Don't Let Go

Shielding his eyes with one hand, Steven studied the patchwork of clouds overhead, wondering if they’d make it back before another summer thunderstorm rolled in. The mottled sunlight flashed off a glimmer of gold in his peripheral vision. “Still can’t believe you went through with that,” he remarked as he and Archer slowed from a run to a leisurely jog.

Breathing heavily in the humid June air, Archer shrugged and wiped sweat from his brow. “A dare is a dare.” He fiddled with the small gold hoop in his right ear as they entered the outskirts of Esther’s neighborhood.

“No, I get that.” Steven followed his best friend across a two-lane road, glancing up when thunder rumbled in the distance. “But, like, what would possess Leon to dare you to get your ear pierced?”

Archer began to walk as the air turned soupy and thick. He heard Steven fall into step beside him, always in sync, and reluctantly shared an admittedly childish venture between him and the paramedic. “After church last week, we overheard his sister and Esther sharing their opinions about men wearing jewelry, like rings, bracelets, and stuff. Hannah asked Esther what she thought about single earrings, and Esther said that if the guy can pull it off, she thinks it’s kinda hot. If not, it’s cringy and seems like he’s trying too hard to be—” Archer made air quotes with his fingers. “—gangster-y or emo.”

Steven snorted and kicked a small rock, sending it skittering down the sidewalk. He understood perfectly. “So Leon looked at you and said, ‘bet you won’t’.”

“Yup.”

“That was enough to convince you to permanently alter your body?” Steven asked, incredulous.

“I’ve got over a thousand dollars of tattoos on my body,” Archer deadpanned. “But, sure, poking a tiny hole in my ear is too much.”

Steven snorted. “You’re letting it heal, so I assume Esther reacted well to your…surprise.”

Grinning, Archer tossed his low ponytail over the opposite shoulder with a flourish. “Of course she did. It’s me.”

Steven shouldered Archer off the sidewalk. “Have you always been this full of yourself?”

Archer laughed, elbowing Steven in the stomach. “No. Just recently.”

They walked on autopilot for several minutes, but when Esther’s house appeared at the end of the cul-de-sac, Steven came to a concerned stop—her seafoam green Mini Cooper and his truck weren’t alone on the street anymore. He glanced at his watch. Diana, his girlfriend and Esther’s best friend, hadn’t texted him, which was even more concerning since she’d been spending time with Esther while he and Archer went for a run.

“I don’t like the look of that SUV,” Archer muttered, angling half a step in front of Steven. “Is that…” He trailed off and squinted. “Steven, I think that’s your dad’s Audi.”

Steven’s eyes widened in recognition. “Huh. You’re right, it is.” What could’ve happened that made Dad come here during a workday? He resumed a faster pace, glancing at Archer, who seemed to share his concerns that something was very wrong. Steven stopped suddenly, causing Archer to bump into him from behind. He couldn’t bring himself to take another step. His dad, Matteo, was escorting two soldiers wearing formal uniforms to the SUV. They took turns shaking hands solemnly.

Archer wanted to throw up, realizing what news had been delivered that day.

“...no…” Steven choked and took off in a full sprint. He tapped into reserves of speed he didn’t know he possessed, blew past his dad, vaulted the porch steps, and crashed through the open doorway.

Chest heaving, Steven froze on the threshold, taking everything in. Diana jumped at his entrance, but Esther didn’t flinch, stuck in a state of shock. Her eyes were unfocused and dry, but she was shaking.

Steven wasn’t sure which sight was more heartbreaking. “Esther?” His broken whisper drew his cousin out of her daze. She blinked slowly, the first tear of many falling onto her cheek at the sight of him.

Esther couldn’t untangle herself from Diana fast enough and stumbled into Steven’s arms with a shattered cry of anguish that would have made marble statues weep. Outside, deep gray clouds churned, their floodgates opening to soak the earth with large raindrops as Heaven shared her grief over the death of her twin brother, who had been the only surviving member of her immediate family.

