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That is answered with a different screen. A picture of the two of us at the park when we watched theStar Warsmarathon together pops up, and I freeze. He’s calling me.
I don’t give myself time to think before I hit accept.
“Hello?”
“I miss you, too,” is his immediate response and I bite my lip, but nothing can stop the onslaught of tears that break from my eyes.
“I’m sorry.” The words are forced, and I have to stop myself from sounding like I’m crying. I already feel pathetic enough.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” His smooth voice calms me and I take another deep breath, we sit on the phone in silence, though I have a thousand things I want to say, I just don’t know where to start. “What are you doing tonight?”
The words don’t sound like he’s leading me into anything, but I answer, “Staring at this basket in front of me.”
He chuckles and I let the sound wash over me. “That’s good. Maybe you should open it.”
I bite my lip. “Maybe.”
“Viv.” He drops his voice low, and I can picture him lying on his bed, listening to me talk. “Do you need another sad night?”
That cues the tears. The biggest of the tears, the crocodile of all the crocodile tears. “Yeah,” I whisper, choking back the tears and leaning back on the couch.
“Okay,” he says soothingly. “Let’s do it together. I have takeout on its way to you and me. You can dive into your basket and find wine, chocolate and a Rubik’s Cube.”
I laugh, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. “A Rubik’s Cube?”
“Yeah.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “Remember when we’d compete against each other and see who could solve it first?”
I reach over to the basket and pull it onto the couch. “Yes. You cheated.”
“I did not cheat!” he exclaims loudly, and I giggle. I always said he cheated, but I knew he was just better at it than I was. “I was skilled.”
“Mm-hmm,” I hum, feeling a weight lift off of me at our easy banter. I pull the cube out and laugh. “You already opened it?”
“Yes, and messed it up so you can’t cheat.”
“How do I know yours isn’t already done?”
He sighs. “Hold on.”
I wait a few breaths and then a picture comes through. It’s of a messed-up Rubik’s cube. “How do I know that you didn’t find this on the internet?”
He sighs again. “Oh my god. You haven’t changed.”
I laugh a little then and we continue our conversation. It feels too good. I haven’t just sat and talked in weeks without feeling a sense of foreboding following me. This feels like a relief, just sitting here talking to Archer without a care in the world.
We pause our talk when the food he ordered comes, he sent me my favorite Thai food, then we start watchingThe Mandaloriantogether, pressing play at the same time.
We chat all night, until I’m too tired to speak any longer, then he stays on the phone with me until I fall asleep.
And it’s one of the best nights of my life.
Chapter Fifty
“Having your boss come and inspect your work is like having your mom come see if you cleaned your room when you’re thirteen, you never know if you’ll get a slap to the head or a kiss on the cheek.” – Derek
ARCHER
A sense of anxious excitement fills me as I wait for the inspector to finish his inspection. It’s the final one, the one that tells us this project is officially done and we can turn the house over to the owners and move on.
