Unbroken Rules (Rules 3)

I’m not surprised, although I wish I was.

“She started rambling to me. I didn’t know what to do, so I took a leaf out of Caleb’s book and recorded her.”

Part of me knows where he’s going with this. No matter how much I wish I could excuse her absence, I know there are only so many terrible parenting passes I can give the woman.

“What did she say?”

“A bunch of BS. That’s all that matters. Things that Harry should really know if he…” His voice leaves him.

“If he survives,” I finish.

He doesn’t reply, acquiescing.

“I want to hear it.”

There are lots of words I’ve regretted saying in my life. Words such as “I want another slice of pizza” or “Sure, I can handle another shot,” but these words, right here, right now, might just turn out to be the ones that haunt me for the rest of my life.

“You really don’t need to listen to her nonsense, Winter.”

“I want to,” I insist. “How will I know what to say to my dad when he wakes if I don’t?”

I’m aware my use of the word when instead of if is dangerous. Chances are, he’s never going to wake up, but I’m not ready to accept, nor consider, that possibility. So, I won’t. I’ll hold on to every shred, ever splinter of hope that my dad’s going to wake up. That he’ll be around to walk me down the aisle, call me pumpkin, play with my kids and tell them stories.

I stretch my arm forward to press Play, but he yanks his phone out of my reach. “I said no. Drop it. I’ll just tell you what’s on there. Same fucking thing.”

“Haze, please.”

The conflicted expression on his face sneak peeks how bad the recording is. I knew it was bad, but this… this isn’t bad. That’s horrible. He winces when I pluck the phone from his hands and press Play in the same way you’d rip off a Band-Aid—quickly and with my eyes shut in anticipating of the burn.

“Winter, please don’t do this.”

His begging is muffled by a hoarse voice.

“I was sixteen. Just turned sixteen the month before. You should’ve seen him. He was so charming. Some would say irresistible. Mysterious, reckless, gorgeous. The kind of guy who could get anyone he wanted without blinking. Girls would have killed for his attention, but he only wanted me. Or so he said. I really thought he loved me, and God, did I love him.”

This is the first time in my entire life I’ve ever heard my mother talk about my biological father. She always refused to answer my questions. She wouldn’t even tell me his name. I hate that I’m hanging on to every hateful word.

“They all told me to stay away, but I didn’t. Because I thought I had found the love of my life. I was as stupid as Winter is right now. She really is my daughter after all.”

The more she speaks, the harder it is to breathe. She exposes bits and pieces of her rotten soul with each sentence, until finally, it’s all out for the world to see.

“Every time I look at her, I wish I had gotten an abortion.”

That’s the first bullet.

“That’s your daughter you’re talking about.” I recognize Haze’s deep voice.

“You think I don’t know that? That’s precisely the problem. Some great fucking idea it was to keep the baby.”

That’s the second bullet. Then comes the third, fourth, fifth. It never ends. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip to keep from crying. I’m so sick of crying

“I don’t love her. There. I’ve said it. I don’t love her, and I never will. Because every time I look at her, I see him.”

Her speech creates a never-ending roar in my head, a piercing, deafening scream of rage I can’t quiet. I’m angry. So angry that, after everything she did to me, it still hurts like hell to hear her say out loud what I’ve always known. But I guess, now, at least I know why.

Haze speaks again. “Congrats. You’re a piece of shit. If you can’t see that your daughter is the most beautiful, amazing, and caring person on this goddamn planet, you’re absolutely insane. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

My eyes find his. This is so sweet my heart can’t take it.