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Archie and Veronica are getting married today, and Betty is happy for them.
It makes sense to her, the two of them together. She feels like it’s a culmination of sorts, the conclusion to the story that started the night Veronica glided into Pop’s and unknowingly altered the course of all of their futures forever. Archie and Veronica have drifted apart and found their way back to each other countless times since, two magnets unable to resist their pull once they’re in the same space.
It reminds Betty of her and Jughead. Somehow, they’ve all beaten the odds.
Jughead pokes his head into Betty’s room just as she’s sliding the last few pins into her hair, adjusting the strands around her shoulders one final time. “You almost ready?” he asks.
Betty nods. “Yeah, just a second, Jug.”
“I’ll meet you downstairs. Don’t be too much longer, I promised Archie we’d be early.”
Jughead disappears down the hallway, and Betty’s eyes fall on the picture she still has taped up next to her mirror. She should probably take it down, she knows, but there’s a certain charm to her childhood bedroom that she’s never felt quite right disturbing.
The picture is of her and Archie, fifteen years old at most. She thinks his dad must have taken it. Betty is whispering in his ear and he’s laughing, an unrestrained sparkle in his eye.
His wedding invitation sits on her vanity directly below it, and Betty half smiles at the irony. She had always pictured this day a lot differently throughout her life, the key difference being that she would be the bride.
Betty’s never been able to define exactly why she and Archie are incompatible in that way, but it’s a fundamental truth she’s come to terms with. She’s glad they tried, at least, and that now she knows. Not knowing would’ve been much worse. She would’ve been left wearing rose-colored glasses, forever looking at Archie through the lens of her teenage fantasies. She would’ve been left wondering what it would be like to hold his hand, to kiss the scar on his eyebrow, to have him cover her body with his and press his fingers into her hips. She would’ve wondered how his arm would fit around her waist, what his chest would feel like under her touch, what his voice would sound like in the morning.
Now she knows all of these things, has learned them and committed them to memory, so the part of her that loves Archie can be safely tucked away in the past. She knows they’re just too different deep in their cores, opposites that definitely do not attract. They’re fire and water; darkness and light.
And today he’s getting married to someone else.
The wedding is small, held outside near Sweetwater River. Betty counts maybe fifty people total in attendance. It’s the complete opposite of Veronica’s first wedding, at least based on the few pictures Betty’s seen. This time Veronica has only one bridesmaid, her friend Katy Keene, and Betty isn’t bothered by it at all. There may have been a time where she entertained fantasies of taking Veronica’s bouquet and giving her an encouraging smile before she said her vows, but they certainly don’t have that kind of relationship anymore. They’re old enough now to call a spade a spade.
Of course, Jughead is still Archie’s best man, but Betty knows that’s different.
“Nice wedding,” Jughead comments when they arrive. “Not really what I’d expect from Veronica Lodge, but nice.”
“Yeah,” Betty replies absently. She realizes she’s been chewing the inside of her cheek.
“I’ll see you for the reception,” he tells her, kissing her cheek quickly, and she nods.
Betty finds her seat among the rows of folding chairs, smiling accordingly as the few members of the wedding party walk down the aisle. When she watches Jughead take his place beside the altar, she feels a strange pinching sensation in her chest. She’s never really pictured the two of them here, she realizes. The image she tries to conjure up is blurry.
Archie walks down the aisle, then, and the pinching sensation intensifies. Betty tells herself that it’s pride. He’s her best friend, and she’s so proud of him, so proud that he’s found the person he’s meant to be with.
She finds herself tearing up at the vows, swiping at her eyes quickly before anyone can see. She blames it on excitement, on the overwhelming feeling of getting a glimpse at what her own future could hold. Archie and Veronica are just so good for each other, Betty thinks. They’re going to make each other so happy.
They work, and someday she and Jughead will work like that too.
~~~
“We can’t keep doing this, Ronnie. When does it end?”
Veronica purses her lips. “I told you, Archie, I have the upper hand here. I just need to bide my time a little longer, wait for my father to slip up-”
“But he won’t! Even if you think you’ve won, he’ll just come back at you even harder. Like he always does.” Archie rubs a hand across his face, standing up from the couch. Their Pembrooke apartment feels suffocating. He half expects to look to his left and see Hiram Lodge striding out of the office that still feels like it belongs to him.
“This is the last time. I promise,” Veronica says.
He used to believe her. “That’s what you say every time , Veronica. Maybe it’ll be the last time for now. But if it’s not your dad coming after us, then it’s Chad, or some other ghost from your past-”
“Chad? Why are you bringing up Chad right now?”
“Because we've been married for over a year and you’re still doing business with your ex-husband!” Archie shoots back. He can’t remember the last time they spoke to each other like this. He supposes the argument has been a long time coming, though.
The look Veronica gives him is icy. “I explained all of that to you. Chad and I have…..an arrangement.”
Archie scoffs. “That’s really wonderful to hear.”
She pauses for a moment, biting her lip. Archie can hear the blood rushing in his ears.
“Archie….” Veronica steps forward, until they’re nearly chest to chest. She looks up at him. “We’ve been through so much worse than this. Why do we have to fight now?”
