Archer's Voice(86)

I went to him and kneeled down in front of him. "What's wrong?" I asked.

He looked at me and smiled a sweet smile, one that reminded me of the man who had come out with a newly-shaven face, looking at me so unsure. He brushed a piece of hair back off of my face and then said, Do you want kids, Bree?

My brows furrowed and my head came back slightly as I let out a small laugh. "Eventually, yes. Why do you ask that?"

Just wondering. I figured you did.

I was confused. "Do you not want kids, Archer? I don’t…"

He shook his head. It's not a matter of that. It's just… how would I support a family? I couldn't. I can barely support myself out here. I have a little bit of money left from my parents' insurance policy, but most of it went to my medical bills. My uncle supported us out here on his disability money from the army and now, I have a small insurance policy that he left–it'll last me as long as I don't live to be a hundred and ten… but that's it. His eyes moved away from me, back out the window.

I sighed, my shoulders drooping. "Archer, you'd get a job, do something you like. You don't think people with disabilities of one kind or another have careers all the time? They do–"

Do you want to hear about the first time I left this land on my own? he asked, cutting me off.

I studied his face and nodded my head yes, sadness suddenly gripping me and I wasn't even sure why.

My uncle passed away four years ago. He made all his own arrangements and was cremated. The medical examiner's crew came to take his body away and they brought his ashes back a week later. I didn't see another person for the next six months.

My uncle had a food stockpile down in the cellar–part of his crazy paranoia–and it kept me alive for that long. I started growing my hair, my beard… I didn't know exactly why at the time, but now I think it was another way to hide from the people I knew I'd eventually have to face. Crazy, right? His eyes found mine again.

I shook my head vigorously. "No, not crazy at all," I said softly.

He paused, looking at me and then went on. I held my breath. This was the first real time he had opened up to me on his own, without my probing.

The first time I left for the grocery store, it took me two hours to walk up that driveway, Bree, he said brokenly. Two hours.

"Oh, Archer," I breathed, tears coming to my eyes, my hands gripping his thighs, anchoring me to him. "You did it though, it was hard, but you did it."

He nodded. Yeah, I did it. People looked at me, whispered. I grabbed some bread and peanut butter and lived off of it for a week until I worked up the courage to go back out again. He huffed out a small breath, his face pained. I hadn't been off this land since I was seven years old, Bree.

He looked past me for a minute, obviously remembering. After a while though, it got better. I ignored people and they ignored me–I just started blending in, I guess. If someone spoke to me, I looked the other way. It was fine after that. I took up projects around here and stayed busy. I was lonely, so damn lonely. He ran a hand through his hair, his expression tortured. But I tired myself out most days…

I felt the tears shimmering in my eyes, understanding even more deeply the bravery it had taken for Archer to even take one step off this land.

"Then you went out with Travis… and to see me at the diner," I said. "You did that, Archer. And it was incredibly courageous."

He sighed. Yeah, I did it. But it had been four years by that point. It took me four years to take another step–and I didn't even like it.

"You didn't like it with Travis because he was the wrong person, untrustworthy, but you liked it with me, right? It was okay, then?"

He looked down at me, his eyes filled with tenderness when he put one hand up on my cheek for a second and then brought it down. Yes, it's always okay when I'm with you.

I leaned into him. "I won't leave you, Archer," I whispered, blinking the tears out of my eyes as I looked up at him.

His eyes warmed even more as he gazed down at me. That's a big burden for someone, Bree. To feel like if you leave a person, their whole life is going to crumble to dust. That's what I've been out here thinking about. What a burden I might end up being to you, the pressure you'll feel just loving me.

I shook my head. "No," I said, but my heart hammered hollowly in my chest because I understood what he was saying, too. I didn't agree, and as far as I was concerned in that moment, there would be no reason on earth that I would ever leave him, but his insecurity hit me square in the gut because it made sense.

Archer reached down and tilted my head slightly, his eyes moving to the side of my neck where the hickey he had given me was–still dark red and angry looking, I was sure. He cringed and let go of me and then brought his hands up. I don't know how to do any of this. You deserve better than the nothing I have to offer you. But it hurts even more to think of letting you go. He sighed, his eyes moving over my face. There are so many things I feel like I still need to figure out and so many things working against us. He brought one hand up and raked it through his hair, his face pained. My brain hurts when I think about it all.