I HAVEN'T SPOKEN TO Archie for nearly three days.
When he said Matt was taking him to the airport, I don't even know where my mind went. It went straight to the worst. It went straight to what Chloe had said, even though she'd apologised and said she didn't mean any of it. It went straight to him leaving me. But it didn't just go to him leaving, it went to him moving on to a new, better life in America where I could no longer be in his way.
But every day I thought about it harder, trying to get my head around it, but then every day ended the same. It ended with me crying about Archie not wanting me there.
I was disappointed in him. I felt like he was a coward, just like he said he was, because he didn't want me there. I doubted him, I doubted our relationship, and by the time I got home I felt worse than I had ever felt in my entire life. I was so angry I could barely speak.
But now I was running out of time. And as the last day came for me to think about it, I realised I'd been so stupid. And so selfish.
It wasn't him leaving me, it was the opposite.
It was that he didn't want to leave me, and me coming with him will only make it harder for him to be able to leave.
That last day wasn't me being mad at him. It was me being so embarrassed over how I acted that I didn't want to see him. The thought of him being disappointed in how I reacted was shameful enough for me to never come out of my room again.
But I didn't have a choice.
He was leaving today, later on this afternoon, and there was no way I was letting him leave without telling him how sorry I was and that I wouldn't have been surprised if he was disappointed in me, and never wanted to see me again. A huge part of me wanted him not to forgive me, because I deserved to live with the shame of how I acted. But I knew he probably would... because he's Archie and he's incredible.
These last few days have proved how amazing he is compared to me. If it was the other way round, he would have accepted it. He never would have stormed off, driven off and then shut him out for days.
I could hear he was still in his room when I finally decided to get over myself and go and talk to him. Before I knocked, I could hear him mumbling to himself, putting stuff into bags and boxes for us to send on later, and when I did knock, the sound of his voice came like it was the first word I'd heard in years. It was a relief.
I open the door slowly and he has his back to me, packing away some jumpers into box. When he hears the door hit against the chest of drawers, then sees me standing in the doorway, he drops the jumpers and comes straight over to me, pulling me into his arms and wrapping them around me like a cocoon. He never hesitated, just like I knew he wouldn't.
We didn't say anything for ages, he just held me, he kissed the top of my head, gently rocking me from side to side.
I speak first. I pull my head up and look at him. "Archie, I'm so sorry." I snuggle back into him after kissing the side of his jaw, pulling myself into him as close as I can.
After a few more minutes I feel him shaking his head. "I'm sorry okay." I look at him and he cuts me off before I can say anything. "No, I am okay. Of course I want you there, but I know I'm not strong enough to go through those gates if you're there." He sniffs and his voice falters. "I need you. I need you more than I realised, and I'm going to be and feel empty without you."
He cups both of my cheeks with his hands and leans forward to kiss me. When he pulls away, a tear has fallen loose and his eyes are glassy.
"I don't want to go."
It was the first time he had been the one to say that, but I knew he didn't actually mean it. He was saying it because he thought it was what I wanted to hear. Sure, yes, I wanted to hear it, but I couldn't tell him not to go, not now. As we'd talked about so many times over the last few months, this was his dream. He dreamed of studying in New York at Columbia, and then travelling the world, and that was exactly what we were both going to do. I wasn't about to take that away from.
I pull back to look up into his eyes and he keeps his arms locked around me. Tears are in them, and he's starting to shake, and seeing like this really tugs at my heart.
"Archie, you are way stronger than this," I say to him, ducking my head under his so I can meet his eyes again. "You can do it. And hey," I tip his head with my fingers gently. "This isn't goodbye, is it?"
He looks at me then and shakes his head slowly from side to side. He pulls me back into the embrace and his sobs begin to ease as I stroke my hands up and down his back, tucking my face into the crook of his neck, kissing the soft skin there.
"I'm really going to miss you, Arch, you know that but we'll text all the time. We'll Skype; you'll ring me, I'll ring you. Then before you know it, it'll be Christmas and I'll be with you in New York for three whole weeks."