So much worse than this . It’s almost unbelievable to Archie, sometimes, just how true that is. He wonders why he even bothers getting upset over anything Hiram Lodge does anymore. At least he isn’t being framed for murder or waking up to his house on fire.
He feels Veronica trace a hand down his arm. Her touch relaxes him a little, makes him start to forget his anger. It always seems to have that effect on him, regardless of whatever else is going on between them.
“I just don’t understand why they’re still trying to get rid of me. Both your father and….him,” Archie tells her, his voice losing the accusatory tone. He just feels tired now. Tired of fighting, of running from their demons, of loving her and wondering if that’s still enough.
“It’s not about you,” Veronica replies with a shake of her head. “It’s never been about you. It’s about me. They never want to see me succeed.”
It’s about me.
Archie wants to say, Maybe that’s the problem. He wants them to stop having the same conversation over and over again, wants to find a solution that will finally stop this cycle and let them stand still. He wants to do those things, but he also doesn’t want to fight anymore.
She pulls his face down to kiss him and he lets her, replacing his feelings of unease with the feeling of her hands on his skin.
~~~
When Veronica sees Archie again, she sees a way out.
She’s always hated admitting when she’s made a mistake. It’s at least part of the reason she’d ended up here, she supposes, trapped in this warped facsimile of a perfect life. She’d felt like she could deal with it, at first. No need to ruin everything, upset the balance. Her mother had managed to do it for years, after all, a bad husband hardly stopping her from achieving her goals.
But the longer her marriage lasts, the less Veronica is able to pretend. Being around Chad is like walking on eggshells, their relationship a ticking time bomb.
The teaching position in Riverdale is an excuse to get away for a while, a welcome reprieve from the life that feels like it's suffocating her. Strange how the town she used to be so desperate to escape from is now the one place offering her a solution.
Despite her father’s best efforts to push the town into a state of disrepair, the things Veronica cares about are still the same. The sort of things she associates with her teen years, at least the parts of them that weren’t taken up by murder and mayhem. Pop’s is still a brightly lit beacon in the night, the hallways of the high school are still the same shade of green.
Most importantly, Archie is still the same all-American boy.
And now he’s hers again, just as he had been all those years ago. She knows Chad will still be a thorn in her side, at least for a while, but Archie is a safe distraction, a constant amid the chaos.
He greets her with a kiss when she returns from her latest trip to the city. “Hey, Ronnie,” he says, the corners of his mouth turning up once she pulls away.
“Hey.” Veronica’s relieved to hear that his voice is even, no trace of tension carrying over from the few short phone calls they’d had while she was away. She feels a small stab of guilt in her chest as he leads her into the house, wondering if she should tell him that she hadn’t been staying with Katy in the city, after all. She wonders if she needs to tell him that she’d been with Chad, in more ways than one.
Archie gestures for her to take a seat in the kitchen, opening the fridge to grab them drinks, and Veronica decides that she can’t do it. He looks happy. He looks normal .
Besides, Chad is still her husband, technically, and it isn’t going to happen ever again.
“Everything all good in the city?” Archie asks, an all encompassing question Veronica knows is on purpose.
“Yeah. Yeah it is, actually.” She clears her throat. “What did I miss here?”
They talk until Veronica finds herself yawning, her eyes growing heavy. It’s been a while since she's had a good sleep, she realizes. She’s grateful to settle in next to Archie, to feel his arms around her.
She’s jolted awake in the middle of the night by a shout.
Veronica sits up, grabbing in the dark for Archie’s arm, and finds him drenched in his sweat. He jerks abruptly in his sleep, mumbling, “No, no-"
“Archie!” Veronica shakes his shoulder. “Wake up.”
Archie blinks and startles, hand coming up to grip the one she has on his arm. “Veronica? I….” He pinches his brow. “I’m sorry for waking you.”
She shakes her head. “Don’t apologize. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Just a bad dream."
Veronica frowns. "I didn’t realize…..Do those happen a lot?”
He sighs. “Only sometimes.”
“Do you want to talk about it?" she asks. She grips his hand, trying to catch his eye, but he doesn't look at her.
“You wouldn’t understand,” he says, and there’s no scorn in the words, only sadness.
“Archie, I want to help." She knows he’s right, knows nothing she’s been through can possibly compare to the things he’s seen, but she still wants to make it better. “You can talk to me about anything.”
Archie sits up, hand running through his hair. “That’s the thing, Ronnie. I can’t. I don’t need you to- I don’t need you to worry about me. I’m fine.”
“Clearly you-”
“Veronica. I’m okay,” he says, more firmly.
Veronica is quiet for a moment. She wants to push, wants to know , but she also doesn’t want to upset the easy rapport they have between them right now. Pressing further feels like a risk.
“Okay,” she tells him, and he nods.
“I need some air, I think I’m gonna go for a jog.” Archie stands, slipping on shorts and grabbing his phone. “Be back in a bit.”
She watches him head for the door, sees him pause by his window for a moment and glance down at his phone. He shakes his head, almost imperceptibly, and then he’s hurrying down the stairs.
Veronica’s not sure how long she lies awake after that, noticing for the first time just how dark his bedroom seems.
~~~
“Have you been feeling any better lately?” Kevin asks.
