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.”