Page 60 of Red River

Igor, of course, was nowhere to be seen, as if he didn't want to be a part of our family anymore.

Family…?

I closed my eyes for a second.

Don’t think. Don’t think. Calm down, River. Give it time.

In the empty space I forced myself to create inside, my thoughts drifted back to what Archer had told me—he’d met some members of my… original family.

Family I had been part of ages ago. No longer, though.

I’d lost them because Thomas didn’t want to share me with them, and they didn’t want to share me with him. And now, I was still keeping that distance—out of my own pride.

They had been right from the start.

No matter the circumstances, I had created my own mess. I had chosen this path in life. Now I had to deal with the consequences—no sugarcoating.

Was I really that different from Thomas? He had failed and run away. What would my future be?

***

The next few days passed pretty much the same way, except I worked from 8 to 12. I remembered what Oliver had told me—that Archer had suggested I take a break from my job—but I wasn’t ready to have that conversation with him yet, even though Isowanted to.

Working at the customer office of some anonymous corporation was draining me. From time to time, I glanced at my violin case lying on the bed, the urge to stand up and play growing inside me.

Could I ever have a job related to music? I was pessimistic. I only had a music high school diploma and an associate degree in Communications and Business Administration. Despite working part-time, I was so mentally exhausted after just a few hours that I was constantly fighting drowsiness, barely winning.

Archer, on the other hand, worked full-time as a security tester, but his schedule was split into two parts—7 to 11 am, then after his midday break, from 5 to 9 pm.

In the mornings, the boys usually hung out with Oliver by the pool or played on the finished sections of the obstacle course.

Lake and Aiden often cared for the chickens and spent time near the coop. After lunch, Archer would join them for exercise sessions before continuing to build the course. Sometimes, they’d head down to the lake with him to swim.

At night, after 10 pm, Archer and I met for our late-night jerking-off sessions.

But we didn’t repeat the kiss. I had a feeling Archer knew exactly where that could lead—and he didn’t want to risk it.

Every morning, Archer picked up Igor for jogging, which my son now joined without protest.

From what I knew, they ran in total silence—not much progress there. Other than that, Igor didn’t participate in any other activities. He mostly stayed in his room, editing videos and shorts from old footage he’d recorded before Thomas passed or streaming live while playing computer games.

School was supposed to start on Monday, but on Saturday, Archer took Van to a climbing center in Darton. Van had been ecstatic.

Thomas had never taken him to such a place, even discouraging him from pursuing it, which had left Van frustrated and unhappy. Seeing Archer support his passion meant a lot to him. They were gone for a couple of hours, and when they came back, it was obvious—Van had a new idol.

Archer’s energy seemed endless. After returning, he spent two hours with Lake, helping him plant new vegetables in the greenhouse. Lake especially wanted a bed of green peas, which he loved, and since we were in a southern state, now was the right time to sow them.

Later, Archer listened to Lake play his keyboard, then headed to the pool with Aiden to teach him how to dive. Aiden was afraid to put his head underwater without pinching his nose, but Archer was patient with him.

I was impressed by how much time and effort Archer put into bonding with my kids. He made sure to spend time with each and every one of them, and the result was obvious—they all flocked around him, competing for his attention.

His youth gave him an unexpected advantage—he simply had more energy and could engage with them on their level. He probably still remembered what it was like to be a young boy himself.

There were moments during the day when I’d be sitting on the couch with Archer beside me, and just as I was savoring the closeness, Lake would squeeze himself between us, eagerly showing Archer his latest drawings on the tablet, asking for his opinion.

I’d steal glances at Archer’s impressive biceps, so close yet just out of reach, my fingers itching to touch him. But with Lake’s curly golden head blocking my view of Archer’s face, I could only sit back and sigh.

Of course, I truly appreciated how much he did for my kids—how patient and kind he was with them. But a selfish part of me wished I could have him to myself, even for a little while.

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