I'm not asking you to wait for me–I'd never be that selfish. But please don't hate me. I never, ever want to hurt you, but I'm no good to you. I'm no good to anyone right now, and I need to learn if maybe I can be.

Please understand. Please know that I love you. Please forgive me.

Archer

My hands were shaking like leaves now and tears were coursing down my cheeks. I let out a sob and dropped the letter, bringing my hand to my mouth.

Sitting under the letter was a set of keys, his phone, and a receipt for dog boarding for an open-ended amount of time. I let out another sob and fell down on the couch–the same couch where Archer had rocked me on his lap after saving me from his uncle's trap, the same couch where he had kissed me for the very first time. I sobbed into the pillow, wanting him back, wanting to hear his footsteps coming through the door behind me so desperately, I felt the longing in every cell of my body. But the house remained silent around me, broken only by the sounds of my choking sobs.

Bree

The days dragged by. My heart felt like it had cracked open and lay heavy in my chest, and the tears constantly threatened. I missed him so badly that most days I felt like I was underwater–looking at the world around me and wondering why I couldn't connect, why everyone and everything was cloudy and distant, inaccessible.

I worried too–what was he doing? Where was he sleeping? How was he communicating with those he needed to communicate with? Was he scared? I tried to turn that off as it was one of the reasons he'd left. He felt like less of a man because he depended on me for so much in the outside world. He hadn't said that exactly, but I knew it was true. He didn't want to feel like I was his mother, but rather that he was my equal, my protector, the one I depended on sometimes.

I understood. It still broke my heart that leaving me was his solution to that problem. Would he come back? When? And when and if he did, would he still love me?

I didn't know. But I'd wait. I'd wait forever if I had to. I had told him I'd never leave him and I wouldn't. I'd be here when he got back.

I worked, I visited Anne who was recovering quickly, I walked along the lake, I kept Archer's house clean and dusted, and I missed him. My days inched along, one rolling blankly into the next.

The town had gossiped fervently for a while and from what I had caught wind of, once it was revealed, no one was too surprised that Archer was Connor's son too. People speculated about whether Archer would come back and demand to take what was rightfully his, or whether he would come back at all. But I didn't care about any of that. I just wanted him.

Surprisingly, after the day of the parade, there had been radio silence from Victoria Hale. I thought distantly that maybe that should be worrisome–she didn't seem like the type of woman to lie down quietly and accept losing–but I was hurting too badly to do anything active about it. Perhaps she just believed that Archer was no threat to her. And maybe he wasn't. My heart ached.

Travis tried to talk to me several times after the day of the parade, but I was short with him and, thankfully, he didn't push it. I didn't hate him, but he had missed so many opportunities to be a better person when it came to Archer. Instead he'd chosen to belittle someone who was already struggling in so many ways. I'd never have any respect for him. He was Archer's brother in name only.

Fall turned to winter. The vibrantly colored leaves withered and fell off the trees, the temperature dropped dramatically, and the lake froze over.

One day in late November, several weeks after Archer had left, Maggie came up to me where I was restocking behind the counter and put her hand on my shoulder. "You planning on going home for Thanksgiving, Bree honey?"

I stood up and shook my head. "No. I'm staying here."

Maggie looked at me sadly. "Honey, if he comes back while you're gone, I'll call you."

I shook my head more vehemently. "No, I need to be here if he comes back."

"Okay, honey, okay," she'd said. "Well, then you're coming to our house for Thanksgiving. Our daughter and her family will be in town. And Anne and her sister are coming over too. We'll have a real nice time."

I smiled at Maggie. "Okay, Maggie. Thank you."

"Good," she'd smiled, but somehow she still looked sad.

Norm sat down with me at the break table later that day when we were closing up and all the customers had gone, a piece of my pumpkin pie in front of him and took a big bite. "You make the best pumpkin pie I've ever had," he said, and I started crying right there at the break table because I knew that that was Norm's way of telling me he loved me.

"I love you, too!" I sobbed out and Norm stood up, scowling. "Aw geez. Maggie!" he called, "Bree needs you."

Perhaps I was slightly over-emotional.

November rolled into December and Pelion got its first light snowfall. It blanketed everything, casting a magical feel to the town, making it feel even more old-fashioned, like one of those Thomas Kinkade paintings.

December second was Archer's birthday. I took that day off and spent it in front of the fire at his house, reading Ethan Frome. It wasn't the best choice–he was right, it was the most depressing book ever written. But it was his day, and I wanted to feel close to him. "Happy Birthday, Archer," I whispered that night, making my own wish. Come back to me.

One cold Saturday, a week or so later, I sat cuddled up on my couch with Phoebe, a blanket, and a book, when I heard a soft knock on my door. My heart jumped in my chest and I got up quickly and peeked out the window, the flash of a boy standing soaked from the rain racing through my mind.

Melanie was standing on my porch wearing a big, down jacket and a hot pink scarf and hat. My heart sank. I loved Melanie, but for a brief second there, I had allowed myself to hope that it was Archer coming back to me. I went to let her in.

"Hi." Melanie smiled.

"Get in here," I said, shivering in the blast of icy cold that came in through the open door.

Melanie stepped inside and closed the door behind her. "I'm here to pick you up for the Pelion Christmas tree lighting. Go on. Get dressed," she bossed.

I let out a sigh. "Melanie…"

She shook her head. "Uh uh. I'm not taking no for an answer. I refuse to let you become the cat lady of Pelion."

I laughed despite myself. "The cat lady of Pelion?"

"Hmm hmm." A look of sadness swept her pretty features. "He's been gone for over two months now, Bree. And I know you miss him–I do. But I'm not going to let you sit in this cottage and pine for him around the clock. It isn't healthy." Her voice gentled even more, "He chose to go away, honey. And I know he had his reasons. But you still have a life. You still have friends. You get to miss him–but please don't stop living."

A tear ran silently down my cheek and I swiped at it and sniffled. I nodded my head as another tear ran down my other cheek. Melanie took me in her arms and hugged me. After a minute she stepped back. "It's cold. You'll need to bundle up. Wear something without cat hair on it."

I laughed out a small laugh and wiped the last tear off my cheek. "Okay," I whispered, and went to get dressed.

As we drove downtown, Christmas lights twinkled everywhere. For the first time since he'd left, I felt something close to serenity as I looked around at the small town that I'd grown to love so much, full of so many people who were part of my heart now.