Betty sighs, stirring her milkshake with her straw. She knows Kevin is her best friend, knows she can trust him, but sometimes she wonders if it was a mistake to open up to him about her nightmares. It makes her feel silly, being unable to shake things that happened to her years ago.
“Not really, to be honest,” she tells him. “I don’t get it. I don’t understand why they’re still happening.”
Kevin’s brow furrows. “I know I’ve mentioned this before, but do you think maybe you should….talk to someone?”
Betty bristles. “I do talk to someone. Jug’s been through some tough things, too. It feels like he understands.” She tries not to let it bother her that he’s never gotten specific about his own trauma. All that matters is that it’s something they have in common, their own unique forms of darkness haunting them. Betty doesn’t think anyone else would understand, could understand.
“Jughead is your fiancé, Betty, not a therapist,” Kevin says.
“I know that, Kev.”
She sees Kevin bite his lip, but he doesn’t push the subject further. “Speaking of your fiancé , have you picked a date for the wedding yet?”
Betty’s not sure why the question makes goosebumps rise on her skin. “No. We haven’t really talked about it at all.”
“Well, let me know as soon as you do. I’ve gotta be honest, Archie and Veronica let me down with their little wholesome-smalltown-wedding schtick,” Kevin says, shaking his head.
“It was because it’s her second marriage, I guess,” Betty replies with a shrug.
“More reason to celebrate, if you ask me. Anyway, yours will be the Riverdale wedding to end all weddings, if I have anything to do with it.” He raises his eyebrows at her. “And of course, your bachelorette party will be legendary.”
Betty gives him a thin smile. “Can’t wait.”
~~~
There are a lot of things Jughead doesn’t understand.
He doesn’t understand how the coffee machine in the tiny apartment he’s renting works. He doesn’t understand how he’s supposed to keep renting the apartment if he still can’t find a job. He doesn’t understand why he even bothered going to university for writing, if he was just going to end up at this dead end.
Most of all, he doesn’t understand why none of his friends ever call to check in.
It’s exactly four years to the day, today, since the night at Pop’s that severed his final tie to them. Jughead tries and fails every year to block it out of his memory.
He just wants to forget . About all of them, but especially her .
That’s probably why he ends up at the bar down the street, knocking back drinks faster than the bartender can make them.
It’s also how he ends up with a stranger in his bed the next morning, shaking him awake.
“Jughead?” a voice says. His eyes feel like they’re glued shut, his mouth dry. “You need to wake up.”
Blinking against the sun coming in from his window, he manages to prop himself up a little. “What….?”
The girl beside him is wearing nothing but a bed sheet and a concerned expression. He tries to recall her name. Jasmine, Juliana….?
Jessica.
She exhales when she sees him open his eyes. “Thank God. I could barely tell if you were breathing. You went pretty hard last night.”
“I….don’t remember much.”
“Well, I woke up in the middle of the night to you yelling at someone on the phone. Seemed serious.”
“Why would I….” Jughead trails off, his blood running cold. “Oh God. No, no, no.” He grapples blindly for the phone on his bedside table, swiping to his recent calls.
Of course, there it is:
Betty Cooper.
He groans, falling back against the pillows.
“Wanna talk about it?” Jessica asks, like they’re friends or something.
“No,” Jughead says with a scowl. She gives him a curious look, and he sighs. “Normally I’d write to get my mind off things. That hasn’t been happening much though, lately.”
Jessica bites her lip. “There are fixes for that, you know. I could hook you up. Give you something for....inspiration.”
Jughead knows he should say no, but he’s also broke and uninspired and anything would be better than wallowing like this, so he says yes.
When she comes over again and they take the drugs, it seems to happen in an instant. One moment he’s sitting in front of his laptop, the room spinning with colors and noise, echoes of Jessica’s laughter. The next he’s waking up from it, five chapters of a novel written. He flips through the pages, seeing the words as if for the very first time.
This is the story of a town, or rather, the people who live in the town. The story of a viper and a homecoming queen, torn apart by their circumstances.
He knows they’re him and Betty, or they’re supposed to be. They’re the versions of them that exist in his head, apparently; the product of his subconscious. They remind him of who he thought they could be, when they first got together and everything was new. Now he knows better than to think it was ever really train tracks or gangs keeping them apart.
The chapters are still promising, though, so he asks Jessica for more drugs.
It’s not as if he has anything to lose.
~~~
The lights inside the diner are too bright, and Betty’s milkshake is warm.
She’s not used to feeling out of place like this at Pop’s. It’s normally the most familiar part of the town, but with the crowd of journalists and Jughead’s author friends currently occupying it, Betty feels like a stranger stopping in off the highway.
“What is it like to be the muse of such a celebrated writer?”
She blinks. “Sorry?”
“I mean, it must feel pretty great to be the inspiration for a critically acclaimed novel,” the journalist sitting across from her says.
“Um, they’re not really about me specifically. The books.” Betty can feel a headache building, a dull throb between her eyes.
She’s not sure why she agreed to this interview. It’s not as if the press people actually care what she, Betty Cooper, has to say. They only want to talk to the girlfriend-of-bestselling-author-Jughead-Jones version of her.
