Page 137 of Whisper Sweet Nothings
“Because I’d like to have a long life with my future wife, and we plan on having children, who I don’t want to fuck up with my cold jaded heart. So I’m dealing with my shit.” He sighed.Bridger’s mother had lost her life giving birth to him, and his biological father soon went off the rails due to grief, so Bridger was raised by his aunt and uncle, who were also my aunt and uncle. He’d dealt with some serious trauma, and I’d been proud as hell of him for dealing with it head on after he’d fallen in love with Emilia. “And you need to deal with yours.”
I nodded. He wasn’t wrong. Fear was probably at the root of everything I was feeling right now.
“I’m happy for her, and I’m proud of her.” I blew out a breath, because it was the truth.
“I know you are, Archie. But she’s noticing it, too. She called Emilia this morning because she’s worried about you.”
“Fuck. That’s the last thing I wanted. I’m trying not to put pressure on her. Not to tell her that I’m fucking lost without her. I don’t want to hold her back, so I’m just trying to support her. She’s got all these opportunities happening, and they just might take her in a different direction. And I will not be the man who stands in her way. I’m not that guy.” I stood and moved through the kitchen, then grabbed a glass and filled it with water to keep myself busy.
“There’s a big difference between being supportive and shutting down. You’re shutting down. You’re letting fear take over, and you need to figure out why you’re doing that, or it won’t be her career that takes her away, it’ll be you who pushes her away. You can’t just shut down when things are difficult.”
I didn’t respond. He’d pissed me off, but I knew he wasn’t wrong.
“Okay.”
“Yeah?” he asked, then stood up and tossed his beer bottle in the recycling bin.
“Yep. I’ll work on it.”
“You’ll do more than work on it. You’ve got a meeting with Debbie, my therapist, tomorrow morning at eight a.m. Go straight there after you drop the little monster off at school.”
“I’ve got a meeting tomorrow morning,” I grumped as I followed him to the front door.
“Yes, you do. With Debbie. Everyone else can wait.” He pulled the door open and turned around to face me. “Will you just trust me on this?”
“Well, seeing as I’m a fucked-up motherfucker, I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” I said, my voice lighter now.
“Takes one to know one, buddy. Call me tomorrow after your meeting.” He held up a hand. “And start responding in the group chat, or you’re going to be getting more visits from other Chadwicks.”
“Got it.” I rolled my eyes as I watched him walk to the end of the driveway and turn toward his house. He lived close, and it was a nice night outside.
I exhaled and thought about calling Winnie, but I decided to wait.
I needed to figure my shit out before I talked to her.
And I was ready to make that happen.
I’d come three times this week to see Bridger’s therapist, Debbie, who was apparently my therapist now, because my asshole cousin had scheduled me for three sessions.
“Does that make sense to you, Archer?” Debbie asked.
“Sure. I mean, I guess I just didn’t realize that me being okay with what happened with Scarlet could still mess me up in other relationships. I respect that she knew what she wanted, and shewas honest from the beginning. Or at least once she realized she was pregnant.”
“Yes, and you’ve told me that you don’t fault her for her decision to give up her rights as a mother,” she said. “You’ve made that more than clear, but that doesn’t mean it still didn’t feel like a betrayal to you emotionally. You were in love with her. You can understand someone’s reasons for leaving, and still be hurt by them.”
I blew out a breath. “And you think that me not wanting a relationship for such a long time was because of fear.”
“I think you were protecting yourself, yes. And then you met Winnie, who was a big red flag to you, from what you’ve shared.” She chuckled.
“I hired her to be my nanny, not my girlfriend.” I snorted. “But yes, she wasn’t looking for anything, either, since she’d gone through a tough divorce, not to mention being a decade younger than me.”
“Nine years younger now, right?” She had a playful grin on her face, because I’d shared the inside joke with her.
I’d felt lighter this week than I had in a very long time, actually.
There’d been clarity where I hadn’t expected it.
Where I hadn’t even realized that I needed it.
