He looked at me with those same soft, hopeful, too-good-for-this-world puppy eyes.
“I thought you’d never ask,” I said, breathless.
Then he pulled me in, and we kissed—long, heated, messy. The kind of kiss that left ones legs shaky and their heart pounding like the bass line.
The crowd disappeared. The music faded. For a minute, it felt like the universe had emptied itself just for us.
Back then, I believed in that magic. I believed in him. I thought, Hell yes. This boy is mine. This man is my future.
Now, looking into those same eyes, all I could smell was Betty’s perfume—cheap and sticky-sweet. The kind that clung to skin and wouldn’t wash off. The kind that made ones stomach turn.
Archie winked, inching closer. “Why waste a night just staring at me when there’s so much more we could be doing… like…”
He didn’t get to finish. Because his phone rang—sharp and jarring—and just like that, the illusion shattered.
He hit speaker, lips still hovering near mine.
“Boss, Miss Betty says she’s not feeling well,” came the voice of one of his men.
The name alone flipped a switch in him.
Archie jerked upright, voice sharp. “Call the doctor. Now. I’m coming over.”
By the time he changed clothes, he was halfway to the door before even glancing my way.
“Babe… Sorry. I have to check on Betty. No one’s there with her.” He paused, looking torn. “I’ll be back soon, I promise. You’re the best.”
The best? Yes. For enduring eight months of silence, of broken promises, of sleepovers with his aunt Betty—who, let’s be honest, was just another Valez cover for scandal.
Yes. I was the best.
The fact that I stayed this long? That was my best mercy. A final chance for him to right the wrongs.
He didn’t take it.
I stood up, walked to him, and handed over the one thing he almost left behind.
“Your phone,” I said quietly. “You forgot it.”
