Page 117 of Unfaithful

But it still hurts.

There were only two other people beside me on the deck, smoking and engaging in quiet conversation. When they finished, they stepped back inside, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I let out a sigh, turning my gaze back to the water and watching how the moonlight shimmered on the rippling surface.

Then I heard the door open and close behind me. Heavy footsteps followed, approaching the deck. Probably another smoker. I didn't bother to look.

But then I heard his voice. My breath hitched.

That voice.

Low, deep, and unmistakably his.

"There you are, Peaches. I've been looking for you inside."

I turned slowly, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. And there he was—Archie, just a few steps away, clad in his black leather jacket and those worn jeans he loved so much, watching me with those familiar, intense eyes.

Every bone in my body melted, and every taut nerve softened.

My eyes burned with unshed tears as I stood there, speechless, stunned into silence at the mere sight of him. The intensity of my emotions threatened to spill over.

For a long moment, we stood in the quiet, locked in a tender gaze. He smiled at me—soft, beautiful, and reassuring—while my lips quivered, betraying the storm raging within me. I bit down gently, swallowing the sob that threatened to escape.

"Hey, what's with that face?" he asked, his brows knitting together in concern. "Come here."

Before I could answer, he pulled me into his chest, his arms wrapping around me in that familiar, comforting way. I pressed my lips tightly together, trying so damn hard not to cry.

"I miss you," I murmured shakily against his chest.

He tightened his hold on me, his warmth sinking into my skin.

"I miss you too," he whispered softly.

"I thought you wouldn't come."

He let out a slow sigh. "I wasn't sure at first... but I missed you too much."

I tilted my head up, meeting his mesmerizing green eyes with a slight frown. "Why weren't you sure?"

He looked at me, his eyes gently searching my face. "Because you haven't told me to come back to you."

"What?" I stammered, blinking up at him.

He smiled wider, leaning down, his forehead touching mine. "I was waiting for you."

I pulled away slightly, trying to see him more clearly. "Is that why you never reached out?" I asked, my voice trembling as my eyes welled with tears.

"Yeah," he said with a smile—gentle, steady, and filled with a warmth that stirred something deep inside me.

"You shouldn't wait for me." My fingers clutched his leather jacket. "I wanted you to keep living your life, not waste it waiting for me."

"I made you a promise," he murmured, his hands gently cradling my face. "And no matter how hard I tried, I knew I could never break it." His thumbs brushed slow, deliberate circles over my cheekbones, his gaze searching mine. "What about you?"

"I tried," I whispered, my voice unsteady. "But no matter what I did, I kept coming back to you."

Then, without thinking, I pulled him close, holding on as if it could make up for all the time we'd lost.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to realize it, Archie."

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