The journalist furrows his brow, looking at Betty over his glasses. “Then who is this fabled ‘homecoming-queen-turned-CIA-agent’ character? Jones says he drew inspiration from his life.”
It had been Jughead’s publicist’s idea to hold the release party for his new novel, the sequel to The Outcasts , at Pop’s. A glimpse into the gritty reality that inspired it all, Betty had overheard him tell Jughead on the phone.
“I think there’s some inspiration, probably,” Betty says, doing her best not to sound as bored as she is. “Not all of it’s the real story, though."
He shrugs. “Seemed pretty real to me. So detailed.” Betty watches him squint a little, tapping his pen against the notepad he’d been writing on. “I especially loved the side plot about the CIA agent getting kidnapped while on a mission.”
Betty clears her throat, trying to ignore the chill that creeps down her spine. “Sorry, if you’ll excuse me.” She slides out of the booth and heads toward the diner’s entrance, needing to be somewhere else, anywhere else.
Her fingers are almost on the door handle when she hears someone clink a glass.
She looks to her right to find Jughead standing on top of a table, a semi-circle of people gathered in front of him. Betty notices him wobble a little as he raises his drink and silently prays there’s nothing harder than root beer in his cup.
“Thank you all for coming tonight,” Jughead says with a wide grin. “I have so many people to thank, so many people who helped me get to this point.” He pauses. “But there’s one person in particular without whom these novels would not exist.”
Betty sucks in a breath as Jughead’s eyes fall on her. He hops down from the tabletop, and she winces as he stumbles before righting himself.
“My girlfriend, Betty Cooper. My partner, my inspiration, my muse,” he says.
Betty feels her cheeks start to burn. “Jug….” she murmurs as he reaches her side and takes one of her hands in both of his.
His grin is wide, eyes glassy. “Betty Cooper. My girlfriend, but hopefully now my wife.”
Several people gasp, and Betty sees a reporter raise his camera. She watches in slow motion as Jughead gets down on one knee in front of her, reaching into his coat pocket.
“Betty, will you marry me?”
The question means everything and nothing at the same time. It’s too much too soon and yet also it isn’t, because she's always known they would end up here, one way or another.
She twists her expression into a smile. “Yes, Jug. I’ll marry you.”
~~~
Archie doesn’t plan to propose to Veronica this way.
He originally wants to take her to Pop's for dinner, a reminder of their first meeting. It’s cheesy and they go there all the time anyway, he knows, but it seems like the right thing to do. Then he wants to take her home, back to his house, and propose to her on his porch. He imagines slipping on her ring and kissing her under the porch light, like he’s done a hundred times before.
In the end, he doesn’t get to do any of that.
Veronica texts him and says she’ll be back in Riverdale late, too late for dinner. She’s caught up with a business thing, she says, and she also has to “visit her old penthouse” which Archie knows really means she has to clear something up with Chad. It’s the third time she’s cancelled on him in the last two weeks.
Archie doesn’t understand why she isn’t making time for this. She’s the one who started hinting at marriage in the first place, sighing at dresses in windows and informing him about the engagements of her friends from the city. She’s even gone so far as to pick out her own engagement ring, something flashy from her jewelry store. Archie knows she has everything planned out already, the proposal another bullet point on a list for her to check off, so he wishes she would be here for it.
He decides to grab dinner at Pop’s anyway, figuring he might as well follow through with at least one aspect of the original plan. As he sits in their usual booth with a plate of fries in front of him, he feels the weight of the ring box still in his coat pocket. He pulls it out and turns it over between his fingers, willing the fuzzy feeling in his head to go away.
“Arch?”
Archie blinks, looking up to see Betty standing beside his booth. She’s wearing a long coat, Pop’s to-go bag in her hand.
“Is everything okay?” she asks. Her eyes are wide with genuine concern.
How can she always tell when something’s wrong? Archie thinks. I’m just sitting here .
“Yeah, I- Everything’s fine.” He hesitates. “You can sit, if you want. Unless you have to go-”
She shakes her head, sliding into the seat across from him. “This is definitely better than eating in my bedroom alone.”
A memory jolts through him. Betty, lounging across his bed in just her FBI t-shirt, eating fries that had long since gone cold while the two of them were otherwise occupied. Archie shivers.
He watches as Betty’s eyes fall on the ring box. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Oh, that’s just, it’s-” Archie hurries to put the box back in his pocket. He doesn’t know why it feels so strange to share this with her. “I’m….proposing to Veronica tonight. Or I was going to, but she’s coming home late.”
Betty’s face breaks into a smile, and he thinks it reaches her eyes. “That’s great, Arch. I’m happy for you.”
“I just hope it’s the right time. I don’t want to screw it up.”
She tilts her head in that way she always does, biting her lip. “I don’t think there’s any way you could screw it up. The two of you are meant to be together; Veronica knows that.”
Archie feels himself nodding, even as the knot in his stomach seems to twist further. “I know, I just….wanted it to be perfect. That probably sounds stupid.”
Betty reaches across the table, her hand covering one of his. The gesture is natural, a reflex. “It doesn’t need to be perfect. Just do what feels right to you.”
Archie meets her eyes, her encouraging smile beginning to ease the tension in his chest. He feels more centered now, at least a little. Betty’s always had that effect on him.
