6. Chapter 6 #2
Ella nods, taking his hand and sliding out of the booth.
Reese clears his throat. “I’ll help. Last thing we need is Ella thinking Bailey Hill is peak music because of Chris.”
“You inspire one breakup album and suddenly it defines your whole personality forever,” Chris mutters, following them toward the jukebox.
As soon as they’re out of earshot, I turn back to Honey. “If you’re about to tell me Jonathan is—”
“He’s missing,” Honey cuts in quietly.
“Who? Zach?” I immediately check my phone, ready to open the locator app when Honey’s hand gently touches mine.
“No. Jamie.”
“Missing?” I croak out. I don’t know what to do. She’s touching me, which means she can feel my hand shaking. I’m sure of it.
“Yeah.”
“Oh.” I keep it short, knowing if I say anything further, I’m going to give it all away and tell her everything.
I’d love to talk to her about Jamie, but if I do, I’d have to admit I know exactly where he is.
Here.
“His father doesn’t know where he is?”
She shakes her head. “No, and they clearly must be desperate if they’re coming for me asking for answers. Why the hell would I know where their idiot of a son is?”
“Right.”
“Look, I’m sorry for springing this on you, but it’s just Jamie is a loose cannon at the best of times. I needed to warn you in case—”
“In case what?”
Her eyes darken, and she raises her brow.
“In case he comes here.” Honey looks away for a second, and I freeze. “Granted, it’s a long shot. I assume he’s probably somewhere in the South of France living it up with his best friend Thatcher, but I needed you to know so you’re prepared.”
“Prepared.” My gaze drifts over to Ella and the way she’s smiling at Reese while he does some stupid dance. “Right.”
Honey must see something in my expression because she rests her hand on my arm, drawing my attention back to her.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you, Tiff. There’s no way Jamie can take Ella without the police arresting him.
She’s yours, and I honestly don’t think he has any interest in claiming her.
You’ll be fine. Besides, Zach’s not going to let Jamie anywhere near you with that new Fort Knox style gate he bought. ”
But Jamie already got around that. How the hell did he get around that? If his father doesn’t know where he is, then why is he here?
Honey squeezes my arm again, softer this time. “Come on,” she says quietly. “You’re pale as a ghost. Let me drive you and Ella home. Chris and Reese can walk back to campus. It will be their cardio for the day.”
“I’m fine,” I lie automatically, though my pulse is still racing. “Really.”
Her brows lift. “Tiff. You’re shaking. I know you’re always trying to be strong for everyone, but you don’t always have to play the role of hero. You can back away.”
I swallow hard, the bitter taste of espresso still on my tongue. My mind is racing, trying to figure out what all of this means, but I know where the answers lie and it’s not in this diner.
It’s in that little pink envelope in my room.
“Okay,” I say finally. “Yeah. A ride would be good.”
Honey nods once, like she was expecting that. She straightens, raising her voice just enough to reach the jukebox. “Alright, boys—song’s over. Come on back.”
Chris picks up Ella, who’s still singing along to the song playing, as Reese trails behind.
I paste on a smile for Ella’s sake, but the whole time I’m gathering her coat and my bag, my stomach won’t stop twisting. Jamie’s apparently missing.
His family doesn’t know where he is, and yet somehow I do, and I have no idea what to do with that.
“Ella’s finally down,” I announce in a hushed voice as I pad into the kitchen where Zach is hunched over a Tupperware container like it owes him money.
Chicken, sweet potatoes, broccoli. Again.
The same sad, joyless meal he’s been forcing down his throat all week.
It shouldn’t make me sad, but it does. Ever since Honey asked for a break, meal prep’s become the new love of his life.
It’s strict, predictable, and stable. Basically, everything she’s not.
He grunts in acknowledgement, shoveling more of the food into his mouth, not looking up from his phone. I hope he’s looking through game footage and not pictures of him and Honey like last week.
