Chapter 19 #2
The partner must’ve been Jamie’s father, and I know hearing that would’ve hurt Honey badly. What hurts more though is the fact that she didn’t fucking tell me about it.
My fists clench, my teeth grind. I’m ready to punch a hole through the plexiglass out of sheer frustration. I knew it. I knew they were going to be dicks to her, and yet, she’s been all smiles with me, pretending she’s happy.
“Here we go!” Honey's voice breaks through my thoughts as she returns with drinks balanced precariously in her arms. “Water for Zach, Diet Coke for Jenni, and hot chocolate for me.”
She hands out the drinks, then settles back into her seat beside me. Her hand finds mine automatically, our fingers intertwining with each other. I squeeze gently, and she returns the pressure, glancing up at me with a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.
“Everything okay?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I lie, forcing a smile. “Just thinking about Saturday's game.”
“You're going to crush it,” she says with unwavering confidence. “You always do.”
The buzzer sounds again, signaling the start of the third period, and her attention immediately returns to the ice.
I don’t bother to watch the game. I don’t give a shit about it. I watch her instead.
Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright. She’s clapping, bouncing slightly in her seat like she’s part of the game. It’s like she’s been waiting all day for this, and maybe she has.
If Jenni’s telling the truth, and I hate that I believe she is, then Honey’s day was a goddamn disaster. A partner at the firm humiliated her. Called her a consolation prize. Reduced her to her ex’s shadow, and she didn’t tell me.
She told Jenni, though.
She had all day. All afternoon. Every chance to text me, call me, walk into this arena and say, “Hey, I had a rough one.”
But she didn’t.
Instead, she told the girl who’s been flirting with me for two straight hours and pretending it’s nothing. Even now she’s sitting beside me like none of it happened.
The crowd roars and Honey's on her feet again, shouting encouragement. Jenni pushes past me to join her, and they start jumping like this is a fucking National Championship game.
I stay seated, my thoughts louder than the celebrations around me.
Tomorrow, I leave for Michigan. Another long weekend away from Honey while she continues to work at a place that treats her like shit, surrounded by people who whisper behind her back.
Meanwhile, Jenni will be here. Watching and picking up more pieces of my girlfriend’s mind that I get to see lately. Chris will be here too, giving her something I can’t right now—a break from the pressure that comes with being me.
The knot in my stomach twists tighter as St. Michael’s scores again. Honey turns to me, eyes bright, and I force myself to stand and celebrate with her.
I’ll push it all down, just for now. Eventually, it will get better. It has to.
“That was amazing!” she exclaims, moving around Jenni and wrapping her arms around me in a quick hug before turning back to the game. I hold her tighter than usual, not wanting to let go, but the moment passes, and she's focused on the ice again, slipping from my grasp as easily as she came.
After the game—which St. Michael's wins 7-2—we wait outside the locker room for Chris. Honey bounces on her toes, still riding the high of the victory, while Jenni scrolls through her phone, occasionally showing us particularly good action shots from the game.
“There he is!” Honey says as Chris emerges, his hair still damp from the shower, and his gym bag slung over his shoulder.
“Great game,” I say, extending my hand to him. I’m not going to let him or any of them think they can get to me. “That steal in the third period was impressive.”
Chris shakes my hand, his grip firm. “Thanks, man. Means a lot coming from you.”
There's a sincerity in his voice that makes it hard to dislike him, no matter how much I want to.
“You were incredible!” Honey gushes, giving him a quick hug that lasts just a beat too long for my liking.
“Just doing my job,” Chris says with a modest shrug, but I catch the way his eyes linger on Honey's face. Yup, that’s exactly the way I look at her.
“We should celebrate,” Jenni suggests. “Hail Mary's is probably packed, but we could grab a late dinner somewhere else?”
I shake my head regretfully. “Ah, I can’t. I've got an early flight tomorrow.”
“Another time then,” Chris says easily. “I should probably head back too. Early class.”
We walk to the parking lot together and when I get to my truck, I hook a finger through the loop in Honey’s jeans, tugging her a few steps away while Chris and Jenni linger nearby.
“You sure you don’t want to stay at my place tonight?” My voice is barely above a whisper. “I hate the thought of not seeing you before I leave.”
She hesitates, then glances back at her friends. “I should probably go back to my dorm. I’m in the same early class as Chris.”
“So? You could leave from mine.” I force some semblance of charm into my voice because I don’t want to sound as desperate as I feel. “I’ll even make you breakfast.”
A faint smile flickers across her lips. “Tempting, but I really should go back and do some work for my internship.”
The internship that made her upset earlier.
“Raincheck?” she adds, hopefully.
The word guts me, but I nod along as though it didn’t. “Of course.”
Before I can offer to drive her home, Chris steps in.
“Hey, Honey, do you want me to take you to your dorm?” he asks casually. “I’m heading that way anyway, and it would save Zach the trip since he’s got an early flight.”
It’s reasonable and practical, but it feels like a sucker punch no less. It’s not even because of the offer. It’s because of how quickly her face lights up at the prospect.
“Oh, that would be great,” she says, relief softening her voice. “Thanks, Chris.”
“Anytime.” He shoots me a look that might be apologetic. Or smug. Hard to tell.
I keep a smile on my face regardless. “Appreciate it, man.”
She rises on her tiptoes to kiss me, her lips soft against mine. “I'll see you when you get back. Call me when you land?”
“Always,” I promise.
I watch as she walks back to Jenni and Chris, saying something that makes them both laugh. The three of them look like they belong together—easy, uncomplicated.
And I’m just… standing here.
Not part of it. Not invited in.
She didn’t even mention or act like she had a rough day to me.
But she told Jenni, so why didn’t she want to tell me? And why does watching her climb into another guy’s car make my chest feel like it’s collapsing?
I climb into my truck, my hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as I watch them drive away. The knot in my stomach has transformed into a dull ache, a persistent reminder that something isn't right.
But what can I do? I can't force Honey to spend time with me. I can't demand she stay away from her friends. I can't control who she becomes or what she wants.
All I can do is love her and hope it's enough to bring her back to me.
As I start the engine and pull out of the parking lot, I make a decision.
When I return from Michigan, we're going to have a real conversation—about us, about the future, about whatever is going on between us.
No more dancing around the issue, no more pretending everything is fine when it clearly isn't.
Because the truth is, I'm scared. Scared of losing the one person who's always seen me for who I really am.
Scared that while I've been focused on my career, on securing our future, I've somehow let our present slip through my fingers.
Most of all, I'm scared that by the time I figure out how to fix things, it might already be too late.