Page 137 of A Solid Guide to Surviving a Situationship

I let out a nervous laugh. “Okay, that sounds worse than it is.”

“Does it?” Honey asked.

An awkward silence settled between us.

I shifted my weight, glancing at the rack again like it might save me a second time.

“I just needed some time,” I said. “To myself.”

“That’s what you said the last time you disappeared for five months,” Andi pointed out.

“I didn’t disappear,” I said quickly. “I’m literally here now.”

“Oh, we can see that,” Honey said. “In public. Alive. Dressed. Thriving, even.”

“That’s debatable,” Andi added.

I smiled, but it felt thinner now.

Honey’s expression softened—just slightly—but her voice didn’t.

“It’s February, James.”

“You missed January meetups,” Andi added. “No calls. No show-ups. No replies.”

Honey leaned in a little. “We thought you went MIA again.”

Again.

I swallowed.

“I didn’t,” I said, quieter this time. “I just… needed space.”

Honey held my gaze for a second longer than I was comfortable with—like she was deciding to push further.

She didn’t.

Instead, she said, “You’re coming tomorrow.” Not asked but commanded.

I blinked. “To—tomorrow?”

“Our monthly brunch,” Andi added. “You remember those? The one you’ve been ghosting?”

“I didn’t⁠—”

“Non-negotiable,” Honey cut in.

I opened my mouth, already forming an excuse for Saturdays were whole days with Victor now.

“I might have⁠—”

“Don’t,” Honey said simply. Not loud. Not dramatic. But it landed like thunder before the storm.

And something about the way she looked at me—like I had already let her down—shut me up completely.

Andi smiled sweetly to ease the tension. “Because if you don’t show up, we will go to your apartment. Knock. Loudly. Repeatedly.”

Honey nodded. “With snacks.”