“Good day?” he asks, finally glancing up. Exhaustion paints his face, and it’s not just from the faint bruise forming along his jawline. It’s his eyes. They’re empty, and although they’ve been that way for months, it hits me harder today, knowing how much better Honey’s taking it all.
“Yeah,” I say, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. “Studied for my GED while Ella was napping. Then we went to the diner and the park with—” I stop and wince, the words catching in my throat. I’m usually better at covering my tracks.
Zach's fork pauses halfway to his mouth, his eyes narrowing into little slits. “You saw Honey, didn't you?”
I can’t lie to him. Not when he outright asks like that. “Uh, yeah.”
“Was she with Chris?” His voice is flat, but I don't miss the white-knuckle grip on his fork as he closes his eyes, bracing for the impact.
Now is when I’d really like to change the subject. “Um…”
“Tiff, don't lie to me.”
I sigh. “Yes, but Reese was there too, so it wasn’t like it was a date or anything.”
“Date?” The food on his fork drops back into the bowl before he viciously stabs at the chicken. “Reese didn’t say a word? That’s my fucking teammate. He’s supposed to have my back, not sit quietly while Chris is all over Honey. Fuck me.”
“It wasn't like that,” I start, but who am I kidding? The only person who can’t see the way Chris looks at Honey is Honey herself.
She thinks they’re just friends. It’s obvious he wants more, but I don’t think that’s going to happen.
Honey and Zach—well, they’re destined to be together, they just need to figure out how.
“Whatever.” He shoves the food in his mouth, chewing with more force than necessary.
“I’ve already told you not to feel bad about seeing her.
” It would sound more truthful if there was less anger in his voice while saying it.
“Ella loves Honey, and she’s a huge part of your life here.
A part I’m not willing to take away from you.
” He swallows hard. “Ella doesn’t need to know there’s anything going on between Honey and me. ”
He stabs another piece of chicken, then looks up, his voice softening slightly. “And you need the support. You know that.”
I nod, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and guilt.
“Oh, and you need to call Madison,” he adds, changing the subject. “She's been texting me asking how you are, and she's not even my cousin.”
I laugh at her antics. “Maybe not, but she views you as cousin-adjacent.”
He raises a brow, unimpressed. “Last time she called, she complained for an hour about how Cade wouldn’t let her dress up his dog.”
I wince. “I’m sorry. I’ll make sure to call her.”
“You should,” he says pointedly.
“She was there for you when all the Jamie stuff happened,” Zach reminds me, his expression darkening at the mention of Jamie's name. “She just wants to help you.”
I want to help them through this the same way they’ve helped me, but equally, I don’t want to pry. Honey puts on a smile and acts like nothing is happening. She works with her father even though I know she hates it, all because she wants to help me.
Zach’s worse. He’s grumpy around everyone except Ella and has put so much focus into football that I’m worried he’s going to get injured before he can even start his career.
“Okay,” I say quietly, and the weight of all the unspoken words hangs between us. All the things I want to ask but know I don’t have the right to. What really happened between you and Honey? Why are you isolating yourself? Why won’t you just admit it’s over?
I clear my throat. “Speaking of Jamie—” I begin cautiously.
Zach's fork clatters against his container. “What about him?”
I take a deep breath. “What do you really think of him? Honestly?”
Zach gives a humorless laugh. “Honestly?
The only good thing about Jamie Nicks is Ella.
And that's only because she got your genes, not his.” He shakes his head.
“He's a rich boy who always gets what he wants.
He treated Honey like garbage. Actually, he treated everyone like garbage.
And the way he's treated my family?” His jaw tightens.
“That's not something I'm going to tolerate, Tiff. Not then, not now, not ever.”
I nod, taking in his words and hoping my expression doesn’t reveal anything.
“Why are you asking about him anyway?” Zach’s eyes narrow suspiciously.
“Uh, you know, I was just looking at the legal papers and thinking about what I should do.”
