fucked if he’d found me; imagine how I’d look and with absolutely no way to escape. My god, I need to plan this shit more carefully next time.
Archer’s right, I’ve been working my hardest to avoid him. I don’t know what he expected; he gave me two days, that’s it. Two days before he started blowing up my phone, coming to the house, turning up at Janie's when he knew I'd be here.
Two days.
How is anybody supposed to make a life changing decision in two days? I’ve spent the last 3 days living inside my head. Over analyzing every shared moment, every negative encounter, every single one of our happy memories and our worst.
I’ve come to terms, over a million times, that Archer is right. We belong together; that all I need to do is take a step in the right direction – towards him. To open myself up to him again, welcome myself back into his world and finally find my happiness. Then convincing myself that I’m certifiably crazy for even contemplating it. Letting the memories of heartbreak and loneliness win out. Letting them plague my mind and depress me with the realization that this could never work. That I could never trust us again. That as much as I want to, I could never trust Archer again, that I’d be risking too much.
Maybe I could find another man like Max. Quiet, easy…. boring. That way I could live a certain way with no chance of complete and utter devastation if he broke my heart. I could find a man the complete opposite of Archer Dean; get married, have a family and forget that love like the kind Archer and I share, exists.
All this I contemplate once again. In Janie’s pantry, surrounded by condiments and complex carbohydrates. Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, they can’t offer any sound advice or insight. Which is somewhat welcome, at least I can’t feel judged…..
Feeling enough time has passed I slowly turn the handle and peer out of the pantry door, afraid he’ll still be lurking. I scream loudly when I’m met with Janie’s face. “What the fuck?” she screeches back, hand to heart. “What…Why…Are you hiding? In my fuckin’ pantry?” she yells, breathing heavily.
Holding her eyes closed for a long drawn out breath she shakes her head as she brings me back into focus. “Baby girl, you almost gave me a heart attack. I’m not 20 anymore, Annabelle, don’t do that shit,” she reprimands.
A laugh bubbles from my chest. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just…. I…” I stumble not really sure what to say.
“You’re shitting me, aren’t you? You were in there the whole time, when he was looking for you?” she accuses and I smile at her in response; it’s awkward, it’s forced.
Rubbing her face, she shakes her head in exasperation. “I have no words for the two of you, baby girl. He would lose his f’in’ lovin’ mind if he knew you were hiding from him like this.”
I shrug pathetically. “I know, Janie, I’m just not ready. I can’t bring myself to make a decision. The promise of what we could have is so tempting, but I’ve spent the last 3 years slowly gluing myself back together. I’m okay now. Just. But still, okay. I’m afraid,” I answer honestly.
“You know what I think, Annabelle, this is your home. Archer is your home. I know how much he hurt you, but the life you’ve built for yourself in Bellingham isn’t a life. You’re existing. Barely. Exactly like Archer is. You either take the gamble or don’t, but decide. Stop hiding in cupboards. If you can’t open yourself up to him again then don’t string him along. Make the cut, he deserves that much,” she finishes, leaning forward to kiss my forehead before walking from the kitchen.
I feel deflated as I watch her leave. I dislike myself for giving him hope when I’m not sure I have it in me to try. I’m mad at him for pressuring me, pushing this when I’m not ready to decide.
I spend the next week avoiding my usual routine. Attempting to confuse him and stop him from finding me. I don’t stay at home. That’s too much of a risk, only going back there when I know he’s at work. Even then I rush. I duck into shopfronts when I see him coming. Exit the backdoor at Janie’s when I hear him pull up. It’s pathetic. But it’s my immediate reaction. To run. To avoid. To put off a decision I’m too scared to make.
“Hoping it was you Darci was whispering to. Was kind of afraid she lost it, talking to a plant,” Toby teases, standing over me, eyebrows raised.
I can understand his confusion. I am sitting behind a large plant towards the back of The Coffee House, trying to remain invisible. “I could’ve called him you know? Could have let him be the one to startle you,” he offers by way of accusation, his usually kind eyes narrowed at me.
“Thank you,” I whisper up at him, offering him a seat.
Taking the offered chair, he turns it planting himself with his chest leaning into the backrest. “What the fuck, Annabelle?” he asks. “How long are you gonna keep this up for? It’s been what? A week?”
Clearing my throat, I have the decency to look ashamed as I answer. “8 days.”
Rubbing his hands down his face
he shakes his head at me, completely disillusioned by my obvious avoidance. “So I’ll repeat what the fuck, Annabelle?”
