“A loud clap of thunder shook the cottage, and I jumped slightly, causing Archer to take a step toward me. What are you doing here? I asked. You don’t like thunderstorms, he answered. I tilted my head, confused. You walked a mile in the rain because I don’t like thunderstorms? He hesitated for a second, looking away, frowning slightly. Then he looked back at me and said simply, Yes. He paused, his expression pained. I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but I just thought if I sat on your porch, you wouldn’t be scared. You wouldn’t be alone. Oh God. I couldn’t help it; my face crumpled, and I started to cry.”