Honey's Poisoned Toy
She set the mug down with a sharp clink, anger flashing in her eyes. “I’m not getting in the middle of whatever you and Honey have going on. Just focus on your child and make it right. That’s all you need to worry about.”
I tried one last desperate card, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “Fine. Then I’ll start seeing other girls too.”
The look she gave me could have frozen lava in its tracks, eyes narrowing to slits, jaw tightening as she leaned forward across the coffee table. “Why would you do that? You want to start trouble and make Honey mad? Don’t be stupid, Devin.”
I dropped it immediately, the shame burning hot in my throat, and changed the subject to Trump and Iran, the conversation limping along in awkward, stilted bursts while my mind raced and my pulse hammered in my ears. Thirty minutes later the front door swung open with a cheerful creak, and Honey walked in with David right behind her, his hand resting casually on the small of her back like he belonged there. He headed straight for the kitchen like he owned the place, the soles of his sneakers squeaking softly on the hardwood. I started to stand, muscles tensing, but her mom’s hand shot out and clamped around my wrist like a vice, yanking me back down onto the couch cushions with surprising strength, her nails digging tiny crescents into my skin.
Honey smiled that bright, effortless smile of hers, the one that used to light up my whole world. “David, you gonna say hi to my mom?”
He shrugged, leaning against the doorframe with that easy confidence, his tall frame filling the space. “Yeah, but I was waiting for him to leave so there’s no drama at your house.”
Honey laughed softly, the sound light and musical as she patted his arm. “You’re fine. My mom knows you’re my friend, and my baby daddy isn’t gonna make a scene here. We do it at his house and he never says anything, right?”
David chuckled, deep and low, glancing my way with a knowing glint in his eye. “Not a word.”
“Exactly,” Honey said, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “I got this under control.”
He walked over and hugged her mom like they were old friends, the embrace warm and familiar, his arms wrapping around her shoulders while she patted his back affectionately. Her mom introduced us like it was the most normal Sunday dinner in the world, her voice bright and casual: “This is Honey’s friend David… and this is her baby daddy, soon-to-be fiancé, Devin.”