Chapter 2: Let's get married

Jade practically dragged Honey into the biggest nightclub in Winterspoon.

Honey stumbled beside her in a daze, her heels clicking weakly against the glossy floor as neon lights flashed across her tear-stained face.

Everything around her felt too loud, too bright, too alive.

She hated it immediately.

The bass pounded so hard it seemed to shake the ground beneath her feet.

Perfume, sweat, expensive cologne, liquor, and laughter floated thick in the air.

Bodies moved everywhere—half-naked women swaying like they had no problems in the world, men grinning as they leaned in close, hands roaming, mouths too near.

Honey felt like she had been dropped into the wrong universe.

“Come on,” Jade shouted over the music, tightening her grip on Honey’s wrist as she led her toward the VIP section. “Tonight, you are not allowed to think about that bastard.”

That bastard.

Jimmy.

The word alone made Honey’s chest ache all over again.

His face flashed in her mind.

The white tuxedo.

The wedding vows.

Kimberly standing beside him in that diamond-covered gown.

The way he had looked at her with no guilt, no shame, no remorse.

You were convenient.

Honey nearly stopped walking.

Jade turned and caught her before she could sink back into the memory.

“Nope. Don’t do that. Not tonight.”

Honey said nothing.

She let Jade guide her to a plush chair in the VIP section and dropped into it stiffly, like her body had stopped belonging to her.

Her spine stayed straight.

Her legs crossed automatically.

Her fingers wrapped tightly around the stem of the cocktail Jade shoved into her hand like it was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

Her hair was perfectly styled.

Her makeup was soft and flawless, glowing under the club lights.

Her lips were painted a bold, expensive red.

She looked put together.

She looked beautiful, even.

But inside, she was a complete wreck.

Her heart sat inside her chest like something bruised and dying, and no amount of powder, lipstick, or expensive lighting could cover that kind of damage.

Jade crouched in front of her.

“Listen to me carefully. You are not going home to cry yourself sick over that fool.”

Honey gave a hollow laugh.

“Then what exactly am I doing here?”

Jade’s eyes gleamed with reckless determination.

“You’re going to drink until you stop hearing his voice in your head.”

Honey stared at her.

“And if possible,” Jade added, completely serious, “you’re going to find a hot stranger and make a terrible decision.”

Despite everything, Honey blinked.

“That is your solution?”

“It’s better than watching you break apart in that house,” Jade shot back.

Then her face softened.

“Honey… I’m serious. I can’t lose you too.”

That hit harder than it should have.

Honey looked away quickly, blinking back fresh tears.

Jade had been there through everything.

Since kindergarten.

Since scraped knees and school uniforms and childish promises that somehow never broke.

She had been there when Honey lost her mother.

She had been there when Honey’s ADHD made school feel impossible, like trying to read through static.

She had been there when Honey had to leave college because there was no money.

And she was here now.

Still here.

Even after tonight’s disaster.

Jade reached up and wiped a tear from Honey’s cheek.

“I know you’re hurting. I know what he did was wicked. But you cannot let that man bury you alive.”

Honey’s throat tightened.

“I’m trying,” she whispered.

Jade nodded like she believed her.

“Good. Then try here. With me. Just for tonight.”

Honey looked around again.

The entire club pulsed like a living thing.

Blue and pink lights spilled over moving bodies.

Laughter rose and fell.

Glasses clinked.

The DJ yelled something into the microphone and the crowd roared back.

It all felt unreal.

This was her first time in a nightclub, and she already wanted to disappear.

Still, she nodded.

“Good girl,” Jade said, standing up. “Stay here. Drink something. I’ll be back.”

And just like that, she vanished into the crowd.

Honey sat there alone, fingers tightening around her glass.

One second, she had been anchored.

The next, she was drifting again.

She lifted the cocktail to her lips and took a slow sip.

Sweet.

Sharp.

Cold.

It burned all the way down.

By the end of tonight, she told herself, this pain had to stop.

She could not keep carrying this ache around in her chest like broken glass.

