Page 57 of You Cake My Breath Away

I’m filled with a sense of peace when his hand lands on my thigh. He shifts the truck into gear, and his wipers groan, oscillating as they try to clear the rain fast enough so he can see out of thewindshield.

Streetlights pass quickly as we head towards my house and fight the rising waters. He was right, my car would’ve been swallowed beneath the underpasses. When the rain blankets the window and there’s no chance of moving forward safely, Archer pulls off the side of the road and into a bank parking lot.

“We’ll wait it out here,” he says, turning the heat on low.

I unclick my seatbelt and rest my head on the seat, listening to the rain striking the window. It’s peaceful sitting here with Archer as chaos ensues right outside the door. Horns blare, tires screech, splashing water up and over the truck, but all I can focus on is Archer’s hand on my leg, his fingers inching up closer to my hand. Making the first move has never been my strong suit—the one time I did, I ended up sending our friendship down a completely different path—but I move out of my comfort zone and entwine our hands.

“There’s an estate sale up in Waco I’d like to check out.”

“Really?” I ask, an edge of worry to my voice. “Are you looking to buy another house?”

“No.” He pulls my hand onto his lap. My gold bracelet glows against his denim pants as he fingers the charm on there, and my wedding ring pulses around my finger, reminding me it’s still there. A flutter of muscle in Archer’s jaw works, and I wonder if seeing Jessie’s ring still on my hand hurts him. “I thought we could go see if they have a display case. It’s an old bed and breakfast that ran a deli out of the bottom floor.”

A smile cracks my cheeks. “That would be awesome.”

“I’ll drive in case you actually find one and need a way to bring it home.”

“Thank you.” I squeeze his hand. “For everything.”

He lifts our conjoined hands to his lips and kisses the back of my hand. “My pleasure.”

In the back of my mind, I know the closer we get to the soft opening next month means it’s closer to the time Archer might be leaving if he gets the spot on the show, but I try to push it away and focus on the here and now.

The storm slows enough to where we can safely get back on the road, and a whine bubbles up in my throat. I squash it down, thankful to the heavens that we had this time together.

Archer walks me to my front door. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight.”

Part of me wants to invite him inside, to finally shed the shackles I’ve placed on myself since Jessie died, but the shame I didn’t feel earlier rears its ugly head, chastising me for even thinking about sleeping with Archer so soon after losing my husband, and in his house.

Hell, if I can’t even manage to make the bed without breaking down there’s no way I’d be able to welcome someone else between the sheets.

He leans down to kiss me, but disgusted with myself, I turn my head so he meets my cheek.

“Time,” I breathe. “I need time.”

He steps back and shoves his hands into his pockets. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“You’re fine, you didn’t,” I ramble and shake my head, unable to look at him. “I just don’t know how to navigate whatever this is.”

“Neither do I, but we’ll figure it out together.” A firm squeeze on my fingers has me looking up at him. His eyes are soft, and the apples of his cheeks are slightly pink. “We go at your pace and see where it goes.”

“Thank you.” I squeeze his hand back.

“I’ll see you soon.”

“See you then.” I head inside the dark house, foregoing turningon the lights.

I struggle to look myself in the mirror as I brush my teeth and put on my favorite shirt of Jessie’s. Normally the worn edges of the Silverstein shirt bring me comfort, but all I feel is disgrace sliding down my back. I fooled around with my husband’s best friend and then came home to sleep in the bed we used to share together. Nausea seeps into my core, and I gather covers to sleep on the couch. Without the endorphins from being around Archer bouncing around inside my head, anxiety seeps into my core, spreading out over my shaky limbs. My heart rate climbs, my stomach cramps, and a heavy weight settles on my chest as I struggle to catch my breath. Every potential outcome of this thing with Archer spins inside my mind on a carousel.

Heavy rain and an emergency call with my therapist are the only things I can count on to help me calm down enough to finally fall asleep.

Chapter thirty

Tilly

I’m entirely too well dressed and caffeinated for a four-hour adventure to Waco for an estate sale, but I needed the confidence boost to get through today. After speaking with my therapist, she helped me understand that sometimes my emotions will feel erratic, even causing panic attacks, when it comes to moving on in the next portion of my life without Jessie. That even though I can feel happiness and excitement about this new thing with Archer, I might still have lingering guilt about moving on, but that there’s nothing wrong with that. It’ll take my mind and heart a bit of time to catch up to each other.

My long, flowy dress whips around me as I putter throughout the house, cleaning up in an effort to appease my nerves. Sun streaks through the bay window inside my kitchen, and I fight the urge to close the curtains and darken up the place, an exact replica of the warring emotions inside my body.

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