I want to cry. Instead I speak. I talk until my throat is raw. I vocalize what’s been swirling around in my mind for the past 8 days. “I’m petrified, Toby. Scared shitless. This decision is massive. If I decide to cut ties, to end this once and for all - that’s it. Archer’s gone from my life. Forever. The life I always imagined for us is gone. Completely. I can’t even think on that without feeling physically sick. It’s not an option. It can’t be an option, because a life without Archer is just too…. too fucking hard to…. God, I can’t even,” I stop myself. Toby soaks up my words, concern warming his eyes.
“But the alternative is risking too much. Toby, last time…. I don’t have the words to describe how unbearable my life was. I honestly don’t know how I survived it. It destroyed me. I could barely get out of bed, I didn’t socialize, and I rarely ate. I felt as though my heart had been ripped out of my chest. That I had an open, bleeding wound that I couldn’t fix. When I thought it’d started to close over and heal; the faintest memory, the smallest reminder would rip it right back open and I’d die all over again. Painfully. I don’t think…….no, I know. I know I couldn’t survive that again. I wouldn’t want to.”
I watch him stare at me and his eyes are sad, sympathetic. Reaching across the table he grabs hold of my hand and squeezes. “Tell me what to do, Toby? Do I open myself up to the chance of losing him again? Of the constant bleeding wound where my heart should sit? Or do I say goodbye? Do I turn away from the only person I’ve ever loved more than life itself? The person that gave me the happiest moments of my life? Knowing he has the ability to rip them away and also give me the most painful? Something he can and has done before. Please, tell me what to do.” I beg through my tears.
Toby moves from his seat swiftly. Kicking his leg out to stand up straight before dropping to his knees in front of me. Hugging me fiercely, he tucks my head into his neck and lets me cry. Which I do. Hysterically. It takes me a good 15 minutes to calm down and by this time Toby’s shirt is soaked from my tears. “I’ve made a mess of your shirt,” I hiccup through my hysteria and he only smiles in response.
“Avoiding him isn’t going to make it easier,” he offers. “He’s going nuts, Annabelle. You’re scared. You’re petrified. He’s fucking terrified. Panicking. All this toing and froing isn’t good for either of you and it's not fair. I get every word you said, swear to god, I hear you loud and clear. But to be honest, everything you said, even about being scared, about the pain, it all came back to not being able to live without him. You’re stopping yourself from the love you guys have because you’re afraid of something that might happen. You can’t live like that. You know opening yourself to him again is going to be epic, babe. Not many people in the world ever experience a love like yours. I honestly think you’re afraid of nothing. Archer will never let himself get to that point ever again. Babe, he was bleeding just as much, if not more, than you were. He’s workin’ through it, and fuck me if he isn’t succeeding. Years ago, I didn’t think he’d survive. Archer’s my best friend, Annabelle. It was heart breaking to see him trying to kill himself day by day. But he’s good now. Solid,” he says squeezing my shoulders. “Stronger than I have honestly ever seen him before. I don’t think I have to convince you he’s worth the risk, babe. You know it, in here,” he points to my heart. “In here,” he moves to point to my head. "You know it. Being scared is okay. Anything worth fighting for is gonna be scary, that’s how you know it’s worth the risk. The reward is like nothin’ you can imagine. Legendary,” he smiles widely at me.
My shoulders sag as I sigh loudly, dropping my head to his chest. “You make it sound so easy,” I whine.
I feel his body shake under my head with laughter. “Babe, for me it would be. I love Willow. More than fuckin’ anything. Nothing and I mean nothing could keep me from her. I would risk anything and everything to be with her, time and time again. No question, no hesitation,” he pushes me back slightly to meet my eyes. “It’s the same for Archer, babe. No doubt. He would risk everything for you. Never thought I’d see Archer fall in love. But he did, for you, hard. He loves you more than life itself, he’d die before he’d let anything hurt you again.”
Toby hugs me tightly, kissing my forehead before standing over me once again. He doesn't offer anything further, only smiling softly, a little more encouragement before making his way out of The Coffee House. I continue to watch the door after he leaves, staring at the tinted window reflecting the inside of the bookstore, as I think about what he said. As if watching the empty space, the last place he stood, would keep his words fresh and encouraging.
“You okay?” Darci’s soft voice pulls my attention and I turn towards her slowly, offering the hint of a smile.
