Chapter Thirty
“What the actual…Ira?” Honey stared at the closed door. He had to be kidding. Right? Ten minutes after he casually dropped the bomb that he loved her, he walked out. The man was a nut case. Insane. Crazy as a June bug. Bat crap crazy. She swiped at a tear racing down her cheek. She wouldn’t let him get to her. He had no effect on her. None. Not one bit.
She staggered to the couch and flopped down, belly first. She trembled with tension and unspent emotion. Anger came first and foremost, sadness a close second. Ira had been a jerk, but this was all her fault. She’d known better than to enter into a serious relationship with a man. Friendship was one thing. Sex another. Combine the two with visions of the future fueled by love and you had a disaster in the making when you had unsharable secrets.
Well, the cat was out of the bag now. He knew she had ties to the military. No taking the information back. He was a smart man. He’d eventually puzzle things out. Not that it mattered, since he dumped her.
Screw Ira Castillo.
She didn’t need him. Not his adorable face, his sexy body, or his intelligent mind. She didn’t need his friendship, or his love.
“I’m fine by myself. I don’t need you.” She rolled over and stared at the ceiling. She couldn’t even convince herself. How was she supposed to go forward now?
Tawny hoped up on the couch and climbed onto her chest purring. Honey slid into a seated position without dislodging the cat and buried her face in his fur. So much for the bright happy future she’d been planning. The one where she shared her life with Ira and carried his babies. She was going to have to move on. She couldn’t be in a relationship with a man who didn’t trust her implicitly.
If only her heart understood that Ira wasn’t the man for her.
For the first time since moving to Coyote Creek, Honey called in sick to work at the café. Not once, but two days in a row. She didn’t even feel guilty. At least not much.
She wandered around her apartment, not bothering to shower or change. She ordered comfort food from the grocery store and had it delivered.
Ice cream, cake, cheesecake, cheezies, chips, and frozen pizza. She ate until she was gorged, trying to drown her feelings in food. That’s what you did when you had a broken heart, wasn’t it?
Forty-eight hours after Ira crushed her heart and spirit, someone was pounding on her door. Rising from the couch, she swore if it was Ira, she’d punch him in the face for hurting her. Then, she’d throw him out.
“Get real, woman,” she mumbled to herself. “You don’t have a violent bone in your body. If it is him, you’re more likely to listen to what he has to say than to kick his butt to the curb.” Ignoring the temptation to screen her guest, she avoided peering through the peephole and yanked the door open, realized she hadn’t even locked it after Ira left two days ago. Stupid.
“Lacy?” Honey stared at her guest.
“Wow. You look like crap. What is it, is it the flu? Food poisoning? The black plague?” Lacy pushed her way inside, ignoring Honey’s weak attempt to stop her.
“I’m fine.” Honey shut the door and locked it. No more stupid mistakes.
“I can see that.” Lacy stared around the apartment, hands on her hips.
Honey could almost feel the assessment and suppressed a groan at the sight of discarded ice cream tubs, cake containers, and a half-eaten pizza.
“What in the world?” She pivoted to stare at Honey. “Obviously it isn’t the flu.” Her eyes lit with inspiration. “What did he do? When I get my hands on him…” she made a twisting motion with her hands like she was strangling someone. She looked around again. “At least you’re only eating yourself to death, not drinking yourself senseless.” She scooped up a collection of empty containers and carried them to the trash before plugging in the kettle.
Honey flopped onto the couch and watched her friend tidy up and brew an enormous pot of tea.
“Drink this,” Lacy ordered putting a steaming mug in front of her, “and spill your guts. Tell me everything. What evil things has Ira done?”
She didn’t want to talk about it. She’d rather wallow in her misery and the shame of being dumped. “Nothing. He didn’t do anything.”
“Right,” Lacy drawled sarcastically. “Nothing made you skip work and binge eat half a grocery store of junk food. You’re my best friend. I tell you everything. You can trust me with this. You need to talk about it. Purging your emotions is good for the heart and soul.”
“Yeah, well, my heart and soul dumped me like yesterday’s garbage.” The ache in her chest, the one she hadn’t tamed, surged up again stealing her breath and lodging a lump of regret in her throat. She choked the regret down as best she could and ignored the renewed trembling in her limbs. She wanted to cry, to ease the ache behind her eyes and the pressure in her chest. Tears wouldn’t come. She sat there, dry eyed, staring at her friend.
“That bastard. Why’d he go and do a stupid thing like that? You guys are perfect for each other. Any idiot could see the love between you.”
“It isn’t about lack of love. It’s about lies and half truths.”
“He lied to you? Oh, that infuriates me.” Lacy smacked her fist into her right palm.
“I lied to him.”
Lacy gaped at Honey like she had three heads. “You’re the most honest person I know. What lies could you possibly have told him?”
