Page 194 of My Ruthless Neighbor

For a moment, I am too stunned to do anything. Afraid the moment would be over if I so much as breathed wrong.

My heart takes it all in, my eyes taking a video, filing it in my memories so I could replay it over and over later.

Then his laughter dies down slowly, he looks down, the smile completely wiped off his face now. He gets up. “Order whatever you want. I’m going to take a shower.”

My appetite vanishes. I grab his hand before he could shut me out completely. “Archer…”

He doesn’t even look at me. As if he doesn’t even want to give me a glimpse of his feelings that might be reflecting in his eyes.

“Summer, don’t.” His voice isn’t hard. It’s brimming with sadness.

I want to take him in my arms and beg him to open up to me. I don’t care about my self-esteem at this point. I want him to stop feeling that he doesn’t deserve happiness. I want to ask him why he feels this way.

I desperately cling to his hand, telling him without words that I am here for him and that he doesn’t have to run from me. That he can trust me and let me in.

“Please.” He says hoarsely and my grip loosens. I let him go and watch as he walks away from me.

???

That night sleep didn’t come. I lay awake next to Archer, the scene from the dinner playing on loop in my mind. My heart is still aching from the way he pulled away from me.

One moment he was behaving like a perfect boyfriend and the other, he made me feel like an outsider. A stranger who isn’t allowed to peek inside him.

Will it always be like this between us?

He may be sleeping next to me but it feels like we are miles apart.

Closing my eyes, I will myself to fall asleep. But the thoughts keep running in my head, loud and screeching.

I twist and turn, changing sides to find a comfortable position to sleep. But nothing helps.

When almost an hour passes, I give up. The gloominess won’t go unless I distract myself. I should listen to music. It always helps.

Nodding to myself, I reach for my phone. I’m looking for my AirPods when Archer shifts. My hands halt, grimacing. Did I wake him?

I stay frozen for a few beats. Then resume searching after making sure he is still asleep. I’m sifting through the drawer’s content when he moves again. This time with a pained groan.

I twist around to face him. There’s a frown marring his forehead. I scoot closer and stroke his chest over his white t-shirt. It’s a little damp, his body tense.

Reaching up, I caress the skin between his brows, trying to ease his frown. I lower my head and press my lips to his forehead. “Go to sleep,” I murmur against his skin and feel his facial muscle relaxing.

I kiss his temple, running my fingers in his hair. When his breathing evens out, I lay one last kiss on his brow and start pulling back.

I gasp when his hand closes on my wrist.

He mumbles something in his sleep, his eyes still shut. He speaks again but I can’t quite make out his words.

I reach out and am about to stroke his cheek when he says, “Amy.” My hand freezes in the air.

At first, I think I heard it wrong but when he says that name again, my heart falls.

My hand falls limp at my side.

For a second, I watch him suffer in his nightmare with a lump in my throat.

Then slowly, I shake myself out of the stupor and resume soothing him once again. Kissing his temple, caressing his chest, I help him relax.

When he is sound asleep, I detach my body from his, face away from him and weep softly into my pillow.

---