Archer watched everything from the doorway. That day had started like any other, insignificant and routine, but all it took was one thing coming out of nowhere, and Esther’s whole perfectly structured world came crashing down, and he was left standing there…watching it all fall apart.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Washington, DC.

A few raps sounded at the door, interrupting his frustrated monologue.

“Archer?”

Fumbling with the silky fabric woven through his fingers, Archer almost sighed in relief when Matteo’s voice came from the other side.

“I don’t mean to rush you, but my son—”

“Completely means to!”

Archer snorted a dry laugh, giving up on making the knot of his tie look presentable, and opened the door connecting his hotel room to the main suite, revealing his exasperated best friend. “I never really learned how to do one of these,” he confessed, holding up the infamous strip of charcoal silk.

Without a word, Matteo stepped around Steven and began fixing Archer’s tie.

“How is she?” Archer whispered, realizing how quiet it was in the room beyond Steven’s towering figure.

Matteo exhaled, a rough sound full of pain from losing his nephew, and loosened the knot when Archer tensed at the pressure close to his throat. “Hasn’t said a word all morning.”

Not sure what else I was expecting… Archer scowled at the sunlight streaming through the balcony window as if it were somehow to blame for everything. It wasn’t. Obviously. He knew exactly what was to blame—war and all the sacrifices it entailed.

“Room service just delivered breakfast,” Steven said, stuffing his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t mess up the gel keeping his hair in place.

Archer smiled thinly to thank Matteo, then moved back to the dresser. “Y’alright?” he asked, clipping a small gold hoop through his right ear.

Steven shifted his weight from one foot to the other, watching his dad walk away, each step seeming heavier than the last. “Esther couldn’t stop crying last night…eventually tired herself out and fell asleep, but—” He trailed off with a shuddering sigh. “Mom held her all night. There wasn’t anything Dad or I could do, so we stayed in bed. I felt so freakin’ helpless laying there in the dark, listening to my parents finally let themselves cry once they thought I’d fallen asleep too.”

Tightening his jaw, Archer felt as if he were being slowly crushed from the inside out. He hesitated, then pulled Steven into a hug, which was returned with earnestness. “Esther isn’t the only one who lost a brother, Steven, but I know you’re too stubborn to let her see you like this. Stay in here and take some time for yourself.”

“Y-yeah…alright,” Steven whispered, his voice crackling. He stepped back and let the first tears of many fall. “Thanks, man.”

“S’what I’m here for,” Archer replied with a loose two-finger salute and shut the door behind him. He leaned against it, letting his fists hit the wood with a thud, and squeezed his eyes shut. God, I don’t understand why You let this happen. To be honest, I’m furious…but for now…give me strength to get Esther through today. She’s falling apart, and I’m afraid of what’ll happen if I can’t be what she needs.

Giving himself a mental shake, Archer ventured into the kitchenette of the main suite. Elena was filling a glass at the sink, but didn’t acknowledge his presence. Her gaze was fixed on the running tap, yet she allowed the cup to overflow and spill down her wrist. Archer deftly took the glass from her trembling hands and shut off the faucet.

“Oh, Archer!” Startled and embarrassed, Elena fumbled with a dish towel. “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t hear you come in.” She wiped up the water splashed onto the counter, unable to stay still. “I-I was getting Esther something to drink, but I… What would you like for breakfast?”

With his brow furrowed, Archer listened to Elena rattle off what dishes were left under the silver cloches. He was unused to seeing the refined, patient woman scattered and out of sorts. She was visibly exhausted, so not even her carefully applied makeup could hide it. “Has Esther eaten anything yet?” Archer asked in a quiet voice as he poured a cup of coffee.

“Maybe two bites of French toast and some blueberries,” Elena answered, folding the dishtowel, unfolding it, then folding it again. “You’re the only one who’s been able to get through to her since that day, so she might eat a little more if-if you…”

“I’ll take care of her,” Archer promised. “Why don’t you try to get some rest before we have to leave? Steven told me how last night went.”

