Chapter forty-three

Archer

Present

Beer bottles clink and roll around as I manage to sit up and take in my surroundings. It’s dark, and when my hands meet the cold floor, I shiver as the frigid air leaks beneath the office door. I couldn’t sleep in the bed where she belonged beside me, nor on the couch where we should’ve been laughing, cuddled up together by the fire.

I let her believe she wasn’t worth the fight.

Heat wasn’t a luxury I deserved last night.

My spine cracks when I get off the ground and flip the switch, fluorescent light burning my eyes. Out in the main garage, I prattle about, organizing things to try and keep my mind off the woman I should’ve woken up beside.

The metal worktop vibrates as my phone buzzes, jangling wrenches and bolts along the surface. Outside of calling Shantel last night to check on Tilly after she refused to answer my call, I haven’t talked to anyone. I couldn’t even tell Shantel how bad I messed up. She made me promise to give Tilly the space to deal with what happened.

Dark clouds move quickly overhead when I open the garage doors. A gust of wind pushes me back inside, a warning of an incoming storm. I laugh at the irony. My life has turned into a hurricane of bad decisions, and those decisions ruined everything.

I ruined everything.

My hands itch to grab my keys, to drive to Tilly’s house and beg her to forgive me, but I don’t. I knew years ago I wasn’t good enough for her, that she deserved more than I could ever give her. My parents’ words echo inside my head.It should’ve been you.

And this time I agree.

I’ve done nothing but bring hurt to those around me.

My brother was hurting, and I knew I shouldn’t have pulled over at that gas station. Even though I couldn’t have saved Jessie from his aneurysm, I caused him pain by treating his wife awfully because I couldn’t stomach being around her.

And I hurt Tilly.

Out of all of those people, Tilly is the hurt I wish I could take back. She let me climb the walls of her heart and find a morsel of peace I’ve needed for years. And I threw it all away by being dishonest, by not owning up to my choices in the past so we could have a future.

Can I fix what I’ve broken?

Thunder rumbles across the sky, and a stampede of feelings crowd my chest. I shut the garage door and grab my phone and keys. If I have any chance of fixing this with Tilly, I can’t let more time pass between us.

Rain pelts the windshield as I head down my driveway. Something stops me at the edge of the road, a warning sign blaring in the distant corners of my mind. I pick up my phone, eyes landing on a voicemail from the number I recognize as the HGTV producer’s.

Air leaks from my parted lips and a weight settles in my stomach. I shift my car into park with shaky hands and press redial.

“Gideon Roberts.”

I clear my throat. “Mr. Roberts, it’s Archer Wilson.”

“Archer,” he exclaims, clapping in the background. “Glad to hear from you.”

I imagine him, heels kicked up on the desk, leaning back in his cushy office chair with a pen in his mouth while my whole world is crashing down around me.

“The casting director loved your interviews, but we’ve decided to…” My mind fills in the words,go with another host, and my shoulders fall. I clench my fist around the steering wheel, and slump into the seat to finish listening to the cordial conversation. “…want to start shooting ASAP. Are you still interested in hosting?”

I rear back, confused by what he’s asking. They want me to host? Host what?

“I’m sorry, Mr. Roberts, you cut out,” I lie, hoping he doesn’t catch onto my distraction. “Can you repeat that?”

“The network changed direction with the type of show you’ll be hosting. They wantStud Findersto be a reality show where carpenters and interior designers redo a house while trying not to fall in love. It’ll debut in spring.”

A reality dating show? That’s not the type of hosting I expected, but it’s still a foot in the door.

“Still interested?”