Fiona
I drove to my mother's apartment the morning after Archie told me he loved me, still raw from the night before, still carrying the ache of words I hadn't been able to give him even though I'd meant them completely. She was up and moving easily now, fully recovered, though the memory of how fragile she'd been months earlier still lingered uncomfortably close whenever I looked at her.
She took one look at my face and set down the coffee cup she'd been holding.
"What happened?"
"He told me he loves me," I said, sitting down heavily at the small kitchen table. "Last night. And I couldn't say it back, Mom. I wanted to more than anything, but the words wouldn't come. I just stood there and cried instead, and he thinks I'm simply not ready, that I need more time, and I let him believe t