“Okay,” he says. “Yeah. You’re right.”
Veronica shows up on his porch just after midnight with an apologetic smile and a box of cupcakes from Magnolia. “Archiekins,” she says in greeting. He responds by kissing her and pulling her inside, not wanting to talk, not wanting to do anything but focus on the fact that she’s finally here and that’s good .
As he lays with Veronica curled into his side, Archie wonders if he should just say it. It’s not a grand romantic gesture, and he’s not sure if the timing is exactly right, but it doesn’t feel wrong, either.
It’s what Betty thinks he should do.
“Marry me,” he murmurs, grappling for the ring box on his bedside table. There are no fireworks, no big speeches or declarations. Just the question hanging between them, a final loose end.
Veronica says “Yes,” doing an impeccable job of pretending she’s never seen the ring before, and just like that they’re tied together.
~~~
The day he marries Betty, Jughead feels relieved.
This is it, he thinks. They’ll be tied together in a way that’s stronger than any of the ghosts from their past, stronger than the flashbacks that plague him. They won’t be ripped apart by betrayals or unspoken words or any of the things that used to matter. He feels a sense of pride, almost, that they made it here.
He knows Betty had wanted a big wedding. The fancy dress, a tiered cake, string lights. It’s what she’s always wanted, but the closer they’d gotten to their chosen date, the less enthused she’d seemed to be about it all.
“It just feels like we waited so long,” she’d told him. “And I know it’s not what you want. I don’t want to make this a big deal just for my sake."
Jughead had just bitten his lip, unable to disagree with her. The idea of spending all that money for a big party with a bunch of people who are practically strangers had always made his head hurt. “Okay. Sounds fine to me.”
He’d pretended not to overhear her phone call with Kevin after that conversation.
“Are you sure about this, Betty? You don’t have to give it all up, I’m sure you can compromise.”
Betty had sighed. “It doesn’t feel fun anymore, Kev. All this planning, the stress…..it’s not worth it. Jughead doesn’t care, and honestly neither do I.”
“You sound awfully excited to be getting married.” Kevin’s reply was sarcastic.
“It’s fine,” Betty had said. “It’ll be fine.”
Now, Jughead stands outside the town courthouse, feeling accomplished with their marriage license in one hand and Betty’s hand in the other. She’s standing next to him, wearing a short white dress with her hair pinned half up.
She looks pretty, he thinks. A homecoming queen, regardless of whether or not she’s wearing a fancy gown.
“So. We did it.” He gives her a small smile.
“We did,” Betty replies. Jughead watches as she lifts her hand to admire the ring, the sun glinting off of it a little. They’re waiting on the courthouse steps for her mother’s car to pull around. “Never thought I’d be nearly thirty and waiting for my mom to pick me up from my wedding.”
“It’s almost like high school, isn’t it?” Jughead remarks. “Like the first dance we went to together.” It feels like nothing’s changed, and it reassures him. Switch out the dress and the color of the steps they're standing on and they’d be right back in their best years.
He looks over at Betty, sees her swallow.
“Yes,” she says. “Exactly the same.”
~~~
Veronica’s imagined the end of her relationship with Archie more than she cares to admit.
She knows it isn’t normal, probably, for her mind to skip to the end when they’re only supposed to be at the beginning. It should still be exciting. It was exciting, for the first year. Now she can’t seem to shake the visions that appear every time she closes her eyes, a film reel of sepia-toned years that fade more and more the longer she watches.
It was supposed to be different this time. The solution to her Chad problem had seemed easy, her mistake obvious. If she’d only waited a little longer in the first place, been less hasty to reach a milestone, she could’ve swapped them out. An all-American beau instead of an Upper East Side wolf.
She’d gotten what she wanted in the end, but the sweet sensation of vindication had never come.
“Penny for your thoughts, mija?” Hiram says, giving her a smile that shows all his teeth.
Veronica scowls. She’s already regretting agreeing to meet him for lunch. “Everything’s fine, Daddy,” she replies, voice clipped. Her phone buzzes then, lighting up with Archie’s name, and she declines the call quickly.
He notices, of course. “How have things been with Archie lately? Trouble in paradise?”
“I said everything’s fine,” she replies. “No thanks to you.” Understatement of the year.
Everything isn’t actually fine, and she suspects he knows that, but both of them are well aware she won’t admit it. The truth is that her father isn’t completely the root of all her problems with Archie, as much as she’d love to make him the villain. Not that she’ll ever dream of telling him that.
Hiram pretends to look deep in thought, taking a sip of his drink. “It’s admirable, really, the way you’ve managed to stick by his side. He can’t be of much use to you anymore, besides of course filling the role of your trophy husband.”
“Archie’s not-” Veronica takes a deep breath, closing her eyes. “Why do you still care about this?”
“I’m just saying, mija. It might be time to give up your little charade and admit I’ve always been right about him.”
It’s the last straw for her. Veronica stands, grabbing her purse from the back of her chair. She’s sick of dealing with him, sick of using her relationship to try and prove some sort of point. It doesn’t matter if he thinks he’s won, she realizes. It doesn’t matter at all.
