He knows he can’t come to you.
My father would see it as a badge of honour that Archie could tell him all his dirty little secrets. It suits his brand. I realise that I didn’t even ask if Archie was coming back, if any of that had been discussed. I doubt it. My father surely would have mentioned that.
But now all Archie’s sins against the club are forgiven because he and my father have found common ground. I was the bad guy, of course.
At the last minute I detour to the gym, needing to take out my frustration on a treadmill and a punching bag. I do weights until my arms burn, the gym quiet on a Saturday night. By the time I leave, enough dopamine has flooded my system that I feel halfways human again. The gym may be quiet, but the streets arebusy with Saturday night crowds, all dressed up and heading out to clubs and bars despite the drizzle that’s set in.
I’m relieved to be back in my apartment, alone and with space to think and breathe.
But I have to do something, and I still don’t know how to do it.
I pick up the phone and bring up Mia’s number. Do I send her a text? Do I call her? What do I even say? I wanted to protect her from Archie’s awful words, but now I don’t know how to shield her from them. What the fuck do I say to her?
Finally I type out a text, and feel like an arsehole with every word.
Hiya, I hope you’re doing alright. My dad got a phone call from Archie this morning, I don’t know exactly what was said, but it’s all just messy and stupid. I don’t know where he is or when he’s coming back.
I stare at the blinking cursor, then slowly delete the words. What am I even saying? What am I doing?
I dial her number and put the phone to my ear. It rings twice, then Mia answers.
“Yeah?”
“Uh, hi. Hi.” I walk a few paces around the kitchen and clear my throat. “Are you alright?”
“I really need people to stop asking me that,” she says flatly. “It’s getting really bloody boring.”
“Sorry, love. I, uh, look. There’s no easy way to say this, but Archie’s called my dad.”
There’s a short, sharp intake of breath. “Right?”
“Yeah, I don’t know how it all played out, but essentially, we know he’s alive, and he’s safe.”
“He just called to say he’s alive and safe?” Mia asks, her voice thick with cynicism. “I don’t fucking care.”
“I know, love, I’m sorry. I…” I trail off, rubbing the back of my neck.
“Dom, what is going on?” Mia asks with a sigh. “You don’t need to be all coy about this.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’m already bloody hurt!” She cries, and the tone of her voice threatens to cut me in two. “I - I can’t fucking cope with the back and forth. I’m fine and trying to move past it all and then Archie pulls me right back in.”
“You don’t need to be moving past anything right now, Mia, it just happened. Give yourself some grace.”
“Stop trying to protect me and just tell me what he said.”
I lean on the kitchen counter, hanging my head. “He admitted to having an affair.” There’s silence on the line. “Mia?”
“I heard you. What else?”
I can’t tell her. I just can’t do it. I can’t tell her that I know one of her most painful secrets, something I shouldn’t know and my father certainly shouldn’t know, but Archie used against her all the same.
“Did you and Archie ever discuss him talking about your past publicly?” I don’t know why this bloody question bubbles up in my brain and out of my stupid mouth, but it does.
“What?” Mia asks, clearly confused. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“The way he always talked about you being a foster kid, positioning himself as the hero. Only, you never talked about it yourself. Did he have your permission to do that?”
