I accidentally overheard my fiancé complaining to his colleagues that I am too naggy, too perky, too mommish.

Three years together, and I believed every note I packed in his lunch, every home-cooked meal, every "I love you" text was appreciated. Then I heard the voicemail.

He was complaining about me to his colleagues.

"Honor is great, but she's so perky and in your face. And the notes are a little mommish, you know. "

I gasped, hard.

"She knows I'm busy, so why does she have to ask me all the time if my day is going well, how her da..mn dress looks.

"And yeah, the cooking is great, but sometimes I want to go out for lunch. I've thrown away her food twice this month."

I sat there in utter disbelief at what I just heard. My heart hurt so much. Tears sprang to my eyes as I replayed everything I heard in my head.

He called me too much, too perky, too mommish.

He threw away my cooking like it meant nothing.

I've given him three years. I thought we were on the road to becoming engaged.

I wiped my tears, started the engine, and drove away from the life I thought we were building.

___________

Honor

Greg's alarm woke me, so I got up and started the coffee while he was in the shower. I made him a breakfast sandwich, packed it in a container, and then put his fried chicken and potato salad in another. I packed his lunch bag, wrote a note telling him he'd got this, that today would be the day everything went right, and by the time he came down, I had his coffee in his insulated cup.

"Thank you, baby. You're the best," he said.

"You're welcome. I have to work tonight, so I won't be home when you get home. You're on your own for dinner."

"Alright, it'll probably be a late night anyway, we have court tomorrow."

"Love you, baby," I said, k1ssing him.

He groaned and pulled back. "I'm sorry I fell asleep on you last night."

"It's fine. I understand. Things will get better once this case is over," I said.

"I swear, best girlfriend ever." He k1ssed me one more time, grabbed his things, and was out the door a few seconds later.

I sighed and got ready for my day. Tonight, the women wanted to paint a martini glass with an olive in it.

I got the final headcount, so I drew the martini glasses on 32 16x20 canvases.

CeeCee had called to cancel our lunch date because she got called into work. She was a nurse at an assisted living facility, and she was always the first person they called when someone called in because the elderly loved her.

I texted Greg some inspirational quotes, hoping his day was going better than yesterday.

An hour later, I packed up my car with my supplies and the canvases. I had on a black-and-white jumper with a blue tank underneath. Clothes, I wasn't worried about getting paint on. I went back into the house, grabbed Josh's dinner, and then locked up.

I jumped in my Jeep Rubicon and blasted Adele on my way to Josh's tattoo shop.

I pushed through the door of his shop and said hi to Rachel, who worked at the front desk, answering phones, taking payment, and making appointments. She smiled at me as I made my way into the back of the shop.

The buzz of a tattoo gun always, for some reason, made me a little dizzy. But I was very curious and thought one day I might get one. Greg doesn't really like tattoos on women, but hey, my body, my choice.

I stopped behind a curtain.

"Josh, it's Honor, I have your food."

"Come on back, honey," he rumbled in his deep voice.

I peeked around the curtain, and there was a beautiful lady, lying on her side, her full thigh exposed. Her red hair splayed over the arm on which she rested her head. She smiled at me.

"Hi Stella," I said. I met her at my gym. She was a personal trainer. I always ask her for tips, and she helps me out.

"Hey, Honor. What did you bring?"

"I made some fried chicken and potato salad. Told Josh, I'd bring him some."

"That's so sweet of you. You painting tonight?" she asked, eyeing my clothes. I laughed because the outfit was not flattering.

"How could you tell?" I teased, dancing in a circle.

She laughed. I looked at her leg.

She was getting a white woman's face with flowing red hair and some interesting markings.

"Is that you?"

"No, it is my grandmother when she was younger. Putting some of my Celtic roots on my body."

"It's gorgeous."

"Thanks," both Josh, and she said at the same time.

We all chuckled.

"I'm going to put this in your fridge. I have to go set up."

"Alright, doll, thanks for bringing me food."

"Anytime, bye Stella."

"Bye, girl!"

I jumped back in my Rubicon and drove down four stores. Tonight's customers were a bunch of older sorority women. A reunion of all the sisters in the class of 97 from Alpha Delta Pi at UM.

I got the canvases out and all the new paint supplies I brought. Some of my brushes were so mangled that it was time to retire them. I had been out of a lot of paint tubes, too. Plus, tonight's painting required a lot of neon paint. I even bought spray glue and glitter.

My policy was BYOB, and snacks were fine if you wanted to bring some. I bought some pretzels and put out bottled water for those who didn't want to drink or forgot to bring something.

I put the canvases on the small table easels they went on. Put a lot of brushes out on each table, some paper plates, and rags for them to wipe with. I put red Solo cups of water in each spot and lastly set out the paints.

Women started showing up ten minutes before the start time. I smiled and greeted them. They brought snacks like Rice Crispies Treats, cheese balls, crackers, pinwheels, and something called "puff crack"-corn puffs with what looked like caramel all over them. I tried some, and yeah, it's f.cking crack. I took a bowl for myself.

