Page 211 of My Ruthless Neighbor

I stop. Then look up.

Archer.

My heart flips and my mouth falls open.

Briefly, I close my eyes then open them. He’s still here.

Dressed in a crème color polo t-shirt, denim jacket and dark wash jeans, Archer is standing in front of me with his eyes trained on me.

He looks devastatingly handsome despite his red-rimmed, tired eyes and a thick stubble and tousled hair. It looks like he hasn’t slept in days. He looks nothing like the polished man who owns one of the leading advertising agencies in the world.

What’s he doing here?

“I came for you.” He says and I realize I said that out loud.

I close my eyes at his deep voice. I missed it. I missed him. When I crack them open, our gazes lock.

He takes a step forward but stills when I hold my hand up.

“Hello? Summer?” Ma’s voice fills the silence between us.

“I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.” I hang up.

“Was that my mother?”

I don’t answer. I just stare at him. “What are you doing here, Archer?”

“I told you—”

“Why?”

“Because I want you back.”

Goldie barks and jumps on him. Archer bends and picks him up in his arms.

Goldie completely loses it then. He squirms and licks his face, wiggling his tail violently.

Archer scratches his fur, pets his head all while staring at me.

“I missed you both.” He says quietly.

I flinch. It hurts too much. I can’t do this. He can’t just waltz in here declaring that he misses us and wants me back.

Stepping closer, I take the still enthusiastic Goldie from his arms. “I’m not doing this. You need to go.”

“Baby,” he reaches for me and I take a step back.

“No.” I swallow thickly, moisture gathering in my eyes. With great effort, I wrench my eyes away from him and shut door in his face.

???

After coming face to face with the man who ripped my heart out not long ago, I slid down the same door I slammed in his face and cried.

He never once called me throughout the time I was away. He didn’t bother checking up on me. And now he claims that he misses me?

I can’t fall for his words again. Because I will if I talk to him again. That is the reason I don’t really blame him for my heartbreak. It’s on me. I read too much into his gestures and little words.

And now I’m learning from my mistakes.

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