Breaking the Rules: The Honeybees, book 1 Read Online Free
Author: Amy Archer
the shelter, the chilly wind whipping through my dress the moment I opened the door.
Outside, it was so dark, and a chilly mist of rain had begun to fall. A feeling of dread descended on me. This had been a great diversion, an unexpected break from real life. But now I would have to face my life again, and I was at the precipice of a choice: go home and see Matt, or find somewhere else to spend the night.
Instead of deciding just yet, I turned on a whim and rushed back inside.
“Excuse me,” I said to the woman behind the desk. “If the owner doesn’t claim him…would you be able to let me know?”
“We don’t typically follow up with people who bring in strays,” the woman said. “Or do you mean you’d like to adopt him if he’s not claimed?”
I took a deep breath. This was crazy. I knew nothing about caring for a dog—I wasn’t even sure my landlord allowed pets in the house. But this dog had been there for me when no one else had. “I’d like to adopt him.”
“Sure, I’ll make a note. I have to warn you, though—that dog looks like someone loves him. I think the chances of you getting a call are low.”
“I know,” I said. “Thank you.”
I gave a small smile to the woman before leaving again, and this time my heart felt better, stronger. Maybe even ready to face my current situation.
When I got home that night, Matt was already asleep on the couch. I snuck into the bedroom, glad not to have to talk to him, and slept fitfully until nine the next morning, late for me. When I woke up, though, I lay staring at the ceiling for another hour, not quite ready to face the day yet. Instead, I snuggled deeper into the comforter, thinking about the night before.
It was all so painful, what had happened.
But then there was the dog. I smiled, remembering him, and wondered what he was doing right now. Had his owner found him yet?
Finally, I pulled myself out of bed, sure I’d find Matt in the living room at his computer, playing a game with his headphones on, totally absorbed. I wondered whether he was upset, or if he really was dealing with this “rationally,” a term that infuriated me more the more I thought about it.
But he wasn’t there. The house was still and silent, so I made myself breakfast and sat at the kitchen table, thinking about how to start in on my list. I’d need to find a marathon training group, and the sooner the better. I searched idly on my phone while I ate, and quickly found that there was a marathon here in the city at the end of May, nine months away, and a training group that started, unbelievably, in two weeks. It was too perfect.
Finally, at almost noon, Matt walked in.
“Hey, Soph,” he said, his eyes darting around as though unsure what I’d do to him.
“Hi, Matt,” I said. My stomach did a little flip-flop at the sight of him.
“I found an apartment,” he said. “I can move in next week.”
“You—what?” I asked, shocked. He’d found a place to live already? This was all happening so fast, I felt like my head was spinning.
“Yeah, I’m going to start packing up now.”
I stared at him. “Already?”
“I think it’s best, don’t you?”
I didn’t answer, and after a moment he disappeared into the bedroom. I shook my head in frustration. Matt had been kind throughout our relationship, but I wasn’t particularly surprised that he was so matter-of-fact now. He hated conflict, hated dealing with emotions. I hated conflict too, but there were times—such as at the end of a six-year relationship—when a little bit of communication could’ve gone a long way.
But there was no time to wallow. I pulled myself up and headed out the door to sign up in person for the marathon training group. The marathon was now top priority.
CHAPTER 2
Finding a marathon training group was one thing. Getting up the courage to actually go to the first training was another.
I’d gone on a few practice runs ahead of
Outside, it was so dark, and a chilly mist of rain had begun to fall. A feeling of dread descended on me. This had been a great diversion, an unexpected break from real life. But now I would have to face my life again, and I was at the precipice of a choice: go home and see Matt, or find somewhere else to spend the night.
Instead of deciding just yet, I turned on a whim and rushed back inside.
“Excuse me,” I said to the woman behind the desk. “If the owner doesn’t claim him…would you be able to let me know?”
“We don’t typically follow up with people who bring in strays,” the woman said. “Or do you mean you’d like to adopt him if he’s not claimed?”
I took a deep breath. This was crazy. I knew nothing about caring for a dog—I wasn’t even sure my landlord allowed pets in the house. But this dog had been there for me when no one else had. “I’d like to adopt him.”
“Sure, I’ll make a note. I have to warn you, though—that dog looks like someone loves him. I think the chances of you getting a call are low.”
“I know,” I said. “Thank you.”
I gave a small smile to the woman before leaving again, and this time my heart felt better, stronger. Maybe even ready to face my current situation.
When I got home that night, Matt was already asleep on the couch. I snuck into the bedroom, glad not to have to talk to him, and slept fitfully until nine the next morning, late for me. When I woke up, though, I lay staring at the ceiling for another hour, not quite ready to face the day yet. Instead, I snuggled deeper into the comforter, thinking about the night before.
It was all so painful, what had happened.
But then there was the dog. I smiled, remembering him, and wondered what he was doing right now. Had his owner found him yet?
Finally, I pulled myself out of bed, sure I’d find Matt in the living room at his computer, playing a game with his headphones on, totally absorbed. I wondered whether he was upset, or if he really was dealing with this “rationally,” a term that infuriated me more the more I thought about it.
But he wasn’t there. The house was still and silent, so I made myself breakfast and sat at the kitchen table, thinking about how to start in on my list. I’d need to find a marathon training group, and the sooner the better. I searched idly on my phone while I ate, and quickly found that there was a marathon here in the city at the end of May, nine months away, and a training group that started, unbelievably, in two weeks. It was too perfect.
Finally, at almost noon, Matt walked in.
“Hey, Soph,” he said, his eyes darting around as though unsure what I’d do to him.
“Hi, Matt,” I said. My stomach did a little flip-flop at the sight of him.
“I found an apartment,” he said. “I can move in next week.”
“You—what?” I asked, shocked. He’d found a place to live already? This was all happening so fast, I felt like my head was spinning.
“Yeah, I’m going to start packing up now.”
I stared at him. “Already?”
“I think it’s best, don’t you?”
I didn’t answer, and after a moment he disappeared into the bedroom. I shook my head in frustration. Matt had been kind throughout our relationship, but I wasn’t particularly surprised that he was so matter-of-fact now. He hated conflict, hated dealing with emotions. I hated conflict too, but there were times—such as at the end of a six-year relationship—when a little bit of communication could’ve gone a long way.
But there was no time to wallow. I pulled myself up and headed out the door to sign up in person for the marathon training group. The marathon was now top priority.
CHAPTER 2
Finding a marathon training group was one thing. Getting up the courage to actually go to the first training was another.
I’d gone on a few practice runs ahead of
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