When Mom got sick, Archer quit his job and moved in with us. Spoon-fed her when she was too tired. And I’d been so blinded by my own grief and anger that I didn’t see it was because he was so in love with her. Devoted, and then distraught afterward. I remember the night I found him doubled over in a panic attack because he couldn’t breathe through his sobs. Had it been acceptable, I think he might’ve followed her. But he didn’t. And I’m realizing he didn’t because of me. To take care of me. It shouldn’t matter that my dad’s never been a father to me because Archer is here. And he would’ve been
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