He knows that Freddie Archer is not going to say it out loud, but it's clear in his hazel eyes that he knows who he is. Jonah can see it, that unspoken I know who you are, and I know that you're the guy who broke my wife's heart you piece of shit as they both just stare at each other in silence. And he thinks he's not doing a really good job pretending that he doesn't know what he knows now, so he's pretty sure that Freddie Archer can see right through him.
But Jonah is also not going to say it.
(How is he supposed to say it anyway? So. You married my ex-girlfriend, huh? The one person I'm still helplessly in love with, even after all these years. That sounds pathetic.)
He blinks, shamefully trying to remove any evidence on his face that he just spent the whole meeting daydreaming, inwardly planning to make Freddie Archer's wife fall back in love with him. He feels like his world has been flipped upside down twice in succession in just the span of two hours, and isn't that fucking crazy? He was just thinking about how lucky he was to fly in to New York and walk into that coffee shop just the right moment in time to cross paths with the only woman who's ever owned his heart, thinking it was fate pushing them back together. And here he is, two hours later, sitting in the office of her very husband that he had no idea about, with their wedding picture seemingly glaring daggers at him from the shelves.
Fate is absolutely whooping his ass right now.
He knows now why Hannah Taylors was in that coffee shop, right across Archer Tower. She was just here to visit her husband. Most definitely in this very room, too. Probably sat on this same chair. Did they kiss hello, and kiss goodbye right before she left? If it's possible to feel even worse now...
But then... Freddie Archer smiles serenely at him, and asks in a neutral tone, "Are you married, Jonah?"
Thrown off, he can only shake his head no. God, no.
And the other man's smile widens. "Good. I've been thinking recently, and I think everybody was right. I did marry too young. My wife doesn't even love me."
Jonah's jaw drops. Freddie looks away, still with that same smile on his face as he takes the picture frame on his desk, of his beautiful bride sitting on the bottom of the stairs, and gently stores it inside his drawer.
"We don't even see each other that much. We were stuck here in New York during the lockdown, and I think she just got sick of me," Freddie continues in a light tone, as if he didn't just drop an imaginary bomb right there. As if telling him a joke that Jonah is supposed to get, but he doesn't. "She lives back home with her parents... and I'm very busy with work, you see, so I don't get to visit often. I guess we just grew apart."
Jonah finds his voice and offers weakly, "I'm... sorry."
The man waves it away. "Nah. It's fine. I've seen it coming since a long time ago. She deserves someone better, you know?"
He bites his lip as he carefully considers what to say to that. "I'm sure your wife loves you very much, Freddie."
"Oh, yes, I'm sure she does," the other man responds. "But not in that way."
Jonah sits still like a statue. He doesn't understand why Freddie is telling him any of this. Shouldn't he absolutely despise him, for what he's done to Hannah all those years ago? After all, the man was there that night, and witnessed the tears in Hannah's eyes as she walked away and left him kneeling on the wet ground holding a pathetic ring, in the back garden of the venue of her brother's wedding. He's sure Hannah's told her husband all about him, all the ways he broke her heart and took her for granted. So why is he basically letting him know that his marriage is failing?
"Actually, we... aren't really together. Not for years," Freddie says, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. His tone lifts again. "Nobody knows that. We pretend like we're in love, of course, in front of the public eye. It's been clear for a while that our marriage is, well, not working out, but we haven't really planned on officially separating yet. But something just recently told me that maybe I should start thinking about it."
... And Jonah doesn't know how to respond to that.
Freddie chuckles, probably noticing the flabbergasted look on Jonah's face. "We're okay—we have a good relationship. We're friends. But some people aren't meant to be together, right? And I think she deserves a real shot of happiness, with someone who truly loves her... Wouldn't you agree?"
"... Right," is all Jonah manages to say. Is this a test? If so, was that the correct answer? He has no idea.
"Oh, what the hell. What am I even saying? I'm sorry for dumping this all on you, Jonah," Freddie says, laughing. "I'm sure you didn't plan to spend the afternoon listening to my marital problems."
