I wanted to tell him that we could do this, even if I didn’t know what that looked like.
I wanted this reunion to go perfectly, and maybe that had been my problem from the start.
Nothing we’d done was perfect. Nothing had gone the way I’d imagined. And maybe ... maybe that was how it was meant to be allalong. The most imperfect parts of us, laid bare. Archer never hid who he was, and neither did I.
We’d shown each other our worst, and still ... still my heart ached to be near him.
Yes, I wanted to see him. Wanted to support him, no matter who was watching.
I sucked in a quick breath and met her eyes. “Yes. Yes, I want to go.”
“For the love of God, please go change,” Ness yelled from around the corner.
The clock on the wall showed a time that made my brows pop high. “I don’t even know if I have time, at this point.”
Analise was courtroom ready in a knee-length summer dress with cap sleeves and subtle makeup. We both looked down at my Backstreet Boys T-shirt and winced.
Ness popped her head out, a wide grin on her face. “I have a shirt you can borrow.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I’m quite done borrowing your clothes, thank you very much.”
Chapter Thirty
Archer
“Analise, we’re going to be late.”
“No, we’re not.”
“Where were you? You didn’t tell me you were running an errand.”
She rolled her eyes. “I was home in plenty of time, calm down.”
“I am. I’m so fucking calm.”
“Is that why your face is turning red?”
I yanked at the neck of my collared shirt. “Probably because I can’t breathe. It’s too tight.”
“I told you not to wear a tie. You’re just handing in some paperwork and showing her your letter, it’s not like you’re going on trial.”
It felt like Iwasgoing on trial. The calm I’d felt leaving Dad’s was long fucking gone. My entire life, there’d been a plan laid out for me on how to proceed. Eat these foods. Run this many miles. Do this many reps. Lift weights. Go to practice. Go to class. Do your homework. Get better. Get better. Get better.
Be the best.
But you hit a certain point when there was no one forcing you to do anything.
Life became yours to mess up. And yours to change, should you realize that staying the same wasn’t an option.
Analise and I jogged into the courthouse, and at the sight ofmultiplepaparazzi in the parking lot, I fought the urge to break into a run, just to get this over with. Clutched in my hand were two envelopes.
One was for the judge, something I’d practiced all night.
One was for Remi, if by some miracle she decided to come.
If she didn’t, I’d call her. I’d ask her out on a date. I’d give it to her then.
I wasn’t done with this woman. Not by a fucking long shot.