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I stare at Dad expectantly, and he seems to take his cue. “Looks like you’ve done up the place quite a bit.”

“Needed to be done.”

“Well, good job. On the updates and on the event. Looks like a lot of people enjoyed themselves.” Then he motions to the fires. “I’d make sure those are up to code, though.”

“They are.”

Dad looks doubtful but remains silent.

Archer’s kept a respectful distance from me, no doubt for Dad’s sake, but I’m not doing that anymore. I hold the top of my popcorn bag in the same hand as my cider, then move forward with my free fingers to hold Archer’s hand.

His eyes are soft and warm and gracious. Dad’s harden. If he can’t even handle me holding hands with Archer, how is he going to handle me spending the rest of my life with him?

“Well, I think we’re about ready to head on out,” Dad says, taking a step back.

“I’m gonna stick around,” I say, my stomach knotting as I deliberately defy him.

I’m not afraid of Dad, but this feels significant—my first stand as I leave my past life and seize the one I now want.

“Are you sure?” Dad asks.

“Yeah.”

My vision blurs for a brief second, and I find it hard to focus on anything in the darkness. The first thing I’m going to do when Dad leaves is swallow this popcorn whole. My body needs something.

“I’ll be sure to get her home safe, sir,” Archer says, his hand secure around mine.

Dad still doesn’t move. “Can I talk with you for a minute alone, Juliet? I’ve got some things I need to get off my chest.”

I hesitate. He’s had plenty of time this week to get things off his chest. Now, it’s my time to be with Archer.

“If you wanna talk, you can talk to me and Archer,” I say calmly.

I can see his frustration, but the darkness is shifting too black to concentrate on anything. I thought Archer had strings of lights around here, but I can’t seem to see them much anymore.

“This should really be said alone,” Dad says.

“I can leave,” Archer whispers down at me, but I keep hold of his hand.

“No.” My chest is tense and my heart is tight as I stand up for myself again. “Dad, this is the way it’s gonna be. We may as well start now.”

Dad looks conflicted, his eyes flicking from Archer to me. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Because I...”

He keeps speaking, and while I hear his words, they’re not registering in the thick fog blanketing my mind.

Archer must feel my exhaustion at having to defend my actions again. He shifts toward me subtly so his arm is in front of mine, his body giving me strength as I lean against him.

“She’s a grown woman, sir,” Archer says, his deep voice filling my ears as the chatter, horses’ hooves, and laughter fade around me. “She can make her own decisions.”

“You think I don’t know my daughter?” Dad asks, his voice tight.

I want to tell him to calm down, but I’m struggling to remember where I am. There are horses nearby. I can smell them. But we don’t have horses at home.

“Archer,” I say weakly, my hand moving to wrap around his arm.