“Don’t get it twisted, Daddy,” she tells him with a glare. “No matter what happens with Archie and me, it’ll never have anything to do with you. Every decision I make is for me.”
~~~
Cheryl Blossom catches them in the closet at her 29th birthday party.
It starts with one of her ridiculous ideas: a game of spin the bottle to “relive the chaos of their youth.”
Archie sees Betty stiffen at the suggestion, swallowing. “Do we really need to do this again?” she says to Cheryl. “We’re almost thirty."
“Exactly my point, cousin,” Cheryl shoots back, eyebrows raised. “This is the last year before we’re all certifiably geriatric, and therefore the last year we can take advantage of such opportunities. So humor me.”
Betty sighs, shaking her head as she leans forward to spin the bottle. Archie wipes his sweaty palms on his thighs, willing it not to land on him. He shouldn’t even be here, he thinks, should never have agreed to come.
The bottle lands on him, because of course it does.
Cheryl smirks. “How fitting.”
Archie slowly looks at Betty, whose cheeks are bright red. “I don’t think that we-” she starts.
Jughead interrupts from next to her, swaying in his seat. “S’fine Betty. I don’t mind. Really. Nothing to worry about.” Archie watches him raise his full glass and down the contents in one gulp.
Betty’s chewing on her lip. “Jug….”
Archie clears his throat as he stands. He just wants to get out of here, wants to make all their friends stop staring. “Let’s just go,” he says. Lowering his voice, he adds. “It’s not like we actually have to do anything.”
Betty’s expression softens, and she nods. “Okay. Yeah, okay.”
“Booooring,” Cheryl calls as the closet door shuts, leaving them in near darkness.
The silence stretches on for a moment. Archie can faintly hear Cheryl talking outside, choosing the next victims for her game.
“God,” Betty says. “I can’t believe this is happening again.”
She sounds flustered, Archie thinks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to feel like you had to-”
“No, no, that’s not,” He hears her sigh. “I don’t….mind.”
Archie isn’t sure how to respond. “Oh. Good.”
A beat of silence. “No Veronica tonight?”
“No.” Archie feels an unpleasant twinge in his stomach. “She’s in the city for….business.” Or something like that.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Betty takes a step forward, feet shuffling. “I’m not sure why I came tonight,” she says. Her voice is soft, almost a whisper. “Jug didn’t want to.”
“Me neither,” Archie admits. “Feels like we should know better at this point."
The floorboards creak as Betty takes another step, and Archie takes a step forward, too. The coat hangers were digging into his back, he reasons. “This isn’t so bad, though,” Betty says. He feels the light touch of her fingertips, then, running down his sleeve. She’s too close, the closet too small.
Archie’s not sure which one of them moves first. One moment their lips aren’t touching and the next they are, as if gravity just happened to pull them together, two magnets clicking into place. He forgets how to think as Betty curls one hand into his hair, the other cupping his jaw.
She’s pressed into the rack of coats, Archie’s mouth on her throat, when the closet door swings open.
“Well, well, well. This is a surprise.”
Archie immediately lets go of Betty, whirling around to find Cheryl standing there, holding the door open with one heel. He can’t see anyone else behind her, and he prays the rest of their friends have already dispersed throughout the house.
“Cheryl….” Betty begins, her face white as paper.
Cheryl rolls her eyes. “Relax, cousin. I’ll keep this ill-advised dalliance under wraps. Though I’m sure you could shove your tongue down Archie’s throat right in front of dear Jughead and he would still grovel for your love.” She turns her gaze to Archie, lip curling. “And as for Veronica, well….” Cheryl just hums with distaste, taking a sip of the drink in her hand. “She’s always been the forgiving type.”
“This isn’t….It’s not what it looks like,” Archie says weakly.
“Save it, Archie,” Cheryl says. “I have no interest in destroying either of your precious endgames. Though I do appreciate the two of you supplying some excitement to spice up this soirée.” The smile she gives them is sickly sweet. “I’ll leave the two of you to finish….whatever this is.”
She leaves them standing there in the doorway, right on the threshold.
Archie risks a glance at Betty. Her eyes are wide, chest rising and falling heavily. “Betty-”
She shakes her head. “It’s fine. We don’t need to talk about it.”
Archie opens his mouth to protest and then closes it again. He knows she means it, knows she won’t so much as allude to this night ever again. It’s the only thing to do, he knows, the only way anything can possibly work.
Some things never change, no matter how old they get.
~~~
Jughead looks at Tabitha, knowing what she’s going to say before she says it.
“I can’t do this anymore,” she tells him. “It’s gone on too long.”
They’re sitting on the couch in her apartment, the warm light from the living room lamp a stark contrast to the coldness in her voice. He isn’t used to seeing her like this. He’s used to her bright smile, the soothing timbre of her laugh. Tabitha might be the last truly good person left in this town, Jughead thinks, and the way she’s looking at him now makes his face burn with shame.
“I thought that we, the two of us dating….I thought it could work,” she says. “I wanted to help you because I-” She breaks off, eyes falling to her lap. “Because I care about you. I still care, Jughead, but we can’t keep going in circles.”
