Agreements With Mr Rich Boy | ✓

47 | The Call

THERE WAS A SECOND knock at my door, only this was quite a bit later than the first.

I'd packed up most things, not that I had much to begin with. Why it had taken so long, I didn't know. Was I stalling?

I shook my head of the thought. All I needed, right now, was to be as far away from the chalet, from the Redwoods, from Archer as possible.

Remembering someone was at my door, I rushed to it so fast I forgot that it could be the one person, or one of the four people, I so wanted to avoid. So, when Archer stood— still in his suit that, even now, I had to admit he looked incredibly handsome in— I had to steady myself against the door from the round of emotions that suddenly swept through me. I regained myself quickly, though.

I went to close the door, but his expertly polished shoe got in the way. Sighing, I looked up.

"Yes?" I questioned, harsher than I had intended but no more harsh than he deserved.

He attempted to step into the room.

Again, I pushed the door forward, only this time not to close it fully. I needed distance between us but I knew if I just shut the door now, it would only make things harder. And by the determined look in his eye, I knew he wasn't going to leave without saying whatever he'd been meaning to say.

"Jolie," his voice was soft, laced with sympathy and... remorse? Who knew Archer Redwood could feel something for someone other than himself, let alone remorse? "Please— are you leaving?" His eyes had flicked behind me, the space over my head showing him my packed bag.

I stood a little straighter. "Yes," and after a pause, "Not that it has anything to do with you."

His dark eyebrows furrowed, eyes forcing mine to remain on his. How strange that now he could look me in the face. "Don't be like that."

"I'll be however I wa—" I breathed, reigning in my anger. He wasn't worth it. "If that's all you came to say, I think we're done here." The door felt heavier than I expected as I tried to close it once more. I looked to see his hand holding it.

"Let me apologise." It wasn't a question.

I sighed, but nodded all the same. He gestured inside and, not being arsed to argue, I stepped back to provide a gap big enough for him to walk through.

He looked unsure as he walked further into the room, like it was a completely new surrounding, despite it being his room, technically.

"Well?" I was growing impatient, feeling my resolve waver as I looked at his familiar form. I was angry, yes, but I couldn't just switch off how I felt about him. And I hated myself for it.

"Your dad was cruel and vindictive," he began, like it was new information. "I wouldn't have done it if he hadn't been."

I raised my hand. I was tired enough as it was with bullshit, to be dosed with it from him, too. "Enough with the excuses," I said, gritting my teeth to keep my eyes on his, to keep him from seeing how close I was to falling apart. "You can't blame anyone else but yourself for your actions, Archer."

"He—"

"Did he force you to make that deal with me?" I asked, stepping closer. "Did he force you to pretend to care for me?" Again, I stepped closer, prodding his chest, ignoring the throbbing of my finger as I repeatedly hit the hard panes there. "No, that was all your doing, everything that you've done with me has been on your own account. Don't be such a coward to blame someone else. Take some accountability for once in your life."