Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
She pats my thigh. “I know, sweetie. A mom always knows.”
“I figured, but I wanted to say it.” We’re both quiet for a moment, and then, as if she’s somehow unlocked something inside me, something that makes me feel closer to my mom than I ever have, I admit, “I remember you…with Ella. You hugged me…told me you were sorry, that it would be okay.” That’s not something I’ve ever let myself think about, not something I’ve shared with Archer. I’m so bad at that, talking about all the shit inside me. I can share it with El, but maybe it’s time I start trying to figure out how to share it with more people.
It’s not until a drop of moisture hits the butterfly in my hand that I realize I’m crying.
“Oh, Easton. I didn’t want to say anything. I thought so much about you over the years. That was one of the hardest days of my life. You have never left my mind since. Maybe this is weird, or hell, maybe it was meant to be, but you always have a place here with us. It just feels right.”
“I…thank you.” I swipe my hand over my eyes to wipe away the moisture, ignore the tension in my gut, and lean over, giving her a quick hug. When I pull back, I set one of the folded butterflies in her hand.
Then I stand up and walk toward Archer, and for the first time in my life, I have some small idea of what it’s like to have a mom.
“Are you going to play with us, Easton?” Meadow asks.
“Yeah, come play with us,” Archer says, and though I’ve never done something like this, I agree.
We play basketball for a good half hour before heading inside for dessert. When we’re finished, Cora says, “We should get home. I have to work tomorrow.”
Archer approaches Simone before his sister, hugging her and then whispering something to her baby belly. It makes my stomach shaky when I watch him.
“We should probably head out too,” Archer says, followed by Cass. Simone and Cora leave, and then we say our goodbyes to Archer’s folks, Cass and Meadow walking out with us.
“Thanks for having us,” Cass tells Archer. “And it was good seeing you, East. Look forward to doing it again.”
“Thanks. Me too,” I say and mean it.
I tense when Meadow gives me a hug goodbye. Without letting myself think about it too much, I open my hand, the second of the two butterflies I folded resting on my palm. “I thought you might want this.”
“Wow. Did you make this? It’s so cool! Thank you, Easton.” This time when she hugs me, my body isn’t too tight at all…and I even hug her back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Archer
“I hope my mom didn’t bother you,” I tell East as I drive us back to his place. I don’t think she did. I tried to give them their privacy and respect that East doesn’t need me to coddle him, but I couldn’t help peeking over at them. They’d been in a serious conversation, and he’d wiped his eyes, but then he’d hugged her. It had been quick, but seeing it damn near lit my soul on fire.
“She didn’t. She’s…great. She shared a really cool story about my mom. Daphne saw her at the ice cream parlor with Morgan and Rhett. She was pregnant with me, and she talked to your mom about my name. It…hell, Arch. It made me feel close to her—both your mom and mine.”
I swear it’s like my heart explodes hearing that. Everything with East hits differently that way. “She never told me that. I’m glad they had that moment, glad she shared it with you.”
“Because of you,” he replies, turning to look at me as I pull down his driveway. “I can’t… I don’t… Everything is different because of you. I keep waiting for something to go wrong.”
I park the car and turn it off quickly. “Hey, no. Nothing’s going to go wrong. You got me, East. You didn’t try, but you got me hooked, and that’s never gonna change. Whatever happens, we’ll get through it together. I can’t fix the world for you, but I can promise you’ll never have to face anything alone anymore.”
This time, it’s East reaching for me, his hands holding my face as he pulls me closer, our lips connecting with a spark. He leads the way, his tongue exploring my mouth, feeding me needy little sounds. The press of his lips, the sweep of his tongue, tells me East isn’t ready to use words yet. I feel it in the way he holds me, the way he devours me, that this is more than just physical want. He doesn’t need words to tell me what I feel to the marrow of my bones—that Easton Swift loves me too. And hopefully, he’s on the way to loving himself.