The Rule Breaker

I am sorry.

And I can't do better.

Holden's voice echoes through my head.

If it's something real…

Fuck you for hurting her.

Shouldn't that be her decision.

I pick up my cell. Check for any word from him. Or her. Or Daisy. Or anything.

Holden: She fell asleep on the couch. Looks peaceful. Like she's dreaming of kicking your ass. Did I mention that you're an idiot? And you need to fix this?

This is supposed to fix it.

To keep them from crumbling completely.

What is it they say? Cut off the arm to save the body? Some shit like that.

But maybe it's something else.

Maybe it's not that I want to hurt her less in the long run. Or save her and Daisy's friendship.

Daisy already knows.

And—

Maybe it's not about her.

Maybe it's about me.

A knock on the door interrupts me. That can't be her. Unless Holden fell asleep too. Unless she found his phone and sent false information to launch a stealth attack.

"Oliver." Dad knocks again. "Can we talk?"

Fuck, how did he get involved? I pinch my forearm. Will myself to wake up from this nightmare.

No good. I'm still sitting on my bed, my fan muffling the rest of the world but failing to cool me.

I'm hot all over. But it's not because I'm filled with thoughts of fucking Luna.

It's something else.

"Yeah." I pull on a t-shirt. Sit up straight.

Dad opens the door. Flips the light. He bends, picks up two mugs of coffee, holds them up like beacons of light.

Like father, like daughter. I guess she learned that from him.

"Is that a bribe?" I ask.

He half-smiles. "It's more that you look terrible."

"It's the middle of the night."

He nods even so. Moves into the room. Offers a cup to me.

"Thanks." I take it. Drink with greedy sips. It's not as good as the coffee I make, but it's strong and dark and hot.

He sits at the desk. Sips slowly. He's still in his pajamas. A t-shirt and long pants. No robe today. It's too hot up here. Or maybe he knows it makes him look like an old man.

He's not the most stylish guy, but he usually looks pretty good. He's a lot like me, really. Keeps it simple. A suit or part of one or jeans and a t-shirt.

Though that's rarer.

Seeing him casual. Open. With his guard down.

I haven't given him a reason to let his guard down in a long time. It's on me. But… it's on him too.

"Here to ask me to turn down the grunge?" I take another sip. Will the coffee to ease the knot in my stomach. It doesn't. That's not one of coffee's strong suits.

"I know better."

"And you like it."

"Where do you think you first heard it?" He raises a brow. "I was never as cool as you, Oliver, but I was with it once upon a time."

"Were you?"

He chuckles. "Went to all the local shows. Knew all the best artists. Had the prettiest girl on my arm."

"Was that what you loved about her?"

His eyes turn down. "I was young. It didn't hurt. But even then, fuck, you might not remember what your mother was like before she started using. She was a force of nature."

"A wildfire?"

He nods. "I thought of her as a hurricane. And all I wanted to do was dance in her storm. She was so vibrant and alive. I didn't know that was possible."

"Did you come here to reminisce?"

"Maybe." He folds his hands in his lap. "Luna reminds me of your mom. When she was that age."

"You're telling me I have an Oedipal complex?"

"You do want to kill me."

I can't deny that.

His eyes meet mine. He studies me for a moment. Considering something. Then he says the last thing I expect. "I owe you an apology, Oliver."

What? He owes me an apology?

That's a first.

"You're a lot like your mother," he says.

"A drunk?"

"A force of nature. A stiller one maybe. But just as stubborn and tough and strong."

"Dad, I hate to break this to you, but this is the worst apology I've ever heard."

He chuckles it is. "You do remind me of her. And I've… I've let that get to me. I've let that weariness grow. It's hard, trying to get through to you and failing. It's impossible sometimes."

He's right, but… "This is still a terrible apology."

"It's not an excuse. That's what I'm saying. That it's hard. That it's Sisyphean."

"You're talking to me, not Daisy."

"That it feels like I'm pushing a boulder uphill. I was. There was a long time that you didn't hear me."

"There was."

"But lately… you have. And I haven't caught up with that. I haven't stopped to appreciate it. To sit down with you and say thank you for trying. To tell you how proud I am. That you are trying. That you're fighting. That you're so stubborn and tough and strong." He blinks and a tear catches on his lashes. "Fuck, I know you and your sister hate it when I'm like this."