Blinded by Limerence

82 | A Mess of Things

"Is that so?"

"Well — actually — I don't know if you're aware, but that freedom wall page we used to have? Er — it's never been taken down and as a matter of fact, is still quite active."

Archer passed Morgan his phone, which he had apparently fished out of his jean pocket. It was opened to a post that read: 

Morgan Darhk spotted picking up her KID from Rosewood Elementary! Dramatic of her, running away to raise a CHILD all on her own. Poor Trevor — and poor HER! Doesn't she know she'll never escape the limelight?

Morgan didn't know why, but she chuckled softly. All those years ago, Morgan would've loved to be the center of attention; she had that all-too-familiar teenage urge to be noticed — but now, as she read and re-read the post some anonymous no-life had written about her, she couldn't help but laugh.

"It's a little coincidental, don't you think?" she said, grinning. "The moment you try to look for me, someone goes posting about my whereabouts?" 

Archer's smile faltered. "Er — I was actually due at The Brew this afternoon, but when I'd heard you've come back, I wasn't sure if you'd want me... there — so — so I chickened out —" he forced a light chuckle "— but Addie told me I was being dramatic, beat me up, and scoured the freedom wall for any news of you to see where you went."

Morgan examined the post more closely. It was dated a few months ago. 

"Addie knew you left to drop off Nick — she tells me your son's name's Nick? It's cute — at school, but obviously, she didn't know what school he goes to, so she turned to the freedom wall page for any shred of information — which, turned out to be more reliable than I thought."

"You gotta admire Addie's dedication," said Morgan, "for scrolling down until —" Morgan peered at Archer's phone screen again "— the August archives for a post that may or may not exist."

As a brief silence began to settle over the pair, Morgan turned to look back at the small group of children scattered round the big playground. Nick was on top of the tallest slide; he spotted Morgan looking at him and waved enthusiastically before speedily sliding down the red curves of the twisty slide. 

"So — you're here pretending to be a parent to one of these children to not seem creepy or are you outright being that creepy, childless weirdo who's at a children's playground?" asked Morgan, her lips titled up into a playful smile. 

Archer laughed that laugh of his Morgan hadn't heard in a while; it was oddly comforting. 

"Neither, actually," he said before turning his attention to the children as well. Morgan watched him scan the playground until his eyes stopped at a little girl who couldn't have been more than seven years old. 

Her hair was as golden as the sun, and it was tied back into a loose braid; she was in a lacey, periwinkle-colored dress that seemed a size too big for her, and it hung loosely around her collarbone as she, at Archer's calls, came running to the bench where the two sat at. 

"Morgan, meet my kid, Adrienne," he told her, and Morgan couldn't help but notice that Adrienne looked remarkably like Hanna — except for the eyes — she has her father's eyes.

Ah. So THIS was Adrienne.

In hindsight, Morgan felt very embarrassed indeed to have conjured a make-believe picture of Archer and some girl in a relationship — and even felt slightly jealous — when in reality he was doing something much, much better and rewarding: raising a beautiful little girl.

"It was plainly stupid of me to not want anything to do with this beautiful, amazing girl in the first place," Archer began saying, giving Adrienne a big hug in which he ruffled her already-messy hair and tickled her sides until she tears appeared at the corner of her brilliantly gray eyes. 

It seemed odd at first that he was talking about his abandoning point-blank, in front of the abandoned, nonetheless, but perhaps he thought she was too young to understand these things, anyway, and assumed they'd go over her head.

It was quite similar to her own parenting method, actually.

"I was young and naïve," Archer went on unprompted, sighing deeply. "I always did want to make up with Hanna — it remains one of my biggest regrets — with the exemption of Trevor, of course... Hanna — she was a good mother, you know?" he added, the frown on his face deepening. "She used to tie Adrienne's hair in all these fancy knots and braids, and she'd put little flowers and barrettes in there... She'd — she'd buy her all these pretty dresses and outfits — she had her size down by memory, you know —"

Archer broke off, averting his gaze, but Morgan couldn't help but wonder —

"Why... why are you referring to Hanna in past tense?"

Archer froze, his eyes going very round. "You haven't heard?" he asked, frowning slightly. 

Morgan shook her head no, on the edge of her seat. Her heart was beating very fast for some reason.

"Hanna — Hanna died a few years ago."