Page 31 of A Solid Guide to Surviving a Situationship

She looked at me, unimpressed.

“I said feel, not pretend.”

I laughed, leaning back into my seat.

For a moment, it was quiet. Comfortable, even. Just the sound of low conversations, the clink of cutlery, and the occasional hiss of the coffee machine behind the counter.

Until Honey spoke again.

“So,” she said, not looking up. “Let’s talk about you.”

I groaned immediately. “No.”

“Yes,” she insisted, finally meeting my eyes.

“No, I just healed from last week,” I said. “We just spent money. Let me enjoy this version of myself.”

“This version of you is expensive and avoidant,” she replied. “James, you can’t keep dodging this. You need to talk about it to heal. I know it’s difficult, but for you to get over it you have to kill yourself through to it.”

I sighed.

“I already told you everything,” I said. “All three of them in one night. That should count as emotional growth, right? Getting over that night?”

“That’s not growth,” she said. “And what happened that night was a plot twist. I’m talking about Victor.”

I rolled my eyes, but I felt the shift after.

“Tell me something,” she said. “When you think about him… what do you actually miss?”

The way her voice changed tightened my chest.

It was less playful.

More precise.

“Everything,” I said.

Honey tilted her head slightly.

“That’s not an answer,” she said. “That’s a feeling.”

I frowned. “It is an answer.”

“No,” she said gently. “It’s what people say when they don’t know what they’re actually holding on to.”

I looked away… at nothing, really.

So, she leaned back in her chair, studying me.

Then, casually, she said, “You weren’t in love with him,” as though she was stating a fact.

I looked back at her with doubtful eyes.

“James, you were in love with the fantasy,” she continued. “You were in love with the idea.”

Something pricked in my chest.

“What?” I said, almost laughing. “No.”