Page 136 of Beautiful Thing

My bestie scoffs. “Bitch, you couldneverget rid of me that easily. Never. Next excuse.”

I offer her a sheepish smile. “Plus, there’s the age gap.”

Ziggy snorts. “You’ve been with a guy your age. How’d that work out for you?”

I roll my eyes.

“He’s only like ten years older,” Inez argues. “That’s not too much.”

“Eleven,” I correct her.

“So, what? It takes longer for guys to mature. This just puts you on the same page,” Karli points out.

“What if he wants kids someday?” I throw out there. “I haven’t decided yet if I want to have another baby.”

Inez shrugs. “You’ve got a lot of time to decide. A man’s sperm basically has no biological clock. He could be out there making babies when he’s like eighty.”

“Charming.” I cringe, imagining poor Archer four decades from now, changing diapers and pushing a stroller.

The conversation veers off as Inez tells us about some actor on her TV show who just had another kid at eighty-five years old with his much younger fourth wife. Everyone’s trying to do the math and we realize that the kid’s oldest sibling is old enough to be their grandparent.To each his own, I guess.

It has me doing my own math. If I wanted a second child in a few years, that’d make Archer about forty. I’m not sure he’d want to be starting fresh with a newborn baby at that point in his life.

I sigh again, trying not to feel sad.

My friends all have valid points. But they don’t get it.Some things are just not meant to be. Even things that feel really, really good. Like being with Archer.

I know I will be miserable without him. But, I’ve considered it all, and I just see no other choice. Yet again, in my life, I need to make a tough, adult decision. No taking the easy wayout here. I have to focus on being a grown-up, supporting myself financially, managing a household, and taking care of my kid.

Playing pretend with Archer was fun. But I have to move on.

Half an hour later, I’m locking up the house and the girls are climbing back into their cars.

That’s when a taxi pulls up in the driveway, gravel crunching under the tires.

We all stand around, on edge, waiting to see who will emerge from the vehicle.

The back door finally creaks open and a woman steps out, looking tired and haggard and broken.

I take in the gray hairs woven into the familiar mahogany strands, the mascara smudged beneath her eyes that are the same shade as mine.

I take a step forward, my eyes widening in shock. “Mom?”

56

ARCHER

“You’ve got to be the only man on the planet who actually helps his girlfriend moveout.” Darius shakes his head, pointing his paint roller at me.

“Yeah, I can’t tell if you’re a dumbass, or if this is just part of some grand masterplan to get her to fall more in love with you,” Mason adds, pouring some paint into his tray. “Is this reverse psychology or something? ‘Cause I don’t get it.”

“I’m going to go with thedumbassoption,” Nolan grumbles, getting down on the floor in the hallway with a roll of painter’s tape.

My brothers laugh like stupid hyenas.I shake my head, not saying anything.They’re probably right. I’m probably a dumbass.But as long as they keep painting, I guess I can handle their ribbing.

Ronan is away playing hockey. Felix is still on his honeymoon with Daphne. But Darius and Nolan and Mason are here with me at Layla’s new house, painting the walls before she and Sky move in.

It wasn’t a planned thing. I just got the idea earlier today. I saw her eyeballing this color of paint at the hardware store.She was standing there, staring longingly at this eggshell blue paint swatch between ringing up customers, and I just wanted to surprise her.

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