My Buddy Archie [3]

Epilogue..

I updated! It's a Christmas miracle!

The epliogue of a three part story! I never thought I'd make it here lol, there almost wasn't a third part, but here I am at the end of it. Ngl i cried writing this, just because I can't believe it's over. This story has been so rough to write but I'm thankful for the people who've stuck with it. Thank you sosososo much for reading. I really can't say it enough. Thank you :)

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The front door opened and closed. The twins giggled with excitement as they listened to Niall's footsteps coming towards the living room. I laughingly shh-ed them by putting a finger to my lips. Their little hands went up over their mouths, hiding missing teeth and concealing another rush of giggles. We heard his feet stop a few feet from the couch and we held our breath.

"Hmm..." he hummed. "Something here looks...different." I'm sure he was exaggerating his footsteps as he moved around the room. "Or maybe some people are missing...Archie? Where's Mum and the twins?"

"I have no idea," Archie feigned uncertainty. "They were sitting on the couch a moment ago."

Aria's little 'tee-hee' laugh bubbled out of her. Zach put his finger to my lips, giving her a pointed look.

"What was that?" Niall asked.

"Sounded like a mouse."

My own heart was fluttering in my chest. Archie was very good at playing along with our little hiding games. He was very good at playing with the twins, period. Even when he has friends over, or when he hit his teens, he never brushed them away. They ran to him almost as eagerly as they ran to me and Niall.

"Did it come from behind the TV?"

"I don't know, let's check."

I watched through the cracks in the couch cushion as he and Niall actually went over to look behind the TV. "They don't know we're here," Zach whispered not-so-quietly to me. I couldn't help but laugh. This is way too fun.

"Maybe we should check the couch," Niall suggested as he made his way over. He stood in front with his hands on his hips. His clothes were all wrinkle free and clean, the sleeves rolled up over his elbow, and his pants fitting his legs perfectly. As it always does.

He'd taken Edgar's job three years ago, only a few weeks after the funeral. I remember Penny calling him, sobbing into the phone about her father being found dead in his office that night. Niall kept it together on the phone, paid his condolences. Once he hang up, he had the worst panic attack I've ever seen. He passed out from hyperventilating. I'd called an ambulance and told the kids he was just sick.

To this day, he still won't admit he was depressed the following week, but I know he was. The guilt of what he let happen was just too heavy on his shoulders for him not to be depressed. After that week though, I dragged him to therapy. I've never sat in on one of his sessions, but on the third week he started showing progress. He started getting dressed again. Started talking to the kids. Started taking half days at work. Things started going back to normal when he got Edgar's job but I could always see a bit of hesitation in him.

He always asked me if I saw him different. He believe in his heart of hearts that he killed Edgar, and I was on the verge of taking the kids and leaving him. But it was the opposite. The man was dying already. Niall didn't do anything to make it happen quicker, and there was nothing he could've done to prevent it. I told him that so many times. So many times. I don't know if it'll ever get through that head of his, but it's made me a very patient woman.