I don’t finish that sentence. Honestly, I don’t know how to right now. Clenching my fist in annoyance, I blow out a breath that’s supposed to be calming. It’s not.
“He really does love you, Honey,” she continues as if I don’t already know that. “We all see it, and we think—Ithink maybe you do too.”
“There’s no question that I love him. He’s the first person who made me feel seen, and Iknowhe loves me. That's never beenthe problem. The problem is, I still haven't figured out who I am without that love, and the longer I put it off, the longer this pattern keeps going.”
“I get that, Honey, and I want you to have this, but you’ve been dangling yourself in front of Zach since you broke it off with him. Either cut him off completely or do the work with him by your side. What you're doing now is just hurting both of you. I’m not sorry we did this. If anything, I think this might force you to figure your situationship out.”
“I don't dangle myself in front of him, and we’re not in a situationship.”
“You’re not? Didn’t you kiss him when you told him you were transferring out of St. Michael's?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. I knew I shouldn’t have told her.
“That was a mistake, and I told him as much.”
“Sure, a mistake. Completely get that. It’s like when Mike leaves the toilet seat up. Mistake, but what do you call fooling around in the bathroom at his cousin's wedding?”
I close my eyes, knowing full well I'm not going to win this argument.
“That was—”
“Another mistake? You can't keep taking what you want from him and calling it a mistake instead of confronting what that means.”
“I know. Iknow.” I swallow down the guilt. What I’m doing isn’t fair, and I doneedto really talk to Zach about things, but do I want to do it here? On a boat that I can’t get off of? I guess I have no choice. “I promise I'll figure out whatever this is and talk to Zach.”
“That's all we're asking, Honey.” There’s some noise in the background. “Oh, darn. I’ve got to go. That’s the crib delivery. I’ve got to go help Mike. No doubt he’ll get them to leave it in thekitchen if I’m not there,” she says. “Good luck, Honey. I know you can do this.”
“Thanks,” I mutter.
We say our goodbyes, and when the line is dead, I toss the phone to the side and stare at the ceiling, still trying to process how I’m going to survive with Zach right next door.
Two. Weeks.
I’ve got two weeks to figure out my life and what I want, but can I do that—with him here?
Maybe that’s the real test.
Maybe without all the noise of college and our friends, I can do both.
Or maybe this will all blow up in my face.
Either way, Zach Evans and I are about to spend two weeks together on this ship, and there's nowhere left for me to hide.
Taking another sip of my whiskey, I reread Mike’s message, contemplating how to respond to it.
Mike:Dude, you literally ambushed her on a cruise ship while she was throwing up over the side of the ship. What did you expect?
I expected a hell of a lot more than a slammed door and a ‘fuck you,’ that’s for sure. I swirl what’s left of my drink in my glass, contemplating whether I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life or it’s the smartest play I’ve ever run.
Mike:I get what you were going for, but romantic gestures usually work better when the girl isn’t covered in vomit. Just something to consider for next time.
Zach:There will be no next time. I’m getting Honey back.
Mike:If she doesn’t push you overboard first.
Zach:The thought definitely crossed her mind. I could see it in her eyes as she wiped away the vomit from her mouth. I think the only reason she didn’t was because she was trying not to vomit again.
Mike:I don’t have any sympathy for you. This was your plan. Own it.
