21. Chapter 21 #2
“I know this doesn’t fix anything,” I go on, “but I wanted you to know I’m happy you were able to move on with Zach. You guys seemed happy, and if my fuckups brought you that little bit of happiness, then, at least I can claim I did something right in this world.”
“Okay,” she says slowly, her thumb tracing the lip of the coffee cup.
“When you started dating him. I got jealous. Not that I had the right to be, but you were the only thing that felt real in our little fucked-up rich world. You were the only person who I could really count on no matter how much I screwed up, and I didn't want to lose that. An asshole move from me, and I’m sorry.”
She doesn’t say anything. Just watches me with a guarded expression. Then she bites her bottom lip. “It’s okay,” she says, so soft I barely catch it.
I bring my hand forward, wanting to comfort her, but I stop myself. It’s not my place anymore. It hasn’t been for a long fucking time, and I doubt Honey would want her ex-‘fiancé’ watching over her now.
“What changed?” Honey asks quietly, still not meeting my eyes. “When we were in junior high, it always felt like we were in this together. It felt like one day the switch was flipped and you couldn’t stand to be near me.”
What changed?
That’s the most loaded question she could’ve ever asked me, and it’s something I’ve never actually said out loud.
“Finding out I wasn’t actually born for the life we’d been forced into. Things just lost all meaning. I should have told you. About the adoption. About all of it.”
“I doubt I would’ve cared.” She lets out a short laugh. “I was so busy trying to be perfect, and to be exactly what they wanted, and I would’ve just tried to fix it. That wouldn’t change your feelings, though.”
The honesty in her words cuts deep because she's probably right.
We sit in silence for a moment, the weight of everything we've been through settling between us. Not uncomfortable exactly, but heavy with the ghosts of who we used to be.
“How's Zach?” I ask, the question slipping out before I can stop it.
Her smile falters. “I wouldn't know.”
“Really? I was under the impression he went to see you last night?”
Her eyes widen as they meet mine.
“You know about that?”
“Uh, yeah. Hard to miss his wide smile this morning.”
“You saw him this morning?” She lets out a breathless laugh. “I saw him, and we just talked, and it was only because the girl who fronts my dorm mentioned he’d been standing outside it for the last few days. Zach and I aren’t together. We haven’t been for a while now.”
“Why? What happened?”
She sighs. “Fame happened. Zach's sudden popularity, the spotlight, everyone wanting a piece of him… I couldn’t handle it.
Especially the backlash aimed at me. Did you know there are social media accounts dedicated to 'Zoney'?” Her voice takes on a bitter edge.
“Not the cute couple accounts you'd think.
These were hate pages, pointing out all my flaws, creating polls about how long before Zach would 'come to his senses' and dump me. Some even had countdown clocks.”
“Shit,” I mutter, genuinely horrified. “That's beyond fucked up.”
“My supposed friend last year turned out to be running one of them.” She stares into her coffee. “All the while smiling to my face and acting like we were close.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I just needed space from all of it. The constant attention, the fake friends, the pressure.” She stares at her thumb rubbing across the lip of her cup.
“I can’t do it. I can’t be that girl again.
” Her breath hitches, and she glances down, hiding her watery eyes.
“I can’t keep being ridiculed for breathing. ”
The regret in her voice is unmistakable. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t miss him.”
“Yeah,” she admits quietly. “But I can’t get back what we had without accepting what we’ve become.”
“For what it's worth,” I say, “I always thought you and Zach were meant to be together.” The words come out before I can think better of them. “I don't know. When I look at you two… you just kind of fit.”
Color floods her cheeks, and for a moment she looks like the Honey I’d watch the stars with. Young and naive to the real world. “Kind of like you and Tiff, then?”
The comparison catches me off guard. “Me and Tiff?”
“Yeah.” Her smile is knowing now, but there's something sad behind it too. “Jamie, I’ve never seen you fight for anything in your life. You knew Tiff for one night before coming here, and you were already willing to give up everything for the chance to be near them. That’s real in a way we never were.
” She pauses, her fingers tightening around her cup.
“She’s resisting it right now because she can’t believe it.
But, I think you’ll both get there eventually. ”
“And you and Zach?” I ask gently. “Will you get there eventually?”
“It's not that simple.” Her voice is barely above a whisper.