The women definitely brought their own booze to share. Different wines, some tequila, and even a margarita mixer with everything needed. Oh boy, tonight was going to be wild. Well, this was Miami.

Four hours later, I was wishing a lot of drunk women, who, thankfully, all came in Uber's, goodbye with their paintings. They all did really well, some were really creative.

I cleaned up the store, put away the paints, and cleaned the brushes. By the time I was done, it was almost midnight. I was tired, but I had a lot of fun. I picked up my phone and purse. I turned my phone back on. I always turned it off during a party, and I saw I had a voicemail that was a few minutes long. It was from Lucy, Greg's assistant. I knew she had my number because Greg's phone would sometimes die, and he often used hers to text me if he was going to be late.

I locked up my store and went to my Jeep. I started the car and waited for my phone to connect. I pressed play on the voicemail and sat there as laughter burst through my speakers.

Seriously, this guy is screwed. It'll be a miracle if you pull this off tomorrow, Greg.

That voice was Stewart Smith, one of the senior partners. I was getting excited, Lucy must have called, so I could hear Greg getting praise.

I've got this, don't worry, Stewart. Lucy and I have been compiling a lot of evidence for Robert. His wife isn't going to get any more than the seven million she's already gotten by being married for seven years. The cheating clause will be null and void. She won't get the extra fifteen million or the ten percent of his company's shares.

Greg's got this, Stewart. We've all been working on this nonstop for a month.

I know Jerry, you have all been doing well. You're a great team and work well together. Greg picked a solid foundation with you three. You, Lucy, and Mark are going to come up with Greg if he pulls this off. You'll get a bump in your pay. So you need to root for him to win.

We are Stewart. Thanks for the praise.

Alright, you guys, good luck tomorrow.

I heard a door open and close, and then they all let out a breath. This was Greg and his team. Lucy was his assistant. Jerry was her assistant, and Mark, the PI Greg sometimes worked with, was also employed by the firm.

Alright, guys, one more hour, then you all go home.

What about you, Greg? (Lucy)

I'm going to stay as long as it takes. Court isn't until one, so I'll be okay.

Well, make sure you eat that food your girlfriend makes. You need some sustenance. (Jerry)

Yeah. I missed lunch. Thanks for the reminder.

It's cute that she cooks for you all the time and packs your lunches. And the little notes are adorable. Neil would love for me to be more like Honor. But I am not that person. (Lucy)

I smiled. I've always liked Lucy.

Yeah, it's nice, I guess.

You guess? What the f.ck?

It is nice. I would love for my wife to do this for me. I get stuck eating takeout all the time. (Mark)

Thank you, Mark

It's just a little much sometimes. Honor is great, but she's so perky and in your face. And the notes are a little mommish, you know. Like she's my girlfriend. I don't need pick-me-up notes at lunch. And she texts all the da..mn time. She knows I'm busy, so why does she have to ask me all the time if my day is going well, or if I want her to come visit, or how her da..mn dress looks. I'm swamped here. Like today, she sent two texts with some inspirational cr-ap. I'm not a fricken child. And yeah, the cooking is great, but sometimes I want to go out for lunch. I've thrown away her food twice this month.

I gasped, hard.

Whoa man. Where is this coming from? You've got to be fricken kidding me. Don't ever throw away Honor's cooking. Give it to me. (Jerry)

Boss, are you okay? (Lucy)

I'm just tired, Lucy, and maybe I just need some space to think. There's so much pressure, and I can't drop the ball. We have a lot riding on this case.

There was silence.

You know what, you guys just go ahead and go. I just need to work on this alone.

Are you sure? (Jerry)

Yeah. You guys go. I'll see you all at the courthouse no later than 12:30.

Okay, bye. (Lucy)

Later, man. (Mark)

Yeah, see ya tomorrow, Greg, and don't stress, you got this. (Jerry)

Thanks.

The door opened and closed. Jerry expressed his disbelief at what Greg said to Lucy and Mark. Yeah, me too, Jerry.

They all said goodbye to each other, and then I heard Lucy humming as she got into her car. The car starts, and then I hear a gasp.

"Hello?" she says. "f.ck, who did I butt dial?" Then the phone disconnects.

She must not have me saved in her contacts. I sat there in utter disbelief at what I just heard. My heart hurt so much. Tears sprang to my eyes as I replayed everything I heard in my head.

I was too much, the notes were mommish. I texted too many times, was too perky, and he wanted to eat out.

I cried for a solid half an hour. I looked at my phone, and there were no calls or texts from Greg. He must still be at the office. The call had come through at nine p.m.

I wiped my tears, put my Jeep in drive, and drove home on autopilot. I didn't know what to do. I could pack a bag and go to my parents' house, but I didn't want to. I didn't want them to know how Greg felt about my acts of love. I should call CeeCee, but not yet. I needed to think.

When I got home, Greg's car wasn't there, so that was a relief. I went inside, climbed the stairs, and went into the bathroom. I stripped and got in the shower.

I've given him three years. What was I going to do?