Page 93 of The Archer Brothers

I HAVE NEVER SEEN someone so independent, especially with only one arm, as Ryley is. I thought I could help out by being here, but I was sorely mistaken. Everything that it takes me two hands to do, she can do with one and do it ten times better. All that she’s done is reaffirm what I’ve always said about her; she’s a warrior.

Mywarrior.

Being at Ryley’s… in our home that we bought together… is exactly where I want to be, except I want to bewithher. I’m at the point where I don’t know if I’m moving a step forward with her or three steps back. This morning she met Nate for breakfast and I’m trying not to act jealous, but I am. He has a hold on her that I can’t break through. I know the honorable thing to do is to step away. To let them be together and build a life even if it’s not what I want or deserve. I would understand if I had broken up with her, but I didn’t. I never wanted to leave her in the first place. I just wanted to do my job and protect our country so Americans don’t have to lock their doors at night.

EJ and I have been spending some quality time together. We do everything from watching cartoons in the morning, playing outside, walking Deefur, helping Ryley make dinner, and then me tucking him in at night. Right now that’s about my favorite thing to do and it usually takes Ryley waking me to get me out of his bed. He’s the best of Ryley and me and I hate that I wasn’t here when he was born.

The house is quiet when I return from dropping EJ off at Carole and Jensen’s. I remember when I was his age that going to my grandparents’ house was the highlight of my life. No rules, tons of junk food and my grandfather had the best train collection. Just thinking about those trains brings a smile to my face and reminds me that I need to ask my mom about them. I know we had them after he passed away and maybe she kept them. I think setting them up with EJ would be good father and son bonding.

Bonding that could lead to him calling me “Daddy”. I still hold out hope.

I follow the sound of soft music coming from upstairs. If this were any other time I’d hope she was in the shower and I could join her but even if she is, at best I’ll sit on her bed and wait for her to come out. It’s hard to accept that the one person you’re in love with loves you, but can’t be with you. It’s even worse knowing it’s your own brother standing in the way.

I find her in her bedroom dressed in one of those skimpy tank tops and boxer shorts and surrounded by papers. She’s really not leaving much to the imagination and lord knows mine is flying at mock speed to the danger zone. I listen to the music, recognizing the songs I haven’t heard in a long time but know just the same. It’s our playlist. She’s playing songs I put on cd’s for times when we had to drown out certain noises, and music that I gave her to listen to before I left.

“What’s going on in here?” I ask, pointing to the box and papers all over the floor. She looks up at me with tears streaming down her face. I immediately go to her, dropping to my knees and cupping her face. My thumbs do their best job at wiping away the tears, but the sadness in her eyes is still there.

“Babe, talk to me,” I plead. When she shakes her head I sit down next to her and pick up one of the sheets of paper.

Hey Babe,

It sucks here. I’m going to tell you the truth because I know you’ll listen. But first I’m going to tell you how much I love you and how much I miss you. Okay, back to the suck. It’s gross, brown and dirty all the time. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if I never go to the beach again it’ll be too soon. Will you still love me if we become people who only go to the Country Club?

Love, Archer

I pick up one after another, reading the words that I wrote her from basic training, deployments and when I was just miles away from her while she was in college. Letter after letter of my life in detail, written just for her, are spread out on the bedroom floor. I remember everything that I wrote to her, like when my dad died and even though I came home and saw her, I still put it into words because she would listen and I needed to get it off my chest.

Dear Ryley,

How are you? I wish I could say that I’m well, but things are hard. Aside from missing you, everything about Afghanistan is hell. Sometimes I wonder how our lives would be different if I had accepted a scholarship to play football or baseball, instead of enlisting. But then I think about how I love serving my country and how I know I’m protecting you and think that I need to kick my own ass for second-guessing my career choice. I know it’s only months until I can see you again, but when you break down the hours, it seems like forever.

I love you, Babe.

Love, Archer

“You kept them all?”

“Yeah. I had them in a box in the attic and something just told me I needed to bring them out.”

Hey Babe,

I just left your room and can’t stop thinking about what we just did. If your father knew, he’d kill me, but damn it if that wasn’t the hottest, sexiest moment of my life.

“This one,” I say, holding up the letter. “Do you remember this night?”

Ryley leans into me and looks at the letter. Her breasts brush against my arm and are on full display for my bugged out eyes. I swallow hard and will the sensation growing in my shorts to go away. Tonight is not the night for a serious session of dry humping, even if it’s what I want.

“Oh, I remember,” she says, leaning into me more instead of moving away from me.

“Me too. It was my last night home before my orders came in. You still had to graduate so you couldn’t come with me. I hated that. We had dinner with your mom and dad, but you had a curfew and I respected that. I truly did. But that night I was sitting in my room thinking about you and I needed you. It wasn’t some chance to blow my nut or to just have sex. My body needed yours in a way I can’t describe. I was never more thankful for the training I had until that night, when I climbed the tree by your window and landed on your roof without waking your dad.

“You wanted me just as bad. I remember your little whimpers as we kissed and how your back arched off the hardwood floor when I entered you. Making love to you that night was the most intense feeling in my life. I don’t know if it was the danger, or fact that our lips never left each other. Every moan, every gasp and every inhale, we shared as one.” As I’m recounting this night, her fingers trail over my body. Her fingers trace the outline of my muscles. Goosebumps rise in their wake, making the hair on my arms stand at attention. I look at her and it’s a mistake because I want her more than ever. Ryley’s eyes are hooded and full of lust. Her bottom lip is pulled between her teeth. It’s her sign, and one I am very familiar with. I swallow hard and continue retelling a story that she knows as well as I do.

“I got on that bus the next morning a changed man. I knew deep in my heart that no one would ever compare to you. That no one else would ever own my heart and soul. That night you branded me as yours.” The entire time I’m recounting this story, I can’t stop staring at her. I silently hope that what I say will remind her how we feel about each other and she will finally make a decision... theonlydecision as far as I’m concerned.

I don’t know how much longer I can wait.

“I couldn’t believe that we did that, on the floor no less, with my parents down the hall.”

---