“I'm working for the people who tried to destroy his family.
I'm keeping secrets from him. Every day I go into that office, I betray him a little more, and I—” Her voice cracks.
“I can't ask him to wait for me when I don't even know who I am anymore.”
“Honey.” This time I reach across the table, covering her hand with mine. “You're doing what you have to do to survive. To help Tiff. You aren’t betraying him. You’re helping him.”
“You sure?” She finally meets my eyes, and a single tear escapes down her cheek. “I keep telling myself I'm gathering evidence, that I'm playing the long game, but what if I'm just… what if I'm just my father's daughter after all? What if I'm no better than them?”
“You're nothing like them,” I say firmly. “Nothing. You're trying to help people they hurt. That's the opposite of what they'd do.”
She's quiet for a long moment as she processes my words. Then her phone buzzes on the table. She glances at it, and something flashes across her face—longing mixed with pain.
“I want to help you, Jamie. I’ll keep looking into what they are planning, but you need to be careful. You know what our fathers are like when they feel threatened.”
Before I can respond, my phone buzzes. A text from Tiff.
Tiff: Ella wanted you to see her drawing
There's an image attached. I open it, and smile.
It's a crayon drawing of three figures: a small stick figure with blonde pigtails, holding hands with another with long brown hair. On the other side, the little stick figure is holding hands with another. He’s got dark hair, and a bright pink crown on his head.
Is that—Is that me?
Tiff: She says you're her prince. Thought you should know.
I can’t help it, I smile because I’m so fucking happy I’ve found them. I never thought I’d be able to feel something other than hollow, but these two fucking girls are filling me to the brim with happiness.
Honey leans over, catching sight of the screen. “You deserve this, Jamie. This happiness. Our fathers have taken too much from us. Don't let them take this from you too.”
“Mr. Nicks?” a lady calls, looking around the tables.
I stand, offering my hand to hers. “That’s me, but you can call me Jamie.”
She takes my hand, but doesn’t smile. “Nice to meet you, Jamie. I’m sorry I’m late. I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
I raise a brow. “Bad news?”
She takes in a sharp breath. “The position has just been filled.”
“Filled?” I ask, confused. “But I had an interview—”
“I know, and I apologize for the confusion.” She glances at Honey, then back to me. “The decision was made just ten minutes ago and was above my pay grade.
“Above your pay grade?”
“I’m very sorry,” she says. “If it were up to me, I would have at least interviewed you before making this decision.” She shakes her head. “I hope you find something soon.”
She walks away, leaving me standing there, the weight of what just happened settling over me.
No job from the only place that even called me back.
“I have no doubt your father has something to do with this,” Honey says when the lady is far enough away.
“Of course he did. He wants me back. He needs me back.”
I glance down to my phone on the table. It’s still open to Ella’s drawing. My daughter, who thinks I'm a prince. Who believes I can protect her and her mother from anything, but how am I supposed to do that when I can’t even get a job?
“I need to warn Tiff,” I say, taking my phone so I can type her a message.
“No.” Honey's hand on my arm stops me. “Not yet. Don't let him know you're onto him. Act normal. Let me dig deeper at the firm, and find out exactly what they’re planning. You don’t have to honor whatever weird arrangement your grandfather has. We can figure this out. We can fight back.”
“Honey—”
“Trust me,” she says, and there's steel in her voice now. “I've been playing their game long enough to know the rules. We need to be smart about this. Strategic. I’m not letting them take any of you down.”
Fuck. When did she become such a warrior? She gives off the vibes that she’s trying to be the perfect daughter, but deep down, she’s not. She’s fighting them without them realizing it.
“Okay,” I agree. “But if things escalate—”
“They will,” she says grimly. “It's not if, it’s when, but we’ll be ready to fight back.” She squeezes my arm once, then lets go. “I'll be in touch. In the meantime, don’t think about your father. Just enjoy your time with them. You deserve it.”
She's walking away when I call out, “Honey?”
She turns back.
“Text him,” I say. “Zach. Tell him what’s happening. Just…don't shut him out. You'll regret it if you do.”
Her smile is sad but grateful. “I'll think about it.”
As she disappears into the books, I sink back into the chair, staring at my phone. Ella's drawing stares back at me, that pink crown perched on my head.
She wants a prince, and I’m not giving that up.
