Page 6 of The Rules We Broke
Pastor Norton started in on us, solemn and exhausted. He quoted commandments, preached about honoring thy parents, and told us how disappointed he was. Then, his gaze shifted between Brady and me.
“I want you to promise me—and your parents—that you won’t see each other again.”
I broke. Tears spilled over, because I couldn’t imagine a life without Brady. I loved him.
Brady shot up from his chair. “I will not,” he declared. “I love her.”
His momma erupted into hysterics. His daddy launched another storm of expletives.
“Look what you’ve done to your momma!” he roared. “Over anEaton girl,of all things! An Eaton girl with a daddy who died a drunk and a momma who didn’t even want her. How could you, Brady?”
Those words cut deep.
I knew everyone in town knew about my parents—whispers had always followed me like shadows.
But polite people never said anything.
Not out loud.
And that was exactly what set my Aunt Lu off.
No matter what I’d done, she would never let my name be dragged through the mud.
She stood up with beauty queen poise and steel-spined confidence, eyes locked on Mr. Jackson. The man who broke her heart all those years ago.
“Well,” she said, voice cool and lethal, “maybe you’d like to tell Brady about your shotgun wedding—and how premature babies weigh nine pounds.”
Mrs. Jackson gasped. I honestly thought she might faint.
Mr. Jackson stood, face drained of color.
For a moment, no one breathed.
He stared back at Aunt Lu as if he didn’t know what to say—or how to fight someone who didn’t flinch.
Pastor Norton cleared his throat, awkward and outmatched. “Please . . . everyone take a seat.”
In the middle of the chaos, Brady and I couldn’t stop looking at each other.
“I’m sorry,” he mouthed.
“Me, too,” I mouthed back.
Pastor Norton turned toward me, his gaze stern.
“You’ve been quiet through all of this. What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?” Like it was all my fault. Like I’d lured Brady into some kind of trap.
I’d always suspected Pastor Norton leaned toward the left side of his congregation—looked like I wasn’t wrong.
His tone lit a fire inside me.
I sat up tall, wiped the tears off my cheeks, and spoke as clearly as I could. “I’m sorry for lying to my aunt.”
I gazed straight at her. “I love you, Aunt Lu.”
She offered me a half smile. The kind that said I wasn’t forgiven—but I was still loved.
I turned toward Brady, my voice stronger now. “But I love Brady, too. And we haven’t done anything to be ashamed of.”