“What you should do is sign the papers, get the money, and get that asshole out of both of your lives before he can ruin it with his toxic excuse of a family. He doesn’t deserve any chance with Ella.”
I swallow, not knowing what to do. He’s right. I know he is after everything Jamie’s family has put me through, but that doesn’t mean the knot in my stomach stops twisting.
“But if I do that, what will I tell Ella when she asks in the future?”
“The truth. He doesn’t deserve you hiding what he did. Sure, he’s got more money than sense, but you’ve got something they can never have. Dignity and strength.”
I nod. Dignity and strength? Would he think that if he found out I’m lying to him?
Zach’s expression softens. “I’m sorry. I’m coming in hot tonight. Even if you accept the terms and the money, you’ll have a while to think about what you need to say to her. She’s not going to ask who Jamie is anytime soon.”
It could be sooner than you think.
I bite my bottom lip, keeping that thought to myself, and instead, change the subject. “You doing anything tonight?”
“Watching tape,” he answers. I should’ve known. Heaven forbid he watch a comedy, or go to Hail Mary’s with his team. Everything for my cousin these days is football, football, football.
When he clearly reads my expression, his shoulders slump. “The draft is in four months. I just need to focus on that right now. Everything else is—” He waves his hand dismissively. “Noise.”
“I get it.”
I do. Zach is one of the most determined and focused guys I’ve ever met. I just wish he’d give himself a day or two to relax once in a while. Honey used to help him with that, but since she left, he’s been slowly winding himself up tight.
“Well, since you’re busy, I’ll probably head to bed.”
“Why?” He reaches into his bag beside the table and pulls out a stack of colorful paper. “When you have all these options available to you.”
It’s only when I get close enough that I realize they’re flyers for various activities at St. Michael’s. Dance classes, art workshops, fitness programs.
“I went through and found all the classes that are open to non-students and in the evening. They have beginner classes in salsa tonight. I bet Reese will be free if you ask him.”
I flip through the brochures, stopping at the picture of the lady in the bright red dress with her arm in the air and her partner staring her down. It’s utterly lustful and almost laughable that Zach is suggesting it.
But then I look at his hopeful face and I’m touched by his thoughtfulness despite everything else on his mind. “This is really sweet, Zach. Thank you, but I can’t go tonight if that’s what you’re suggesting.”
He shrugs. “Suit yourself, but I’m here. Ella’s asleep, so you can go. If not today, then next week.”
“I’ll think about it.” But will I? Probably not. “I guess I’ll head to bed,” I say, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. “Don’t stay up too late.”
“Yes, mom,” he says, the corner of his mouth twitching up for a second before falling back into that grim line. “Love you, cuz.”
“Love you, too.” I head toward my room, pausing at the doorway. “Zach?”
“Yeah?”
“Sometimes it just takes people a little time to see what’s looking right at them.”
He looks up, his eyes meeting mine with a flash of something raw and vulnerable. Then it's gone, replaced by that wall he's built. “Goodnight, Tiff.”
I head to my room and set my bag down. My body is aching. My hands are shaking, and I feel this sense of dread sitting on the top of my chest. I don’t think they’ve stopped since the diner, and maybe the exhaustion is getting to me.
When I’m at my desk, I lift my laptop to find the sparkly pink envelope with the fancy writing.
I walk over to my bed and lie down on the mattress, toying with the envelope as I do.
Jamie’s handwriting stares up at me.
He’s missing, except he isn’t.
He’s here, and I’m apparently the only one who knows it.
Is that because he’s here for me?
I continue to study the envelope as though something new could’ve happened to it while it sat under my laptop.
Should I read it?
Yes. Of course I should. He’s here for a reason.
Will I read it?
Not yet, because I don’t think I’m ready to handle whatever this means.
I stuff the envelope in my bedside drawer and close it, resting my palm on the wood until my breathing evens out.
I’ll read it… eventually.