He smiles. It's only small, shy, but his eyes are bright with emotion. And when he brings his lips down to meet mine, he pours all of that into it. He kisses me softly but I can feel everything he's feeling, and by the time we break apart we're both spinning and breathless.
All my anger - even though it had been completely unfounded and unnecessary - had washed away the moment he had held me in his arms again, and in this moment I knew everything would be okay.
We all sat downstairs for the next few hours, until Matt and Archie had to go to the airport. We joked about how university had come around so quickly, and that only yesterday Dad had been dropping us all off at primary school. We joked about past bad decisions, with Matt mentioning Dee and Callum, to which I threw a pillow at his head and bit back mentioning his new hair cut.
Yesterday Matt had gone down to the hairdressers and asked him to shave it all off. He came back and none of us knew what to say. When he left he said he'd come back looking different, but none of us expected a complete buzz cut. Dad laughed, I couldn't believe it. I didn't know what Archie had said, but from the laughter he gives, I'd say he was just as shocked as I was.
But soon it was time for them to leave.
I gripped Archie's middle tightly, holding him all the way to the door as Dad and Matt brought out his bags. I held him tightly as he took my face in his hands and told me to look at him. I did, and as I saw the look in his eyes, a look of promise, I loosened my grip on him.
"Text me when you get to the airport okay?" I ask and he nods.
"And when I get on the plane. And off the plane at the other end okay."
I nod.
"I love you."
I sniffle and tuck my face back into his chest. "I love you too," I mumble into his shirt.
After that Archie transplants me to Dad as he hugs Millie, and then he transplants me again to Millie when he goes to hug Dad. He then pulls me back into his arms one more time, kisses me once on my forehead, then my nose, then finally my lips.
"Don't miss me too much, okay?" He jokes.
I laugh and wipe my eyes as he goes down the steps backwards. "I won't."
He laughs too, and waves at us all. "See you in four months," he says with a wave, his smile bright and wide as he turns around.
"See you," I whisper quietly, hugging Millie.
I didn't stop looking out the door until the car disappeared around the corner, towards the main road, and when I shut the front door behind me, I cried.
***
IT'S BEEN NEARLY THREE hours since Archie and Matt left and neither of them has texted to say they had got to the airport okay. Archie's flight was in thirty minutes, and I was starting to worry.
I was now sitting in the front window, watching for Matt's car to appear from around the corner, and even though Dad had just said he was probably just late for his flight, I knew something was wrong. Somehow I knew it. I could feel it.
I text him again.
Babe, where are you? Text me when you get this xxxxxx
"Has Matt texted?" I ask Dad.
He shakes his head so I text Matt as well.
Matt please can you text me or call me to say everything's okay? Xxx
No response.
I wait for another two hours near the window before I try calling Archie, and Dad tries Matt, and when it gets to eight o'clock, both of us are nearly frantic with worry.
I was about to give Archie another ring when we both hear the doorbell. My heart leaps in relief that Matt had just taken ages to get home, maybe stopping off at Chloe's without telling us, or even traffic. Dad was out shopping, he had heard there was a huge accident on the M25 earlier on the radio, involving a collision, so maybe he had been caught up in that.
Dad goes to get the door, but it isn't Matt's voice I can hear, it's a voice I don't recognise. And as the world comes into focus, my eyes see a red and blue flashing light flickering outside. I push up onto my knees to get a proper look out the window and there is a police car sitting at the bottom of our driveway.
Tears come to my eyes. Oh God, no.
"Dad, who is it?" I call from my seat on the sofa, unable to recognise the sound of my voice. It sounds like I have a frog in it, or that I'm speaking as if I'm in a fishbowl.
He doesn't respond, so I follow the sound of voices to find an officer talking to him at the door. The officer sees me and stops.
Dad is white as a sheet and he's holding the door so hard his fingers have gone white.
"Mr Granger?"
Dad nods.
"My name is Constable Paul Smith," the officer starts, removing his hat. "This is Hannah Bailey," he nods to his colleague who is climbing the steps behind him.
"How can I help you officers?" Dad says dutifully even though I could see him shaking all over.
