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“I’m good,” I lie.

We barely know each other. I don’t think Archer wants to know how I’m really feeling.

“It’s okay if you’re not,” he says.

His gentle expression and concerned brow is enough to undo me. Tears prick the corners of my eyes, but I quickly blink them away and look at the movie. If I’m hoping for a distraction from my current circumstances, I’m obviously looking in the wrong place.

“Sorry,” I whisper, trying to hold it together. “I’ve done nothing but work for two weeks straight and...I guess I’m just tired.”

“Can I take you home?”

My chest tightens at the thought of being isolated. “I don’t wanna be alone, if that’s okay?”

“Of course. We can sit here in silence like I promised, or we can talk. Whatever you need. I don’t want to make anything worse for you.”

I let out an almost indiscernible scoff. “You are making it worse.”

He winces with regret, his lips parting. “I’m sorry. How...”

“You’re being too nice,” I finish.

His eyes narrow, then his shoulders relax. “I’ve never been told that before.”

“Well keep it up, and you might open the floodgates.”

He laces his fingers together and rests them between his legs. “That’s okay, too.”

I draw a calming breath. All his goodness is just making me realize all the more how much I want to be with him...and how much of a nightmare it would be with Dad.

But suppressing my emotions has to be better than the symphony of sentiments now flooding my soul.

My attention strays again to the movie. I watch the dad do everything in his power to have it just be him and his daughter forever, and my emotions swell like an approaching tide. I didn’t know my mom. I wish I did. I wish she was alive right now because things would be easier, wouldn’t they?

A tear slips down my cheek, and I try to hide it with a gentle flick of my finger, but another falls, then another. My spirit is heavy, pulling my shoulders low with weighty emotions, and yet, I feel as if any moment, all these feelings floating erratically, uncontrollably inside me will rip me into the dark air, and I’ll lose complete control.

Just before all hope fades, Archer shifts beside me, and his arm moves around my shoulder to hold me close.

“This is nothing more than a business embrace,” he says softly.

I give a gentle laugh, wiping away another tear. I don’t protest his arm as my cries finally release, because moment by moment, that spiraling feeling from before slips into the atmosphere without me, leaving me grounded instead of weighed down.

All the while, Archer holds me closer until the lights from the car click off, plunging us into total darkness, and I welcome the shelter it gives me.

Archer has no idea why I’m crying, and yet, he’s here for me with his silent strength. I couldn’t be more grateful.

I release a shuddering breath, and he hugs me tighter until the last of my cries escape. I’m sapped of all energy, but instead of exhaustion, peace replaces my sorrow. I allow my head to fall into the crook of his shoulder, then his head rests on mine. The soft touch, the subtle scratch of his beard, the canvas scent of his Carhart jacket—all of it waves the flag of a real man. Reliable, strong, capable of gentleness.

I close my eyes, the remaining moisture wetting my eyelashes. I’m sure my makeup is an utter mess, but I’m finding it hard to care about anything right now.

We remain together as the night wears on, Archer’s proximity soothing away the last of my concerns. But we don’t move.

I’ve never been held by someone like this. With Dad, it’s different. And my other boyfriends were all too distracted by phones or sports when I needed them. But Archer...I want to keep this for as long as I can, bottle it up to use on a rainy day.

Still, I feel compelled to explain my seemingly erratic emotions so he doesn’t think I can’t control myself.

“Is this considered a business cuddle?” I ask, trying to break the ice.

I feel his lips stretch against the top of my head. “We can call it whatever you’d like.”