Page 82 of Tangled in Vows

“Okay, Mommy.”

The memory leaves behind a hollow ache in my rib cage. It’s one of my last memories of my mom and one of my favorites. It’s been a while since I thought about it and her wild yet kind nature. She always encouraged me to explore and not let myself be boxed in by societal rules or standards if they didn’t feel right. She wanted me to be me unashamedly but to do so with a gentle heart.

And then, she was gone from one day to the next, and I had no choice but to live with my aunt. Nothing could have prepared me for that life. She made no secret of her hatred for my mom, or how she blamed her for luring my dad away from his family and community with her eccentric nature. She didn’t waste a second telling me she wouldn’t allow that behavior in her house.

I never told her how my dad told me how unhappy he was until he met my mom at a local market. She was traveling the country and was checking out the nearby hiking trails. Her smile and enthusiastic nature immediately enamored him. When she asked if he wanted to join her, he said yes without a second thought. She extended her stay in a nearby town to spend more time with him, and once it was time for her to leave after a week, he grabbed his things and left with her. He always saidmy mom was the best thing that ever happened to him and that she saved his life. He never talked about his family, but my mom mentioned once they weren’t friendly people.

My aunt made sure I learned that lesson daily.

“Why am I even wasting my time with you? Trying to change you into a proper young lady when you’re just like her?”

“Just look at you. No man’s going to want all that chub you’re carrying around. No dinner for you for a while.”

“If you only put a little effort into it, maybe you’d look half-decent.”

“I can’t wait for the day I can finally get rid of you.”

“I found someone willing to marry you. You better not screw this up.”

Tears prick the corners of my eyes. I hug my arms around myself, wishing I could pull my younger self into an embrace too.

Holden saved me from much more than a marriage I didn’t want.

The swing halts, then continues, and I hastily wipe my fingers under my eyes.

“Is Holden that bad of a kisser?”

A laugh bursts through my lips at Archer’s ridiculousness.

I shake my head and peek at him. “You’re terrible.”

He holds his hands up in front of him, all fake innocence. “Just checking. You looked like you werereallyenjoying yourself, but maybe I was wrong.”

I cover my face with my hands. “Oh my God, stop it. Please. I’m begging you.”

Archer hums. “Fine. But only because I get a kick out of begging, and you asked so nicely.”

I groan, and Archer snorts.

When my face isn’t burning up anymore, I glance at Archer’s amused expression. But there’s also something else in his irises,something more profound and darker I can’t decipher. “Why are you like that?”

“Like what?”

I shrug. “I don’t know.” I wave my hand around as though that would magically arrange the words in my head in a way that makes sense. “Just you. Being likethis. You don’t hold back and seem to say whatever comes to mind without a filter.”

To my surprise, the upward tilt to his lips drops a bit. He turns his attention away from me and stares at the backyard instead.

“I just think we miss out on a lot because we’re too much in our head. Too prim, too proper. Too worried about what other people think. Not saying what we really feel. Censoring our thoughts.” His chest heaves with a sigh. “I’m not saying we should say everything that goes through our minds and start shit with everyone over everything, but how many opportunities or relationships do we inadvertently miss out on because we hold back?”

He leans his head against the back of the swing and tilts it my way. This might be the first time I’ve ever seen Archer serious. Even when we were younger, and I saw him fight a time or two, he always had a soft upward curve to his lips. Sometimes, he was genuinely amused. Other times, it was more of a mocking variety.

“We spend so much of our lives trying to be the person we think we should be. And for what? To get approval from society? To be loved by the people who are supposed to love us unconditionally anyway? If you’re honest and don’t keep secrets or other barriers between you and the people in your life, you quickly weed out the wrong people for you. And isn’t that kind of the point of your entire existence? To enjoy life to the fullest?”

His gaze is gentle, as if he’s fully aware of the storm he just created inside me. His words have spun into a swirlingcolumn of air, getting ready to decimate everything in their way, completely unstable and destructive, possessing the possibility to turn my entire life upside down with one solid hit.

If I let it happen. If I surrender to it.

Words form in my throat, but it’s so dry I have to swallow several times to get them out. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

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