“Yeah babe, I’m good. Toby gave me a lot to think about. Thinking I might head to Bellingham this afternoon. Give me the last little bit of time I need to think and tidy some stuff up there.”
Darci smiles widely at this. “Meaning…. you’re coming home? For good?” she squeals.
“I think so. Carnation is my home, Darc, I'm not happy in Bellingham. It's nice to be around Aubrey but it just doesn't feel right. Being back these few weeks, even with all the Archer drama, I feel at home. I love this place and I want to be back here. I'll sort the Archer stuff out too, eventually. Toby had a convincing argument, not that he shed light on anything new, I've always known I’d never be happy with anyone else. Not like I can be with Archer, but I’m scared.”
Darci sits sideways on the chair Toby vacated. “I didn’t want to put my opinion forward because I think that you need to work this out for yourself. I think taking the time and drive to Bellingham and settle it in your head will be good for you. But…" she draws out her last word, pausing hesitantly; wanting for my confirmation she can continue. I raise my eyebrows in invitation for her to continue and she does. "For what it’s worth, I think being with Archer is where you belong. I have no doubt he is the absolute love of your life, Annabelle. I’m a hopeless romantic, I know, but I think you'd be throwing too much away if you don't give it another shot. I think you’ll find you guys will live the life you both deserve. That you can make one another happy,” she offers kindly.
The drive to Bellingham is exactly how I imagine. I’m a mess. This is the one and only thing I'm sure of. My back and forth carries on for my entire drive. I make the decision to stay there when I arrive. No turning back, I can’t possibly risk my heart again. Toby’s advice leaving my conscious thought. Of course he'd fight on Archer's side, he's his best friend. Of course his opinion would be skewed to Archer's wants. What if I do go back and Archer breaks me again? I can’t do it. It was too hard last time. The feeling of loss and the suffocating pressure of loneliness still too fresh for me. Then I think about life without him and I cry. Decision made, I can’t get home fast enough. I want to fly into Aubrey’s, grab my things and find Archer straight away. Kiss him, tell him I love him and that I can’t live without him, not for another second. I let myself imagine his reaction, the smile that will break his face, the way he’ll kiss me. I let myself daydream about being able to touch him again, whenever I want and my heart begins a rhythmic pattern, identifying itself as present. It makes me feel relaxed, because for so long I felt part of the living dead, miraculously still breathing without a heartbeat.
Then I think of losing all that again and I struggle to catch my breath, the feeling of loss once again drowning me. So it’s definite, I’m staying in Bellingham. Ties need to be cut. Completely. No further contact. I'll find somewhere on the East Coast. A big city where he couldn’t find me, even if he tried. That thought breaks me and I know in myself that I can't do that, so I have to go back.
I torture myself for just over an hour and by the time I pull up at Aubrey's I'm exhausted. “You look like shit, what happened?” she tests, eyeing me skeptically.
“I’ve gone about 25 rounds
with myself in a highly emotional boxing ring. I don’t know who won. That’s still to be determined,” I sigh.
“Ouch,” she replies, throwing her arm over my shoulder, pulling me into her side and walking us through the door. “Wanna get drunk and cry?”
“Yes. I would like that very much,” I answer on a smile.
I’ve died.
That’s the only possible explanation for how I feel right now. My stomach is churning and I'm certain I've cracked my skull open, it's the only reasoning I can conclude from the pain. I have no idea where I am. Wherever I am, it's soft. At least I can take comfort that wherever I'm about to die, the surroundings are comfortable. The room however is spinning, which is most unpleasant and I’ve yet to be able to open my eyes. They’re glued shut, but even this inability hasn’t stopped the light from burning my retinas. It’s too bright and I close my eyes with greater force, trying to shut out the light but this only adds to the stabbing pain in my temple.
“Kill me,” Aubrey croaks beside me.
“Don’t yell,” I whisper, my voice cracking on both words.
Using what limited energy my body offers me; I force one eye open and squint over at Aubrey, who is mirroring my action. She looks bloody awful; make up smudge under her eyes, porcelain skin blotchy and red, her long hair tangled into knotted mess.
“Don’t fuckin’ look at me like that, bitch. You don’t look any better. Probably worse.”
With an effort that hurts my entire body, I lift my hand and flip her off.
Hours later I've managed to shower and dress. My body is slumped across Aubrey's breakfast bar, coffee and a forgotten piece of toast pushed to the side. "We're pathetic," Aubrey complains, disgust clear in her statement.