"It's fine," Jonah weakly replies.
And maybe, maybe a part of him aches for the guy—how painful must it be to go through a crumbling marriage? Especially to someone as special as Hannah? If he were in Freddie's shoes, he would be walking around like a zombie, living his life with a broken heart. Just like when Hannah broke up with him when their long-distance thing wasn't working out. Or when he went home clutching a box of ring that she never touched, five years ago.
... Another part of him is guilty for the small burst of relief that popped in his chest as he realizes that maybe he still has a chance—but he's ignoring it for now.
"The reason why I asked to talk to you in my office is, actually, because of this—" Freddie takes a small calendar from the other side of his desk, a corporate one, with the Archer logo obnoxiously all over it, and flips the pages. He points at a date in September. "That's the day of the Archer Gala. It's an annual celebration of my father's life work, and we're also launching a new foundation to honor my mother... and we'd love to have you there..."
Freddie launches into a thoughtful proposal for him to cater for a five-course meal at the gala dinner. Since, coincidentally, he's in talks to book the cover story for the September/October issue of the culinary magazine owned by Archer Media, Freddie thinks that it would be an honor to have him present his personalized menu for the guests.
"I'll draw up a formal offer and send it to you shortly, but I hope you'll consider it," Freddie ends it, simply smiling while Jonah's head is reeling. He's having a tough time processing everything that's going on right now, but sure, he'll consider that. Probably after a quick mental breakdown in his hotel room later. "I'll personally be in touch."
With numb hands, he and Freddie Archer exchange handshakes. The blond man then gives him a light clap on the shoulder, and tells him, "Good luck with your endeavors, Mr. Gibbs." And with numb legs, Jonah walks out of Archer Tower.
He's having a hard time deciding whether or not he should be sending that text to Hannah. That simple, Hey, would you like to go out for a drink with me? text, which he already typed before walking into Freddie Archer's office room, is already sitting in his drafts. How can he send it now, after meeting the man who put a ring on her finger? Even if he didn't actually see the wedding ring when he saw her at that coffee shop (if she wore one, he'd definitely remember—he purposefully glanced at her hands a few times to check).
It's a dilemma. Is it ethical to pursue a married woman, even after getting a subtle blessing from her own husband? Or maybe he's being presumptuous—maybe Freddie Archer wasn't giving him a blessing at all. Maybe it was a threat instead?
He sits on it for a really long time. He doesn't leave his hotel room, and barely even remembers to order himself dinner. The next morning, at exactly 10 A.M., there's a new e-mail popping up on his notification, sent from an Archer Corporation address—specifically, from the son of the former CEO himself. He has to read it a few more times to make sure that the e-mail actually came from and not some lowly intern. What in the hell.
Freddie sent him the proposal he talked about—for the gala dinner. Jonah's jaw drops at the amount of zeros in the proposed offer. Christ almighty. The man also attached the guest list, and Jonah gets dizzy from the sheer number of Very Important People that might show up on that event. Sure, he's catered fancy dinners before, but nowhere near this caliber, and he's not too sure if he should do this. What if he accidentally poisons a former Mayor of New York with an unknown allergy?
They exchange a couple more e-mails in the following days. So, have you considered the offer yet? Freddie asks in one of the e-mails. He rambles a lot in these e-mails. Some of it makes absolutely no sense. In the next paragraph, he casually mentions, Time's ticking—my wife's only in New York until the start of summer break. Too bad I can't clear up my schedule to be with her. How long will you be in the city, by the way? Just asking. Completely unrelated. Like, what is he even talking about?
Wait—holy shit. Maybe Freddie Archer is actually encouraging him to get in contact with Hannah?
So, nearly one week after that fateful day, Jonah finally bites the bullet and sends that text message. He grimaces as he waits for a reply, wondering if he just made a mistake. But then, he decides that a bigger mistake would be letting Hannah slip away from his life, once again. At least they can meet up and talk to each other again—maybe just as friends. And maybe, maybe he'll be okay with that.
Half an hour later, his phone pings with a new text message, and he allows a small smile to bloom on his face.