She could not keep replaying Jimmy’s voice, Jimmy’s face, Jimmy’s cruelty until her mind split open.

She was tired.

Tired of the sadness.

Tired of the humiliation.

Tired of feeling like she had lost everything that once made her feel like herself.

Across the dance floor, Jade was already moving with the crowd, laughing, dancing with some tall man who looked very pleased with himself.

Honey watched her for a moment and felt the distance between them like a wound.

Jade was bold where Honey was restrained.

Loud where Honey was quiet.

Effortless where Honey overthought everything.

Honey used to be lighter too.

Not like Jade, exactly.

But softer.

Hopeful.

Six months ago, life had finally started opening up for her.

Someone had bought one of her fashion designs and paid her well—well enough to move her siblings into a better apartment, well enough to settle her father’s overdue medical bills, well enough to make her believe that maybe, finally, things were changing.

She had dreams again.

Real ones.

She wanted to open a fashion house.

She wanted her name stitched into something beautiful.

She wanted a life that did not smell like struggle.

Then Jimmy ruined everything.

He had taken her money and run into another woman’s arms.

He had stolen her trust, her plans, her future, and left her standing in the wreckage looking stupid.

Now she was back at the bottom.

Back inside the dark.

Honey stood abruptly and made her way to the bar.

“More pornstar martini,” she told the bartender. “Or something stronger.”

The bartender gave her a long look, like he was trying to decide whether she was tipsy, unstable, or both.

Honey almost laughed.

He was probably looking at her small frame and wondering how much she could take.

Too much, apparently.

Because carrying too much was exactly what she had been doing for days.

The bartender finally placed a glass of amber liquid in front of her.

She drank it.

Then asked for another.

And another.

Soon, the room began to blur around the edges.

Lights smeared into each other.

Faces lost shape.

The music felt farther away and somehow deeper inside her bones.

Her body turned floaty.

But her memories stayed sharp.

Cruel.

Uninvited.

Tears rolled down her cheeks before she even realized they were there.

“More,” she slurred. “This drink isn’t working as much as I want.”

“Hey... you. What are you doing here?”

The voice came from behind her.

Masculine.

Deep.

Unfamiliar.

Honey turned around and froze.

He was hot.

Not in a cute, harmless kind of way.

In a sharp, dangerous way that made her breath catch.

Tall.

Broad shoulders.

Clean-cut.

Expensive-looking in a crisp white shirt and black pants.

His emerald-green eyes locked onto hers with such strange intensity that for a second, she forgot where she was.

“Nichole... when did you start drinking this much?” he asked, stepping closer.

Before she could react, he reached for the drink in her hand.

Honey laughed and lifted it out of his reach, smiling at him like she had known him forever.

Yes.

Now she was definitely drunk.

And maybe, just maybe, it was time for the second part of Jade’s reckless heartbreak prescription.

Maybe tonight she needed to stop thinking and start ruining things.

Before she could think better of it, Honey leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

For one startled second, he didn’t move.

Then he kissed her back.

Hard.

Deep.

His hand slid into her long black hair, gripping the back of her head firmly and sending heat racing through her body.

Then he pulled away.

His fingers closed around her wrists, steady and strong.

“Time to go home, Nichole.”

Honey blinked at him, confused, then laughed.

“What? I’m not Nichole.”

He frowned as if she were the one being difficult.

“Not only did you run away from home, now you’re lying too.”

Honey stared at him, her head swimming.

What the hell was he talking about?

“Your family has been worried sick about you,” he continued. “And my father blames me for your disappearance.”

“Disappearance?” Honey repeated, dazed.

He did not look confused.

He did not look drunk.

He looked deadly serious.

Then, in the calmest voice imaginable, he said:

“Let's get married, Nichole. I’ve finally agreed, so your father can let my father’s career breathe.”

Honey’s jaw dropped.

Absolutely not.

This man had completely lost his mind.

But sweet Jesus...

He looked certain enough to drag the whole world into his madness.