Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
The wine was flowing, and when what I’d consumed started to hit me, my ability to hold back left the building. I unleashed a question that didn’t technically fall under the banned category of wedding talk.
“Does Mariah know about us?” I asked.
“Does she know we’re here together? Of course.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Archie looked up from his empty dessert plate. “You mean did I tell her you and I hooked up that one summer?”
“Yeah. I’m just curious if she knows about that…blip, if you will.” Sadness settled in my chest at the way I’d reduced what we’d had to a mere blip. It was so much more than that to me.
Archie fiddled with his napkin. “No. I don’t see a good reason to tell her.” He looked up at me. “Do you?”
“Probably not.”
His eyes seared into mine. “Did you ever tell Shane?”
“No.” I chuckled. “He didn’t like you as it was.”
“Well, there you go.” Archie rolled up his napkin and tossed it aside. “For the record, I never liked him, either.”
Archie had only met my ex-boyfriend once, when Shane had accompanied me on one of my work trips to California, pre-Mariah. The three of us had dinner together one night, and Shane kept telling me all Archie really wanted was to get in my pants. I’d neglected to tell my ex that was what I’d wanted for quite some time, too—until Archie rejected me.
Things went quiet for a bit, as Archie cleared the table and I felt more emotions bubbling to the surface. Archie and I had decided a long time ago that we were better off as friends. Well, it was more his decision, though I went along with it. Either distance or circumstances had made being anything more than friends pretty much impossible anyway. And for most of the time we’d been physically apart, I’d had a boyfriend.
Shane and I had been together for five-and-a-half years. We’d met at BU, dating exclusively up until about six months ago. We’d both gotten TV-industry jobs in New York after college and had stayed together until we finally grew apart. Shane decided he didn’t want kids after previously saying he did, and that was a dealbreaker for me. But by the time he and I ended things, Archie was with Mariah. I’d missed the window to explore things with Archie again. The universe must’ve had other plans. Fate had to be telling us something.
“What room are you sleeping in tonight?” he asked.
“My old one.”
He nodded. “I’ll probably take the bedroom down here.”
That shouldn’t have come as a surprise. I’d wondered, though, if maybe he’d sleep in the room adjacent to mine for old times’ sake. Hiding my slight disappointment, I folded my hands together. “There’s plenty of space to choose from, right?”
Him sleeping downstairs was probably better anyway. I knew Archie would never cheat on his girlfriend—excuse me, fiancée—but knowing he was right next door would likely ignite old feelings in me that were better kept buried.
Eventually, I helped Archie finish cleaning up the mess we’d made. Then we sat out back and gazed up at the stars. It was a beautiful, clear evening on Whaite’s Island, albeit a little cool. I had a knit blanket from the living room couch over myself as I sat on the Adirondack chair.
Archie looked up at the sky. “Do you think we’re making the right decision about selling this place?”
“I do. My parents agree that it’s the best time to sell.”
“It just…feels like the last piece of that simpler time.”
“I know,” I whispered.
“That was the best summer of my life, you know.”
Turning to him, I nodded in agreement.
“And maybe also the worst,” he added.
We stared at each other in silence.
I wanted to say so much, but I was afraid of what opening up even a little would cause me to say next. Because there was a lot I wanted to tell Archie right now. I wanted to tell him I loved him—as more than a friend. That I’d always loved him, from that first summer we lived together. It had taken me a long time to figure out that my inability to love Shane the way he deserved was probably because I’d been harboring feelings for Archie.
Instead, I cowered. I said nothing but wondered if everything would come flooding out before the end of this weekend.
One thing was for certain: if there was ever a time to tell Archie Remington how I truly felt, it was now. I might not have another chance.
• • •
A loud knock woke me the next morning.
My groggy eyes fluttered open. What the?
His deep voice was grating as he spoke from behind the door. “Come on, Benedict. You’re late for our run.”
I looked at my phone. 6 AM. Our old running time. “Run?” I rubbed my eyes. “I don’t do that anymore.”