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“Stitches?”
“Ugly,” I laugh. “I never once said I was a skilled plastic surgeon who would make neat lines. I just closed him up the best I could and hoped his insides would stay inside.”
“Very educated assessment,” Aubree drawls. “Is he eating? Sleeping? Drinking water?”
“Yes, Doc.” Pushing up to stand tall, I tuck my supplies under my arm and move back into the hall. “All those things. He’s not unwell. He’s merely injured and needs to take the time to heal.”
Instead of walking toward the living room, I turn right and head into Archer’s bedroom. “How are you, Aubree? I’m not with you day-to-day right now, so I know you’re taking advantage of the fact I can’t call you out on your shit. But I wanna know how you’re doing after…” I pause. “You know,everything. If you crack and need time off because you didn’t deal with all this in a healthy way, then I don’t much want to be at work either.”
“Because you love me?”
I sit on the end of the bed and roll my eyes. “Seems that way.”
“Because I’m your best friend?”
“Aubree—”
“Bestestbest friend in the whole wide world?” she pushes. “Say it, Mayet. Admit it.”
“Fine.” I lie back on top of the unmade sheets and stare up at the ceiling. “It would appear you’re my best friend. The bestest of all friends in the whole wide world. Now tell me how you’re dealing with this mess.”
“I’m angry.” She says the words, not in anger, but with a sad exhalation. “I’m exhausted. And I’m a little lost, because Tim isn’t who I thought he was. I’m scared, because I still have feelings for him. I’vealwayshad feelings for him, and now,finally, he wants to talk.”
“He does?”
“Ugh.” She groans in the back of her throat. “Yes. A few weeks ago, it was like he was holding his palm to my forehead, forbidding me from stepping closer. Now, he leaves a message on my phone every single day.”
“Every day?”
“Everyday!” she exclaims. “He’s not blowing up my phone or anything. It’s just one voicemail. Same time each morning. Super respectful. He says the same every day: he hopes I’m doing okay, he’s sorry he lied, and he’s available to talk any time I want to. He’ll tell me anything I wanna know. No more secrets.”
“I mean…” I study the ugly water stain on Arch’s bedroom ceiling. “That’s really sweet. He’s reaching out, Aubs, and he’s not being cruel or bossy about it. He’s just making sure you know he’s there. He’s ready to catch you if you need somewhere soft to land.”
“Which is why I’m scared,” she murmurs. “Because my mad and my sad and my freakout aren’t enough to kill the potential feelings I have for him. If I’m not careful, he’ll pull me into his web and make me forget every bad thing that happened.”
“And you don’t want to forget,” I conclude. “You don’t wanna let him off that easily.”
“I don’t want to be tricked into forgetting,” she amends. “I want to feel all of this. Process it. Understand it. I don’t want to be the only idiot in the room who has no clue what she’s surrounded with.”
“Well—”
“He says he kept stuff from me toprotectme,” she spits out, disgusted and angry. “I don’t feel protected, Minka. I feel stupid.”
“Which is reasonable,” I cut in. “Despite his intentions, he kept a lot of huge stuff from you. That was unfair.”
“When did Archer tell you?”
In all the time since that fateful day at the bay, when guns went off and cops were killed, Aubree has not once asked me about my part in all this. She’s mad at Tim for keeping secrets; she’s mad at herself for being the last to know the Malones’ truths. But if we drill down to the core of all that has happened, the fact is, I kept those same secrets.
I knew too. And I didn’t say anything.
“Minka?” she presses when I remain silent. “You weren’t surprised like I was, which means you knew. When did Archer tell you?”
“Early,” I admit on a quiet whisper. “Very early in our relationship.”
“He trusted you to know,” she sighs. “He trusted you with that, while Tim kept me in the dark and made me look stupid.”
“He nevermeantfor you to feel stupid.” Pushing up to sit, I snag my supplies and climb to my feet. Archer needs food and rest, which means I need to get off this bed and back to work. “Tim’s a guy,” I tell her. “And guys often screw up, even when they think they’re doing the right thing. But I promise, he meant only to protect you.”
