Chapter 49 Honey
HONEY
All week, I’m a basket case. On Monday, I trip on some stairs and cut my knee. On Tuesday, a pen explodes in my bag and gets ink all over a stack of essays. On Wednesday, I bump into a student while I’m carrying my lunch and spill hot soup all over myself.
But Thursday’s flat tire makes me wonder if my bad luck is a sign.
If I can’t drive to the airfield, how can I get on Ian’s private plane? Will he come after me if I don’t show up?
I’m in the middle of a mental breakdown Thursday night when I finally give in and read Beau’s slew of texts.
I’m so sorry about all of this.
Please know I never meant to hurt you. You mean the world to me.
I miss you so fucking much, Honey.
We got the paternity test done. We’ll get the results next week. I hope you can wait that long to find out.
I’m going out of my damn mind, wondering if this is my kid.
The only silver lining is the doctor told us conception dates aren’t reliable. Mel won’t tell me who else she was seeing, but I know there’s someone else.
If the kid is mine, I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this—raise a child with a woman I’m not sure I even like as a friend.
My throat tightens as I read his messages, and I finally get the guts to respond.
You’re a good man, Beau. You’ll find a way to do this.
With the back of my hand, I wipe my face.
If this baby is yours, you’ll be an amazing father.
I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you this week. I have some bad news myself.
My family might be in some serious debt with Ian, which is why my father insists I marry him.
Ian wants me to fly out to Vegas to talk to him and my dad tomorrow after school. I’m not sure I have a choice. My brothers have offered to come with me, to protect me if Ian’s pressuring me to do something I don’t want to.
If you have any advice, I’d love to hear it.
I stare at my phone for a long time, but he never responds.
That’s fair. Because he probably feels like I blew him off all week.
I pace around my small apartment as I try to figure out what I’m going to do tomorrow. My suitcase sits unpacked.
I can’t do it. I won’t pack and pretend like I’m going on some fun vacation.
Some time around midnight, I text Cynthia.
If I go to Vegas, can they force me to marry this guy?
She responds within seconds.
Don’t move. I’m on my way.
The next morning, I’m in a daze.
Nora Jean raises her hand. “Miss Honey, are you okay? You look kinda out of it.”
Nodding, I force a smile. “I think I’m fighting something, but I’ll live.” Though the dread coiling in my stomach suggests otherwise. I still haven’t decided what I’m going to do tonight.
Maybe Cynthia is right and I should just hide out like I’m in the witness protection program. She showed up at one this morning with a wig and costume. I don’t know if she’s nuts for suggesting it, or if I’m nuts for considering it.
I still haven’t heard from Beau, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hurt.
I was hoping he’d say something to give me courage. Or make some wild declaration of love and tell me we should run away to get married.
But he’d never do that.
How could he when he’s possibly expecting a baby with another woman?
That thought nearly brings me to my knees. If this baby is his, I’m not sure I want to stay in Wild Heart. Because I won’t be able to handle seeing Beau and Mel walking around town with their child. Even if they’re not together.
Maybe… I need to let go of him. Maybe that would be best for everyone.
I wait for the tears, but they don’t come. Probably because I cried myself to exhaustion last weekend. Now I’m numb.
Closing my eyes, I rub my temple. I just need to get through the next few days.
If I go to Vegas, perhaps I can get the truth out of my father about our finances. If I look him straight in his eyes, hopefully I can tell if he’s being honest.
After class, I get to the office, drop my bag on the floor, and look around at my colleagues. Trish is yammering away about some committee. Laura is planning the Christmas party. And Adrian… Well, he looks stressed out. I’m almost glad I’m not the only one.
When the bell rings, I’m left with Trish, who pops her ass on my desk. “Did you hear? The cops are interviewing all of the newspaper kids.”
“Why?”
“Because Sheriff Reynolds thinks one of them is the arsonist.”
“That’s crazy.” I grab my water bottle and take a sip. Those kids are the first to volunteer to help.
“Is it? They’re always around after school. And they stand to benefit from all those juicy stories.”
She’s not wrong. “But that’s a lot to risk just to write an article.” Not to mention deranged.
“Oh, I almost forgot. The principal wants to talk to you again.” She gives me her crazy eyes. “Hey, maybe you’re the arsonist!”
This bitch is really getting on my nerves today. “Careful. There’s something called slander, and if you talk shit about me, you’ll regret it.” I don’t recognize myself right now. I sound like my brother, but Trish is pushing it. Maybe I’ve been spending too much time with Trig.
She throws up her arms. “I’m kidding. Jeez. Who peed on your Cheerios this morning?”
I don’t bother responding. When I get to the main office, a few of the newspaper kids are sitting in chairs outside. Through the window, I see Reynolds interviewing one of them.
Hmm.
I stop by the secretary’s desk. “Gladys, shouldn’t these students have their parents present if they’re being interrogated by a cop?” I say it loud enough that the kids hear. Keith, Sabrina, and their friends break out their phones and hopefully text their guardians.
Gladys nods. “Let me check on that.”
When the principal waves me in, anxiety coils in my chest when I see the proposal I gave her about the lot down the street. She wants an update, and I don’t have one.
So I’m surprised when she gives me a wide smile.
“I just spoke to your father, and he said he reconsidered his donation and that you two are working out the funding for the Turner property this weekend. I want you to know how excited I am about this. Just think, we could have one of the premier Harvester Clubs in the country.”
My stomach sinks when I realize what she’s saying. My father is using this to twist the screws. What an asshole. It’s next level for him to try to manipulate me like this. He’s supposed to have my back.
I clear my throat. “I’m just now hearing about this, but I hope we can work something out.”
“Keep me posted!”
For the rest of the day, it feels like lead weighs down my chest.
I guess I don’t have a choice.
I have to go to Vegas.