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“Now what?” I mutter to myself, shivering in my soaking wet clothes while my hair drips freezing cold water down my back and shoulders. I don’t even know where to begin cleaning something like this up.
Something stings my right eye, and I remember the cut on my forehead. Stupidly, I reach up and press my fingers against it, causing myself to hiss in pain. Blood must have been dripping down my face and got in my eye, which feels about right for how this whole evening has been going.
I’m startled out of my depressing thoughts when I hear a knock at the front door. The knocking quickly turns into pounding, and without looking, I know it’s Archer.
Sure enough, I see his large frame on the other side of the glass door. When my gaze meets his, Archer’s eyes widen in concern and he looks like he’s going to kick in the door if I don’t unlock it. I guess I’ll be experiencing all of the pain today instead of spreading it out. Maybe this is for the best. I’ll just rip it off like a Band-Aid and then retreat to lick my wounds in private later.
As soon as the lock clicks on the door, Archer pushes his way inside, his eyes wandering up and down my body, taking in my drowned rat-like appearance. He surprises me by cupping my cheek with one hand and tilting my head up, brushing the fingers of his other hand just beneath the cut on my forehead.
“Baby, what happened? When did you get this? How? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
I thought my well of tears had run dry, but I manage to find a hidden reserve as my eyes prickle with moisture. “I-I… I…” All I can do is stutter like the stupid, naive kid my mom always said I was.
Archer scoops me up in his arms, apparently not caring that I'm getting his clothes all wet. He tightens his hold on me the further he walks into the shop, and then he finally stops in front of the sink, staring at the pipes which look a lot more mangled than I remembered.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I messed up. I was trying to fix the sink again and didn’t want to bother you… But I was so stupid for thinking I could handle it by myself. Clearly, I can’t be trusted with–”
“Slow down, sweetheart,” Archer soothes as he sets me down on the dry part of the counter. I shiver when the cold surface hits my already chilled legs. The sweetest man I’ve ever met takes his jacket off and wraps it around my shoulders, again, not caring that I’m probably going to ruin it.
“The sink,” I start again, though it’s obvious by now what happened from just looking at the crime scene. “I was going to work on it myself. But I forgot to shut off the water valve first. I thought… maybe you’d be proud of me if I could do it on my own, but then…” God, I’m so pathetic. I can’t look at Archer, too afraid of the disappointment I’ll see written all over his face.
“Deliah,” Archer says in a soft but firm tone. “Look at me.” I shake my head no. “Baby, please, look at me.”
I sniffle and then prepare myself for what I’m about to see. Only, instead of anger, frustration, or loathing, I see overwhelming tenderness and concern. My breath catches in my throat, and then I choke out a sob, leaning forward and collapsing into Archer’s chest.
He blankets me in safety and strength, his arms wrapping around my back as he presses me further into his embrace. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry for whoever made you feel unworthy of love, or like you have to be perfect to earn respect. That’s not who I am, and that’s not how I’m going to treat the woman I love.”
I lean back to look at him in the face. Did he really say…?
“You love me?” I whisper, my brows furrowed in confusion. “But I screwed up. Big time. And the worst part is…” I take a shuddering breath, then look to the left, where our shared wall has a few inches of standing water along the edge. “The worst part is I probably ruined your work site, too. How can you still want me after that?”
Archer loops his fingers around my hand, placing my palm on his chest, right over his heart. He does the same to me, resting his large, warm hand over my heart. “This is what matters. This, right here,” he murmurs. Everything else is just stuff. We can replace it. Deadlines can be moved back. Accidents happen, sweetheart. That doesn’t make you stupid or unloveable.”
While it’s hard to wrap my mind around his words, I’m starting to accept them as truth. It’s the exact opposite of how I grew up, but isn’t that why I moved out here? To build a life away from every bad memory and replace them with good ones?
“But…”
“Trust me, Delilah. Even if you don’t believe my words for yourself yet, trust that I believe them enough for both of us. I’m not going anywhere, love.”
I fall into his arms once more, letting him lift me up and carry me out to his truck.
“Wait, what about the water?” I ask as Archer buckles me in. “And the mess? Everything I screwed up? I can’t just leave it like this.”
"Relax, baby," Archer soothes. "I'll make some calls. It looks worse than it is. With a shop vac to suck up all the water, I bet the clean-up will take less than an hour. Plus, you have a tile floor, not carpet, so that's good."
“Shop vac,” I repeat. “Where can I find one of those? Do you think I can rent one, or do I have to buy it?”
“You don’t have to do anything,” Archer says, his eyes darting to the cut on my forehead and then wandering down the rest of my body with my cold, wet clothes sticking to my skin. “I’m going to call the guys. We have a shop vac next door. Seriously, with three or four of my crew working on this, both places will be good as new tomorrow.”
“I can’t, I mean, there’s no way I can accept that. Other people shouldn’t have to clean up my mistakes.”
Archer simply kisses my cheek and closes the passenger side door before going around to his side and hopping in the driver's seat. He starts up the truck and then takes my hand in his. "This is what it means to have a family. To have friends who want good things for you. To have someone protect you and love you for the incredible woman you are."
“I don’t know what to say,” I tell him truthfully, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Say yes. Say you’ll let me take care of you tonight and every other night. Say you’ll give me a chance to show you how much you mean to me and how good I’ll be to you.”
His kindness and understanding is overwhelming. I squeeze his hand and nod, holding back more tears. “Yes,” I murmur. “I want that.”
