Page 134 of The Rules We Broke
I thought of Isaac’s final words.Tell Luanne I’m sorry. And that I always loved her.And I cried harder.
Kendra reached over and placed a hand on my leg. Like she could read my mind.
“Ellie,” she said softly, “none of this is your fault.”
I said nothing.
Not when Kendra tried to comfort me. Not when she pulled up to my house. I just ran—from the car, from the night, from everything—and straight into the arms of Aunt Lu.
She was curled up on the couch, dressed in her Auburn blue satin pajamas, looking like home.
I lost it the moment I saw her.
I collapsed onto her, my head in her lap, sobs racking through me like waves I couldn’t stop.
She stroked my hair gently. “Sugar, what happened?”
I couldn’t speak. Not for minutes. I just lay there, curled into her, letting the grief pour out.
“Ella Lu,” she whispered, voice trembling, “please—you’re scaring me.”
I hated leaving her in suspense. It couldn’t be good for her heart. But I wasn’t sure the truth would be any better.
“Aunt Lu,” I stammered. “Isaac Jackson . . . he’s . . . well . . . he died tonight.”
Her hand froze in my hair.
“He’s really dead?” she choked out, leading me to believe she still had feelings for him.
I nodded, unable to say it again. I wanted to tell her his final words were of her. That he’d loved her. That he’d asked me to tell her. But it didn’t feel right—not yet. Everything was too raw.
After a few moments, she noticed the ring on my finger. She lifted my hand slowly, her eyes searching mine.
“Did Brady propose tonight?”
“Yes,” I whispered through tears. “But that’s when it all happened. His momma lost it. Everyone started fighting. And then . . . Mr. Jackson collapsed.”
The memory played on repeat in my mind like the worst kind of movie montage. One I couldn’t turn off.
“So,” Aunt Lu asked delicately, “where does this leave you two?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered, tears still falling.
My phone buzzed from the bag I’d dropped on the floor. I didn’t need to check—I knew who it was.
“You should probably get that,” Aunt Lu said gently, brushing a strand of hair from my face.
With effort, I sat up and reached for the bag. Brady’s name lit up the screen, calling again and again until I finally answered.
“Hello,” I said, voice trembling.
“Ellie, are you okay?” he asked, frantic and breathless.
No. I wasn’t. But he’d just lost his father. My pain felt irrelevant.
“I’m so sorry, Brady,” I said softly, the words barely holding the weight I felt.
“Where are you? I’m coming to get you.” Brady’s voice was tight with urgency.