The first officer clears his throat and I feel like I'm having an out of body experience. I've seen this in so many TV shows and films so many times. A character drives off into the sunset, a happy ending in sight, and then a police officer comes at the end of the episode telling his or her family there had been an accident.
I didn't want this to be that.
Anything but that.
I wanted Matt and Archie to be okay, and that this was all some kind of dream; one I'd wake up from momentarily.
"We are here after what happened in a traffic accident earlier today, about five hours ago, on the M25. It involved two cars, one of which belonged to your son."
Oh God, no.
I take Dad's hand as he looks at the officers. He nods, clearly in shock, and the officer continues.
"We aren't entirely sure what happened exactly, but from the damage on the car, we think it may have been deliberate."
My heart is in my mouth. "Deliberate?" I ask.
He nods. "From witnesses on the scene, they said someone drove into the back of him."
"Are the boys okay?" Dad asks.
The officer doesn't say anything for a moment so Dad has to repeat his question.
"The Golf was pushed and hit the crash barrier, Mr Granger, and it turned over," he answers, as if it was the only thing he could think of as answer to Dad's simple question.
If the car turned over... Oh God, I didn't want to think about it.
"Are... the boys... okay?" Dad asks for a third time, putting his arm around me. He sounds angry, but I can see tears streaming from his eyes, same as mine.
My heart was beating hard and fast, and I could barely contain myself when the officer started to speak again.
"The boys were both taken to Richmond Hospital, and we've been asked to bring you to them."
Dad doesn't say anything but he nods and walks out of the house.
"Dad... you're in your slippers," I sob, moving backwards to find his Adidas sliders Matt got him at Christmas to wear around the house.
He slips them on and looks at me. "Stay here, Tessa. Wait for Millie to get back, okay."
I shake my head and sob. "NO!" I wipe my eyes but it's no use, the tears keep coming. "No, Dad I'm coming with you. I'll text Millie to meet us at the hospital."
Dad nods, not putting up a fight.
I pull on my trainers and follow Dad out to the car. We get in the back and the car officers drive off in silence. Dad holds my hand the whole way, neither of us saying anything, hoping to God that both of them are okay when we get there.
I can't lose one of them, let alone both of them. I don't want to. I can't. None of us can. I'd be broken beyond repair if either of them didn't make it, and the only way I could keep myself upright was if I told myself they would both be okay.
My brother, who the last thing I said to was that his hair was stupid, was the person who has constantly picked me up off the floor when I was down and out. Before Archie and I got together, he would do his best to make me smile by doing stupid impressions, and they are what got me through most days. He listened, he was an amazing listener, and I didn't want to think about not having his ear to speak into if he didn't make it.
And Archie. He's the other half of me. He's my soulmate, and if I didn't have him... well, then I thought life wasn't really worth living.
When we get to the hospital, there is another police officer standing outside, next to a nurse, who is clearly waiting for us.
"Hi there, Mr Granger?" The nurse asks. Dad nods, but I can see the grave expression on her face. One of them hasn't made it.
"We have one of your sons in critical condition in the ICU upstairs. The whole left side of his leg has been broken from the impact, with his right leg twisted and damaged. It isn't broken, but it will cause him to limp." Dad doesn't know what to say. I don't either. I want to ask who it is, but I fear if I open my mouth it'll just come out as a scream. "When he arrived, he had a punctured lung and internal bleeding, but we have managed to stop the bleeding, but he will need more extensive surgeries to fix his legs."
The doctor not telling who it was is torture. It's like telling us we were about to live without either our heart or our lungs. We couldn't choose. We shouldn't have to choose. How could we have to choose? How can one person live without a heart or without lungs... You shouldn't have to be asked to choose between two things you cannot function without.
"Which boy?" Dad asks.
Again the nurse doesn't answer his question immediately, but from the look on her face and the way she puts a comforting hand on Dad's and my shoulders, I know which one she'll say. Tears start running down my face and I can barely breathe.
"When ambulances got to the car, they performed every form of resuscitation and procedure they could. They managed to get his heart going again, but en route to the hospital... Matt went into cardiac arrest. Paramedics were unable to restart his heart, as he had lost a lot of blood. He didn't make it."
