Hop, Skip, Wed

Chapter 5

"Hurting someone can be as easy as throwing a stone in the sea. But do you have any idea how deep that stone can go?"

-Anonymous

***

I gracefully entered the dining room, taking in the sight of an elegant older couple seated beside my mother. My father occupied the head of the table, leaving only one vacant seat—right beside Archer. Summoning my inner strength, I mentally prepared myself before gracefully sliding into the chair next to him. All eyes turned toward me, and Archer's mother, whom I assumed to be Kelly Smith, greeted me with a warm smile.

"I'm Kelly Smith, Archer's mom," she introduced herself with sweetness in her voice. "How was the flight?"

Before I could respond, the arrival of the food diverted my attention. The delectable spread before me momentarily erased any recollection of her question. Engaged in idle conversation with Archer's mother, I found myself curious about Archer's thoughts as he sat in silence, observing the room. A part of me yearned to unravel the enigma that he presented.

Once the meal concluded, I excused myself and ascended the stairs to check on Mia. Although she slumbered peacefully, I knew she would awaken soon, her hunger demanding attention. Anticipating her needs, I prepared a bottle of milk, ensuring it would be readily available upon her awakening.

In the kitchen, I warmed a glass of water, intending to mix in three scoops of baby formula. However, fate intervened as someone carelessly bumped into me, causing me to drop the glass. A startled shriek escaped my lips, accompanied by the glass slipping from my grasp. As the shards threatened my foot, Archer's swift action saved me, his arm instinctively wrapping around my waist. Momentarily caught off guard, I released myself from his grasp, creating a safe distance between us.

"What happened?" my mother's worried voice rang out.

"Nothing," I reassured them. "I dropped the baby formula and a glass, but we're both fine."

"Are you sure?" Archer's mother inquired, concern etched upon her features.

"Absolutely," I replied, striving to maintain a composed demeanor. "I should probably head to the supermarket to purchase a new pack of baby formula."

"Take Archer with you!" My mother beamed at the suggestion.

Before I could voice my objections, Archer swiftly snatched the car keys from the kitchen counter, striding towards the front door. Sensing the inevitability of the situation, I hastily gathered my purse and joined him outside. As we settled into the car, an initial silence enveloped us—a welcomed respite. I silently thanked the universe, silently dreading the moment when I would have to inform him of my decision to reject his proposal. While my parents would never force me into a marriage, the thought of disappointing them had dissuaded me from broaching the subject. I wanted to avoid that conversation altogether, shielding them from disappointment.

"So, what have you decided?" Archer finally inquired, his voice betraying his anticipation.

"About?" I feigned ignorance, hoping to convey my reluctance to engage in the topic.

"About the proposal. Are you going through with it or not?" His persistence shattered my hopes of avoiding the conversation.

"I have decided to end it. I'm sorry," I replied, my voice tinged with determination.

"What will you say to your parents?"

"I can tell them I don't want to get married, and they'll understand."

To my consternation, Archer made a series of wrong turns, evidently unfamiliar with the neighborhood. Unwilling to break the silence yet fearing becoming lost, I finally pointed out his error.

"You missed the turn," I stated, attempting to steer him in the right direction.

"No, it's a shortcut," he countered, his conviction unwavering.

Accepting his explanation, I redirected my attention to the radio, searching for a suitable station. Eventually, Archer brought the car to a halt, and I assumed we had arrived at the grocery store. However, when I glanced up, my heart sank—we found ourselves on a desolate, dilapidated road, far from the bustling supermarket.

Raising an eyebrow, I turned to him, silently questioning our unexpected location. Archer's gaze met mine, and a solemn declaration escaped his lips.

"I need to talk to you," he said simply.

"Uh...okay? Although, I must admit, this isn't the ideal setting for a conversation," I replied, my unease palpable.

Rolling his eyes, Archer retorted, "My grandfather believes that in order for me to inherit the family business, I must marry someone of his or my parents' choosing. My uncle, Dan, married a woman my grandfather didn't approve of, and she turned out to be less than desirable. Since then, my grandfather has lost faith in our ability to make sound decisions."

"Okay..." I responded cautiously, eager to comprehend the connection to our predicament.

"Three months ago, my cousin suddenly reappeared, charming our grandfather. He seeks a share of the family business. I could have tolerated it, except he's a deceitful cheat. He'll run the business into the ground. He even married the woman my grandfather chose for him."

"Okay...but I fail to see how this concerns me," I ventured, my confusion mounting.

"Well...you were my grandfather's original choice for me. He witnessed the impact you made on the orphanage and immediately desired that I marry you," Archer revealed, unraveling the intricate web of circumstances.

I still struggled to grasp the significance of his revelation, but I allowed him to continue.

"If you agree to marry me, my grandfather will undoubtedly bestow the business upon me. Therefore, I need your...assistance. You must say yes," he implored, his voice tinged with desperation.

"We met today! I hardly know you," I protested, my skepticism resounding.

"Yes, but I know you."

My initial shock morphed into a blend of intrigue and trepidation as Archer clarified, "When I discovered that my grandfather intended for me to marry you, I conducted some research. A cursory search revealed details about your life and work."

My unease grew, as his words unintentionally fueled the discomfort lingering in the air.

"It doesn't make it less intrusive," I commented, the violation of privacy unsettling.

"It wasn't... I promise. I merely wanted to familiarize myself with your endeavors, such as your workplace and educational pursuits," Archer attempted to explain, though realizing his explanation only further exacerbated the situation.

"Why should I help you?" I challenged, maintaining a cautious distance.

"Because I have a proposition for you. During my research, I discovered your orphanage and recognized that you have admitted over thirty children in the past three years. While commendable, it appears that overcrowding is becoming an issue, which could prompt intervention from Child Protective Services. I can help you relocate," he proposed.

"I already know about the overcrowding situation and have secured a new location for the orphanage," I replied, a smug smile tugging at my lips.

"I'm aware of your knowledge," Archer admitted, deflating my self-satisfaction. "I've seen the new location, and while it's excellent, it will require substantial funding to sustain. You alone cannot cover the expenses of rent, food, and the children's education. Although you receive donations, to run the orphanage efficiently in your new premises, you'll require at least twice as many contributions."

"Yes, I am aware of that," I conceded, irked by his intimate knowledge.

"Have you devised a solution?"

As Archer's proposal hung in the air, I pretended to consider his words, concealing the relief that surged within me at the thought of finally finding a solution to the orphanage's financial challenges.

"Okay," I replied, maintaining an air of calmness while internally rejoicing at the magnitude of his offer.

"No f*****g way! Are you serious?" Archer's face lit up with unadulterated joy.