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“Are you really going to blame yourself for this? That’s ludicrous.”

“Yeah, well, I should have known better. I clearly did not learn from my previous mistakes.”

The light finally turned green. He pressed hard on the gas, jerking the truck forward.

Tea’s face was pinched into a scowl. “What does that mean?”

He shook his head.

“No, absolutely not.” Tea twisted her body so she was facing him. “Archer, what’s going on with you? Tell me right now.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it is the single most horrific thing I’ve done in my entire life.”

She sucked in a breath.

“If I tell you, I don’t think you’ll be able to look at me the same way ever again.”

“I highly doubt that,” she murmured.

The sound of her soft confidence in him left a pang in his heart.

They pulled up to another red light. He growled.

“Archer.”

He exhaled and tilted his head back, then rolled it to look at her. “Remember when you said that you think I have anxiety about COVID?”

She nodded.

He rubbed his neck. Was he really going to tell her about this?

She placed a hand down on the console between them. She didn’t reach for him all the way, like there was an invisible barrier between them. But the movement was clear enough. I’m here for you.

The light above them turned green, and still he didn’t move. They were in the middle of the woods, and there wasn’t a car in sight. “It’s not anxiety about getting it, it’s about spreading it to others. Back in March—” The word caught in his throat. He cleared it, ignoring the stinging in his eyes. “I was on the schedule to work at Hermes Lounge one night, and I wasn’t feeling too great, but I went to work anyway.”

Her eyes widened.

“I kept mixing drinks and handing them off to people, thinking it was a cold coming on or something. Days later, I woke up with chills and a fever. That was the day everything shut down in Minneapolis. I couldn’t get a test or anything because hospitals and clinics were so backed up. But I knew. I had every symptom in the book.”

The light turned yellow, then back to red. “I called my boss to tell him I had it, and he came back to me days later with some n-news.” Tears welled in his eyes. He swiped them away with the back of his hand. “Apparently three guests at the bar that night ended up in the hospital. Two of them did not make it.”

“Archer,” she whispered.

“I shouldn’t have gone in for my shift. If I had stayed home, they would probably be alive, and—” He couldn’t continue. His chest heaved as he let out a sob.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Tea stretched her hand.

He wanted to grab it—desperately—but how could he? How could he risk it? How could she even look at him?

“Arch, it is not your fault. They could have picked it up from someone or someplace else. It was spreading like crazy in the beginning, and we still don’t know much about how this thing spreads.”

He snatched an old napkin in his glove compartment and wiped his eyes. “Tea, I was making them drinks. Without a mask on.”

“And they were probably talking in very close proximity to each other, and to others earlier in the day—”