My mind went black and it was like my whole world went into slow motion and finally stopped moving. I feel the floor rising to meet me, and a pair of arms catch me, carrying me over to a bench near the door. I can hear someone trying to talk to me, but I can't make out what they're saying.
"Mr Granger, Miss Granger," the nurse looks at us an her expression hardens, as if she's said this so many times she's had to stop herself from using her emotions. "I'm so sorry for your loss."
I barely heard her. My brother, my blood, my best friend. The third member of our musketeers trio. I'd been with him practically every since we were born, and now... I felt like I was missing a piece of my soul.
"No. No, no, no, no he has to be okay," I whisper. "Can you try again? Wake him up... can you tr-"
I look across at Dad and I can see he's standing stock still, and I realise he's in shock. He was looking directly ahead of him, into the hospital, as if trying to see through the walls to find Matt. Neither of us say anything else and the nurse looks between the two of us, wondering what else she could say.
I sniffle and cup my mouth as I try to pull myself together, but nothing's working.
My brother had his whole life ahead of him. He had just passed his exams to study at a university, and then he was hoping to play for an FA cup under nineteen team. He was happy with Chloe, happy enough to shave his head. He was just starting to become the wonderful man we always knew he could be.
But now he's gone.
He was never going to smile again. He was never going to laugh at any of my really bad jokes again, or kick a football so far up the field it goes straight to the goalie at the other end. He was never going to take too long in the shower, or clog the drain up with his hair. He was never going to set the smoke alarm off by burning baked beans or eggs. He was never going to be my brother again... and the thought made me feel numb, hollow and completely empty.
"Do... you know who... the other driver... was?" Dad asks, trying to keep his voice steady.
"We're still trying to get information, but witnesses say the car that hit them was white. A white SUV. Do you know anyone who owns a car that matches that description?"
I gasp.
"Most of the damage from the car, before it turned over, was on the passenger side as well, which is why Archie is in such a bad way."
"Richard," I say, my voice barely a whisper.
Dad hears me and shakes his head. "It can't be. He... He wouldn't."
"Richard did it, Dad," I say louder.
"Richard?"
"Richard Wall. Archie's dad." The officer notes the name down in his pad. "He owns a white Mercedes SUV and he beat Archie half to death last year, so I'd safely say, yeah, he would do this."
My voice was stronger than I'd realised, mainly because I was now so angry. If I was right and it was Richard, he'd not only tried to take Archie away again, but he succeeded in killing my brother, someone who had done absolutely nothing to him.
But what were the chances?
Archie hadn't spoken to him at all, or at least I didn't think he had. The last time he saw him was at the trial. But what I couldn't understand was how he could possibly know that was where Archie would be? And the motorway is so busy with so many cars, how did he know they would be in that precise spot, unless he'd been waiting. And they weren't even in Archie's car, so how the hell had he known to look out for Matt's car?
At the moment, though, all those questions could come later.
Right now, all I wanted to think about was Archie. He was lying in hospital - again, and because of his father - and I didn't even know if he knew Matt hadn't made it. If he was rushed straight to surgery, I bet he didn't know and the last thing I wanted, or anyone wanted, was for him to wake up in a strange place and for someone he didn't know to tell him about Matt.
Last year he'd said about protecting me, and protecting Matt if his dad came after him again... And with this happening... this would break him. No, it would absolutely shatter him.
"Archie. How's Archie doing?" Dad asks before I can get to it. A lump has stopped me from speaking.
"He's okay, and he's stable, but like I said, he will need to go in for more surgeries to fix his leg. His entire left leg is shattered from multiple impacts."
"That doesn't sound like he's doing okay," Dad says, but I grab his hand. What the doctor meant was that he was alive, and I wasn't about to start complaining about the fact he was alive. We didn't want to lose him too. We couldn't.
"Where is he?" I ask quietly.
"He's in the ICU, but he's stable okay," she says again. "Do you want to go and see him?"
Dad and I nod in unison, she nods too and follow her.
And as we reach the room, I hold Dad's hand and lean my head on his shoulder, giving him as much comfort as I can whilst I draw what comfort I can from him.