I don't care what my father throws at me, I’ll fight like hell to earn that crown.
I press my hotel key card against my door, waiting for the green light to show, feeling like this morning was a waste of time.
I missed Ella for a nonexistent interview, but at least I cleared up a few things with Honey. She’s on my side, and I’ll always be on hers. Who knows? Maybe we can be the team that they always wanted us to be, but just in a different way than they expected.
Pushing my door open, I start to think about other jobs I could try to get. Tutoring? Tiff put that idea in my head the other day, and now I can’t stop thinking about it.
“Thatcher Hastings?”
The deep voice comes from behind me, and with one foot in my room, I freeze.
“Are you Thatcher Hastings?” he asks again.
I slowly turn to find Tiff’s father leaning against the wall down the hall with his arms crossed. He’s in the same worn jacket from two days ago, sporting the same bitter expression.
“Who?” I play dumb, not wanting to get Asher in any more shit than I already have, everyone knows he gets himself into enough trouble without me adding to it.
Tiff’s father laughs, bitter and sharp. “That’s who you said you were, at least when you didn’t want anything linked back to you—Jamie Nicks.”
“How did you know where I was staying?” My hand tightens on the door handle.
“Does it matter?” He pushes off the wall, taking a step closer. “We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t.” I step back into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind me. No way is this man getting anywhere near my room. “You need to leave. Now.”
“I’m not here to cause trouble.” He holds his hands up, which does nothing to ease my suspicion. “I just want to have a conversation. Man to man.”
“Man to man?” I let out a harsh laugh, keeping my voice low despite wanting to shout. “You mean the man who kicked his pregnant daughter out versus the man who's trying to actually be there for his kid? Yeah, I don't think we have much to talk about.”
His jaw tightens, a flash of anger crossing his face before he smooths it away. “I made mistakes. I know that, but I'm trying to make things right.”
“By stalking me at my hotel?”
“By warning you.” He takes another step closer, and every instinct I have screams at me to either walk away or hit him. Possibly both. “You need to stay away from Tiffany and Ella. For their own good.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” His voice is firm now, losing the false friendliness. “Stay away from them. Go back to whatever life you had before and forget about them. They don't need you complicating things.”
Stay away from them?
Does he really think that’s possible now?
My fists clench as I try to hold back all the anger and rage coursing through my veins. There’s more to this than a concerned grandfather suddenly making an appearance.
That’s when it all clicks into place. The timing of his appearance. Honey's warning at the bookstore about my father's plans. The pulled job interview.
He was sent here.
“How much is my father paying you?” The question comes out bitter. “To sabotage your own daughter’s happiness? Must be a hell of a price.”
“He’s not.”
“Please. I know a Jonathan Nicks setup when I see one.”
Tiff’s father doesn’t deny it. He just stares at me with those hard, empty eyes.
“What did he tell you?” I ask carefully.
“That you're unstable. That they don’t know where you are half the time. That you’re transferring out of Southern Collegiate because you can’t handle it. You’ve cheated your way through life: in high school, with the only girlfriend you’ve had. You’re nothing and you’ve got nothing going for you.”
All of my failures roll off his tongue, and I should be embarrassed by them, but I’m not. They are all the things that brought me here. To my real family.
“Stay away from Tiffany and that little girl,” he says, looking at me, and I wonder what he sees. Another rich kid playing pretend? Or someone genuinely trying to be better? “This is your only warning.”
He turns and walks toward the elevator, not waiting for a response.
I stand there, watching him go, my phone buzzing in my pocket with a text from Tiff.
Tiff: Game's almost over. Ella scored a touchdown! Albeit against a tiny goal, but it still counts. What time do you want us to pick you up?
I look from the phone to the elevator doors closing on Tiff's father, and something hardens inside me.
Fuck him.
Fuck my father.
They can send whoever they want. They can threaten, manipulate, try to destroy every opportunity I have.
I'm not changing.
I'm not leaving.
I type out a response.
Jamie: That's amazing! Tell her I'm so proud. I’ll come to you at four.
Tiff: Great! See you then.
I unlock my door and step inside, closing it firmly behind me and engaging the deadbolt. If anyone thinks they’re getting in the way of Tiff and me, they’ve picked the wrong battle.
She and Ella are mine now, and I will fight with my life for them.