“Honey—”
She raises a hand. “Don’t. It’s fine. I’ve always been second best with our families. The runner-up. I knew it when I took onthis internship. Hell, the only reason I even took it was to save Tiff’s ass from your father, but that’s not news. Jamie, they’re planning something to try to force you back.”
My stomach drops. “What kind of something?”
She hesitates for a second before she whispers, “I've seen some documents I shouldn’t have.” Her voice drops lower, and she glances around the bookstore before continuing. “They've been digging into Tiff's background. Her family, her finances, her father's history—everything.”
Her father’s history. The father that was too drunk to help his pregnant daughter.
“They're building a case, Jamie. I don't know what for yet, but it's extensive.”
“Fuck.”
I knew he was coming for me.
She takes in a sharp breath. “I’ve also…” She closes her eyes. “I don’t know how to tell you this, so I’m just going to come out and say it. I’ve seen documents about you, too.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” The way she’s looking at me makes me know immediately what she’s talking about.
“Adoption papers?”
“Wait, you know?” She leans back in her chair in surprise.
“Yeah… I found out a while ago.” I leave it at that, not wanting to dredge up the past and the way I treated her. I wish I could change that, but I know I can’t. “They’ve been trying to hide it because it fucks up my dad’s plans for when my grandfather passes away.”
“Oh.” The word comes out soft, and I watch realization dawn across her face. Her expression shifts—understanding mixing with something that looks like hurt. “When did you find out?”
The question hangs between us, and suddenly I'm back in that library four years ago. The night I found those documents. The night everything fell apart.
“The night I met Tiff,” I admit quietly. “I'd just found the papers in my father's office. That party at Thatcher's… I was already spiraling.”
Honey goes very still. “The night you—” She doesn't finish the sentence, but she doesn't have to.
The night I cheated on her for the first time.
“Yeah.” Guilt churns in my stomach. “I'm not making excuses, Honey. What I did was—”
She waves her hand. “Let’s not talk about it. A lot has happened since then, and I get it. Our life was—is—suffocating.”
“No, don’t marginalize it, Honey.” Her brows furrow at that. “I’m sorry,” I say, and fuck, those words feel too small. Too late. “For everything I put you through in high school. I was a selfish, entitled asshole who didn’t care who he hurt.”
She blinks, and shock filters across her face. That’s when I realize she never thought I’d say it out loud.
“That was a long time ago,” she says, her voice softer now.
“Not long enough,” I counter. “You didn’t deserve any of that. You were loyal, smart, good, and I used you like a damn crash test dummy. I was an asshole. Still am, probably, but I’m starting to see the wreckage I’ve left behind. You were the first and one of the worst affected casualties.”
She swallows hard, her lips parting like she wants to interrupt, but I’m not finished.
“And I’m sorry for more than just how I treated you. I’m sorry I let it happen at all. That I gladly went along with the plan our parents had for us, knowing it wasn’t what I wanted. I’m sorry I stayed in our relationship and for not taking accountability of my feelings. I guess I kind of hoped you’d get sick of me and end it, so I didn’t have to.”
Her breath hitches.
“I should’ve been honest. I should’ve told you what I felt, and what I didn’t feel. I’m sorry for ever making you believe we had something I could never give you.”
There’s a long pause, but I need to be honest with her. “I loved you, Honey. Still do. In my own fucked-up way, but not the way you need, or deserve.”