Unwritten Rules (Rules 1)

He doesn’t answer, looking down.

“I’m a way to hurt Kendrick.”

No response.

“Say it.” I raise my voice, holding back the tears to the point of pain.

“Winter, you’re only hurting yourself even m—”

“Say it,” I scream as loud as I can.

“Fine,” he snaps. “It was a game. All of it. I wanted to piss Kendrick off and make you fall for me so that I could see the look on his face when I told him that I fucked his precious cousin. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

My heart splinters into a million pieces.

If the maid hadn’t stopped us, I don’t know what would’ve happened. If no one had knocked on the door, I might’ve removed his shirt and…

I don’t even want to think about it.

God, I’m such a fucking idiot.

“You say your biggest fear is to end up alone,” I say, my voice trembling. “Well, you sure are good at pushing everyone away.”

I shake my head and rush out of the vehicle, slamming the door loudly. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t try to stop me. But at the same time, he said everything.

His silence did.

Silence is not just the absence of noise. It’s the absence of possibilities. Possibilities of second chances and forgiveness. In the end, what hurts the most is not what people say. It’s what they don’t.

Silence puts an end to the endless cycle we put ourselves through. To this never-ending torment that they call “hope.” Hope that it will get better. Hope that you’ll find your way back. Hope that you’ll get a happy ending.

Because you can’t forgive someone…

Who’s not sorry.

Haze’s black car takes off in a roar almost as soon as I step out of it. I keep walking, refusing to watch him disappear although every fiber of my being is begging me to.

I step onto my porch and insert the key into the hole. Just as I’m about to unlock the door, someone beats me to it, opening it from the inside. I come face-to-face with the last person I expected to see.

“Will?” I try to find a reason for his presence at my house this early. “What are you doing here? Kendrick’s at Alex’s?”

Shock occupies his eyes. He seems nervous, stressed. One thing is certain: he was not expecting me.

“Winter, hey.” He speaks rapidly. “I forgot something here. I had to pick it up before training.”

“Oh. Okay.” I force a smile, trying to ignore the painful pit in my throat and the tears begging me to let them out.

“See you later,” he says, walking around me and making his way to his car that’s parked on the other side of the street.

Well, that wasn’t weird at all.

As soon as I’m alone, I collapse on a chair and let the tears roll down my cheeks as I bury my face in my hands like a pathetic mess.

You’re such a dumbass, Winter. You did this to yourself.

I have no idea what I expected. That he actually cared about me? That he was texting me every day and showing up at my house because he liked me? It all started with a deal.

“Are you okay?”