Page 36 of Bound By Threads
My heart stops, and I blink. Certain, my mind is playing tricks because Archer isn’t supposed to be home until this weekend, and yet here he is. Standing tall in his Marine uniform, his posture straight. His brown hair is shorter than I remember, military precision, but I can’t wait for him to grow it out just like he always does when he’s home, and it gets that perfectly messy look.
Zara nudges me, a smile on her face as her eyes ping between us both. Oscar stands to the side, an encouraging soft smile on his face as he nods his head towards his best friend.“Go.”He signs.
I feel like I’m suffocating—like the air has been sucked out of my lungs. Every nerve in my body screams for me to move, but my feet refuse to obey.
“What are you waiting for?” Zara whispers to me.
I can’t answer… I can’t move. My body is stuck in place, just like he seems to be, and my thoughts are a chaotic mess of memories and emotions.
What will him being home mean for my feelings?
I could ignore them when he was gone, but now he’s stood in front of me, eyes locked onto mine with an intensity too much to ignore.
Archer shifts. He doesn’t smile or wave; it’s just a subtle shift of his feet as if he’s as desperate to reach out for me as I am for him.
Something inside me finally snaps. My feet move before I can think about it anymore because this is Archer. My Archer. The man who saved me and gave me something I had never dreamt of having.
A future.
I take one step,then another, the distance between us shrinking with every breath I take until I’m breaking out into a sprint, flinging myself into his arms, my heart pounding in my chest, and my eyes unable to look away from his.
He’s somehow even more beautiful than I remember, but there’s a weight in his brown eyes that wasn’t there before.
Archer’s grip is punishing as he holds me, and I bury my head into the crook of his neck, savoring the minty smell of his shower gel.
“I missed you,” I whisper, the words slipping out like a breath.
I haven’t spoken in so long, not since that night, but I wanted the first words I’d say in four years to be for him. I’ve been working on it with my therapist since Archer last left, wanting to give him the perfect final homecoming gift. The work I’ve been doing has prepared me for this moment, and for the first time since my voice was stolen from me, in his arms, it feels like I can finally exhale.
Archer’s breath stalls, his hands tightening around my thighs as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go. “I missed you, too,” he says, a tremor in his voice, but the emotion in it is so raw it sends a shiver down my spine. He pulls back slightly, but only enough to look at me, his gaze searching my face. The darkness in his eyes is still there, but it’s tempered by something I can’t place. “You spoke.”
“I did. I wanted the first words I said to be for you. You saved me, Arch. I wouldn’t have found my voice again if it wasn’t for you,” I say, my voice choked with emotion as I stare into his eyes for the first time in months.
My voice is rough from disuse, but I’ve been building towards this since he last left. An hour spent in the bathroom, staring at my reflection as I pushed the words out through breathless pants as I staved off looming panic attacks.
I did this for him, but most of all for myself.
Four years is a long time to be voiceless.
“Lottie…” Archer’s voice breaks.
A soft cough from behind us pulls us out of our bubble. I glance over and see Oscar standing there, leaning against the railing, his arms crossed. He’s watching us intensely, a faint smile on his lips.
“Are you two done staring lovingly into each other’s eyes?”he signs, rolling his eyes.
“Never,” Archer responds, lowering me to the ground. His hands linger on my waist before he finally pulls away.
I roll my eyes back at him, ignoring the way my cheeks heat at his words.“You weren’t supposed to be home until the weekend.”I sign, unable to form the words now I’m out of our little bubble.
I’ll continue to work towards gaining my voice again, but for now, I’m happy with the signing.
Oscar’s eyes flick to Archer, then back to me. He tilts his head to the side, silently asking if he should give us a moment.
I nod, my throat tight. There’s something in the way Oscar looks at me, just like the way Archer looks at me sometimes, that makes my heart flutter, but I’ve never let myself think about it. Not when it feels like I don’t deserve this life that seems to have been handed to me.
Oscar gives me a small, understanding smile, then steps back, flapping his hands at the crowd to leave.
As soon aseveryone is gone and we’re finally alone, Archer gives me his full attention, his lips curling into a small, almost sad smile. “You spoke. Are you okay?” he asks me.
