Archer moves off the bed of Bob’s truck and slips into his clothes, giving me the space I need to calm down. He places my pants on the tailgate and folds the covers before he takes them back into the barn.

Through damp eyelashes, I can’t decipher how he’s feeling, but my chest feels like it’s been run through a vacuum sealer, stealing all of my air. Last night was…amazing. It was more than I could have hoped for or expected, but the lead brick sitting in my stomach sours it. Am I going to lose more bits and pieces of Jessie the longer this thing with Archer goes on? And is Archer going to push me away now that he sees how broken I still am?

God, my head is a mess.

I dress quickly, worried now that it’s daylight people can see us and hoping to get back in the truck before I have to meet his eyes again. I know I can’t expect him to understand how I’m feeling, or to be okay with it, but I hope he’ll give me the time to figure it out.

He slides into the front seat. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” I murmur, twisting my hands in my lap.

He shifts into gear and turns the truck around, heading back up the hill toward the main house. Bob greets us with a large breakfast, and I can barely manage to eat a piece of toast without wanting to throw up. Thankfully, we don’t dawdle. We load my display case from the garage and head down the road.

“A friend had the tire you needed,” Bob says, pulling up to Archer’s truck. They get out and start moving the display case over. “He came by and replaced it for you.”

“That’s so sweet, Mr. Bob.” I give the old man a weak smile.

“How much do we owe ya?” Archer asks.

“Nothing. We take care of our own out here.” He shakes Archer’s hand and then turns to me.

Already overly sensitive, my hands snake further around my body. I’m still too stunned, too raw from allowing Archer to touch me that I can’t bring myself to return his gesture.

“Thank you for all your kindness,” Archer says, trying to diffuse the awkward moment.

“Y’all take care.” Bob waves as he drives away.

Getting into the truck takes superhuman strength. It’s a four-hour drive back to San Antonio and seeing as we haven’t spoken but ten words to each other, it’ll be torture. I know it’s my fault, that my reaction to waking up with his arms around me is what caused all this, but I’m not sure how I can fix it.

I’m scared.

Now that I’ve had him, will he be taken away like my mom and Jessie? If I let him into my heart, let his skin imprint on mine, and he leaves, I’ll be back in the same exact position I was when Jessie passed.

“I know you’re scared.” Archer’s voice is filled with resignation.

The fact that he knows me well enough to know that’s where my head went is another reason this is terrifying. He’s deeply woven into the fabric of who I am.

I can’t lose him too.

I need to know if this is just fun or something…more.

My limbs are rigid, teeth clenched in preparation for this conversation.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

He reaches out to grasp my hand, but I tense, keeping the death grip I have on my legs. My body is like a computer in safe mode, trying to protect the critical parts of my heart. I miss his touch, the familiarity I found in it last night, but my mind is a jumbled mess drowning in guilt yet reaching for the future.

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

Words bubble out of my mouth, overflowing like a cauldron. “But I freaked out on you this morning and probably made you feel like shit. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I knew what would happen, and I feel terrible.”

“Stop.” His hand lands on top of mine, and as I pull back my ring scraps along his palm. He clenches his hand a moment then places it back on the wheel. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, Tilly. I know this is hard for you. And I’m sorry if I made it more difficult.”

My shoulders fall as his words soothe some of my anxiety. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Arch. It’s me that’s broken.”

“You’re not broken.” He turns and looks at me. “Do you understand me?”

I grumble a response.