Jughead sees her deflate a little, and he seizes the opportunity. “Tabitha, listen. I can make it stop. The drinking, the drugs, I-”
“You did make it stop. Everything was so good for a while, and then you got writer’s block again, like you always do. There are a lot of things you still haven’t let go of.”
He sputters, trying to form an answer. “I- I got past all of that, like I told you. I can make all of this stop, I just needed some....help.” The excuse sounds pathetic and he knows it.
Tabitha shakes her head. “You didn’t get past her , Jughead. You’re still hung up on Betty, and I don’t know if it’s love, or obsession or some crazy grudge, but I can’t be wrapped up in it anymore. Clearly being with me isn’t enough to make you happy.”
“That’s not true. You make me so happy, Tabitha,” he tells her. It’s the truth. He can’t remember the last time he felt the way he does when he’s around her, wonders if he’s ever felt this way. She’s a light to balance out his darkness, a beacon in the night.
And now he’s going to lose her, because of Betty .
Jughead doesn’t love Betty, or at least he doesn’t want to love Betty. He even hates her a little, he thinks, hates the power she holds over him and the way she can ruin everything without even being in the room.
Tabitha’s gaze is sad when her eyes meet his. “Sometimes I wonder if happiness is really what you want,” she says. “And if it is, you’re never going to find it until you believe it’s what you deserve.”
He scowls. “What is that supposed to mean?”
She fixes him with a serious look. “A relationship should never feel like a punishment. Remember that.”
~~~
Veronica doesn’t expect to run into Jughead like this.
She’s in town on business, dropping by Riverdale High to present a seminar to a few of the economics classes as a favor to Toni. It’s a little strange to be back, strange to remember how different everything had been the first time she and her friends accepted teaching positions. They’ve all moved on by now, she’s sure.
Veronica’s waiting in the teacher’s lounge before her first class, filling herself a cup of weak coffee, when she hears someone else shuffle into the room. She looks toward the doorway and does a double take, abandoning her coffee on the counter.
“Jughead?"
He glances over and blinks. “Veronica? What are you doing here?”
“I told Toni I was in town and she thought some of the classes might like to have me as a guest speaker. What are you doing here?"
“I’m teaching English again,” he says, sounding less than enthusiastic about it.
“Oh.” Veronica has questions, but she’s not sure what would be appropriate. They’re hardly acquaintances, much less friends. “I thought you’d gone back to writing full time.”
Jughead shakes his head. “I had to take a break from it. Hard to find anything meaningful to write about with divorce papers sitting on my desk.”
Veronica raises her eyebrows in surprise. “Wait. You and Betty….?”
“You didn’t know?”
“No. I’m sorry to hear that,” she tells him. She feels a familiar pinch in her chest, the kind of pain she knows is unique to this subject.
“Well, it’s pretty recent.” Jughead shuffles the papers in his hands. “Sorry, you definitely don’t care about this. I’ll just-”
“No, no, it’s okay,” she says, stopping him before he can brush past her. “I understand. Probably better than anyone, actually.”
His laugh is dry. “Yeah. You’re right about that.”
“I really am sorry. I always thought the two of you were good together.”
“I didn’t,” he replies. Noticing her curious expression, he sighs. “At least toward the end. It feels like I always should’ve known, you know?”
Veronica nods. “Yeah. I do.”
Jughead pauses for a moment. “Do you think any of it was worth it?”
“I’m not sure,” she says honestly. “I like to believe it was.”
~~~
Archie is a terrible liar and he knows it.
It’s why he came clean to Veronica about what happened with Betty all those years ago, and it’s why he’s being honest with her now. He hates lying, hates that guilty feeling that makes his throat tighten and his palms sweat. He hates that he did this in the first place, hates that he’s putting the final nail in the coffin of their already fragile relationship.
“Ronnie, there’s something I have to tell you.”
Veronica is sitting across from him at the dinner table, picking at her food. Her eyes flick up from her plate. “Oh?” she says. She doesn’t sound worried or scared, he thinks. Just tired.
“I- It was at Cheryl’s birthday party. The one you couldn’t come to.”
Veronica hums, raising her eyebrows. Archie watches as she sits back and takes a sip of her drink. “Just tell me what happened.”
“It was….It was me and Betty.” The sense of déjà vu is overwhelming. “We kissed.”
He expects her face to fall, expects her to be upset with him, or at least ask why and how . He expects something .
Instead, she nods once and stands up.
“Veronica?” he asks. “Talk to me. Please.”
“What is there to say, Archie? It seems pretty clear to me.”
He frowns. “Don’t you- You don’t think we should talk about this?”
“Why should we start talking now? It’s not like it matters at this point, anyway.” She says the words in a matter-of-the-fact tone, looking at him with an even gaze.
Archie knows she’s right, just like how he knows this is the end. For real this time.
Veronica walks over to a nearby drawer, pulling some kind of folder out of it. When she turns back around, Archie can make out one single tear trailing down her cheek. Just one tear for what should've been a lifetime of years together.
Their time together wasn’t all bad, he thinks. Most of it wasn’t, actually.
“I’m sorry,” Archie says.
“Me too.” Veronica takes out several pages and sets them down on the table in front of him.
She’s already filled out the paperwork.
~~~
Betty asks Archie to meet her for lunch for the first time in years.
