"Are you sure about this, Winnie?" Huxley asks, walking me out to the parking lot.
I'm not sure at all. There was a point in my life when I trusted Archer explicitly, but that time is past. "It'll be fine, Hucks."
"What do you know about the guy?"
I pause next to the driver's side door of my car and take a few deep breaths. I may not trust Archer, but I don't want Huxley to figure that out. I don't appreciate him questioning my decision-making skills. It's a little stressful right now and his questions are extra pressure I don't need. "We dated for years, Huxley."
His face pinches together in agitation when I mention how long I dated Archer, but he's the one who keeps bringing it up. I want to forget those years of my life too.