Elena breathed out slowly, her shoulders drooping. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” Once Elena was gone, Archer picked a random plate of food, his appetite almost nonexistent from knowing what the day held. At the last second, he grabbed two forks. “Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted softly, sitting on the coffee table. She slowly glanced up from the tissue she was picking apart in her lap. Tears glossed and dimmed her once vibrant irises, and there was a faint quiver to her chapped lips. Her cheeks were flushed from broken blood vessels, yet she was so pale.

With a stiff swallow, Archer set his coffee aside, sliding Esther’s barely eaten plate of French toast out of the way. “D’you want me to reheat that for you?” he asked, using a fork to cut into the single-serving quiche on his plate.

Esther shook her head, breath hitching, and reached for another tissue. “N-not hungry.”

Seeing Esther sit there, so fragile and broken, a shell of who she used to be, Archer almost lost all the composure he had carefully crafted that morning. He stared through the windows overlooking the garden courtyard until he trusted his voice to stay steady. “Here.” He cut off a piece of the quiche using the extra fork and held it out. “Try this. It’s not bad as far as bougie hotel breakfasts go.”

Sitting up a little, Esther scrutinized the crumbling piece of pie crust and egg custard. It smelled so good. Her stomach rumbled. She glanced past the hovering fork at Archer, who decided that was an appropriate time to make an airplane sound effect and ‘pilot’ the food toward her mouth. Surprised, Esther let him feed her, smiling for the first time in days as she chewed.

Feeling like he’d won the lottery, Archer kept sharing his breakfast with Esther in the same manner, not caring if he looked ridiculous. She didn’t laugh, but he could tell she was amused—getting her to eat something was a bonus.

In his peripheral, Archer saw Matteo step onto the balcony to take another phone call. There hadn’t been a moment of peace for the lawyer since the uniformed officers showed up on Esther’s doorstep several days ago. Unsurprisingly, a lot of paperwork was involved with the passing of a decorated Army Captain, even if he had a written will.

“Y-you look handsome,” Esther whispered timidly, returning Archer’s attention to her. He really did. She couldn’t stop staring. His hair was half knotted at the nape of his neck, and his sleeves were rolled past his muscular forearms in preparation for spending most of the day outside in humid eighty-degree weather. A slim-fit black dress shirt and a matching pair of tailored black slacks accentuated his lean figure and broad shoulders. The gold watch Matteo got him for his birthday and his gold earring added a pop color to the monochrome palette.

Archer watched her gaze slowly travel up, then down his body, giving his attire an appreciative scan before she looked away, hiding a smile and blushing. For once, he didn’t tease her for acting shy. She could stare all she wanted if it meant there was a chance she would smile again.

“And you’re lovely as always,” Archer remarked with a soft, fond expression. Her simple black dress was short-sleeved with white lapels and white buttons down the front. A claw clip held most of her hair back, making her pearl drop earrings visible. Mismatched rings were stacked on her fingers, giving her something to fidget with when anxious.

Having put the barest minimum into her appearance, Esther shook her head dismissively. “I keep crying off my mascara,” she sniffed, fanning one hand in front of her face. “Do I have raccoon eyes?”

“A little, yeah.” Archer chuckled when she pouted and used his thumb to remove the gray smudges. “There.” Her eyes began to water again at his touch. He inhaled a shaky breath, clasped her chilled hands between his, and repeated the question he asked every morning, “What do you need from me today, angel?”

Esther swallowed thickly, a bit guilty for how much time and energy Archer continuously sacrificed for her. All she did was take, take, take, giving nothing in return. She couldn’t. Her heart had been utterly crushed. She feared not even God could put it back together this time. “Later…w-when we get to Arlington…don’t let go,” Esther whimpered, squeezing Archer’s fingers until her knuckles blanched. “Please don’t let go.”

Determined to carry every shard of her broken heart, even if he cut himself in the process, Archer kissed her cheek. “I won’t,” he vowed, unashamed to shed tears of his own. “Not today. Not ever.”