She can do that now, spend time with Archie without worrying about the implications. She doesn’t have to look over her shoulder, doesn’t have to carry the weight of secrets or unspoken words. She can just do it .
When she walks into Pop’s and spots Tabitha behind the counter, Betty finds herself smiling.
“Betty! Hey,” Tabitha says, pulling some menus out. “How are you?”
Her expression is kind, non-judgmental, even though Betty’s sure she knows what’s been going on. “I’m fine, actually,” Betty tells her, and she means it.
“I’m glad,” Tabitha replies, waving for Betty to sit wherever she likes.
Betty pauses for a moment. She knows it might sound strange to ask, but she wants to know. “Have you….Have you seen Jughead recently?”
Tabitha bites her lip, smile faltering. “Yes, actually. Is there something wrong, or-”
“No! No,” Betty interjects. “I was hoping that was the case. He needs someone like you.”
“Oh.” Tabitha looks surprised. “Yeah, I’ve been talking to him.”
Betty nods. “Good.”
She sits in her usual booth and waits for Archie to arrive, scrolling through her phone absently. They’d texted earlier to confirm a time to meet, Archie ending the conversation with: Can’t wait :). Reading the two words makes something flutter in Betty’s chest, even though she’s aware of how silly that seems. She’s an adult ; she shouldn’t still be analyzing every word from her teenage crush.
Betty knows Archie is more than that, though. She thinks maybe she’s always known.
He walks into the diner confidently, his face breaking into a slow grin when he spots Betty. Her stomach flips, the back of her throat burning.
“Hi Arch,” she manages to say as he sits down.
“Hey, Betty.”
She’s afraid it might be awkward, afraid it’s been too long since they talked, really talked. It feels like there’s both too much and too little to say.
But Archie only smiles and raises his eyebrows. “Vanilla milkshake?” he asks.
Betty relaxes. “Yeah. Of course.”
They order, Tabitha giving Betty a discreet wink as she walks away from their table, and Betty notices a familiar look on Archie’s face. He wants to say something, she can tell. His lips are pursed, his brow slightly furrowed.
“What is it, Arch?”
He blinks. “Hmm?"
“Is something bothering you?” Betty asks.
“Oh, no, it’s nothing, I just,” Archie sighs. “I just wanted to ask how you’ve….been doing? With everything.”
He looks nervous, his cheeks gaining a red flush, and affection blooms in Betty’s chest. “You’re allowed to ask me about my life,” she tells him. “It’s kind of why we’re here, right? Elephant in the room.”
Archie clears his throat. “Right. Yeah.”
Their milkshakes arrive, and Betty immediately pulls her straw between her teeth, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. “It’s been….hard,” she says. “It doesn’t feel as fresh anymore, though. And it was for the best.” It’s been a few weeks since she and Jughead signed the papers, a few weeks since the worst of it. Betty’s finally stopped waking up every morning feeling like she’s failed, which she supposes is something. The guilt that used to claw at her heart has faded to a dull ache.
“I get it,” Archie replies, and Betty knows he does. “I’m sorry, Betty. Can’t say I ever imagined myself ending up here, let alone both of us.”
“I’ll be okay.” Betty pauses, looking at him intently. “Remember when we were little and we used to play pirates? You would talk about stealing a ship and running away, escaping the town to go somewhere exciting.”
Archie laughs. “Yeah. I remember.”
“Maybe we should’ve done that.”
“Sailed a boat down Sweetwater River?” Archie asks, and Betty rolls her eyes at him.
“I mean maybe we should’ve gotten away from here, and stayed away. Maybe things would’ve turned out differently, turned out better.”
“I don’t know, I still like some things about this town. I like you.” Archie says the words casually, surely he doesn’t mean anything by them, but Betty still feels the blood rush to her cheeks. She becomes interested in stirring her milkshakes, avoiding his eyes.
“Betty, why did we stop doing this?” he asks.
“Doing what?”
“Hanging out, I guess. Being….friends.”
Betty frowns. “We’ve always been friends.” She notices Archie’s sigh, and she knows that’s not entirely true. They haven’t been friends, real friends, for a long time.
“I missed you,” he says. “And I know that’s mostly my own fault. I don’t want it to happen again; I want to be here for you.”
Betty can hear her heartbeat in her ears. “Arch.”
“I want to be your friend again, if that’s what you need. And I can give you time, as much as you want, but…I’ve been thinking, Betty. About you and me.”
I’ve been thinking....About us, Archie.
It has to mean something, Betty thinks, that they’ve ended up here again. They’re sitting in the exact same peeling vinyl seats, the same red glow illuminating Archie’s face.
Betty knows what she’s supposed to believe. Every tear over the years, every sleepless night, every illicit kiss, all of it is supposed to be confirmation that she and Archie are destined for failure. They’re just too different. It’s the mantra she’s always repeated, but it sounds hollow to her now.
She can’t think of a good reason why she shouldn’t want Archie just as he is, sitting in front of her with a question in his eyes. He’s still her best friend, somehow, despite everything, and she thinks that just might be enough. Maybe the two of them have never really been the problem.
Betty’s always been so convinced they could never work, but she wonders if maybe the rest of the world just hadn’t wanted them to.