Page 69 of The Rules We Broke
She gave me that sly smile—one eyebrow raised. “You finally let him have it?”
“You could say that.”
“So, what did he say?”
“Not much.” I shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Jacksons and Eatons don’t mix.”
She looked at me with steady eyes. “Ella Lu, do you still love that Jackson boy?”
I let my head drop, resting it on her bed. “What does it even matter?”
She reached out and threaded her fingers through my hair. “You didn’t answer the question, sugar.”
I exhaled, weary and raw. “Yes. I still love the stupid man.”
She let out something like a laugh, though it was more breath than sound. “So, what’s the problem? You love him. He loves you.”
I lifted my head and studied her. “How do you know that?”
She brushed a knuckle along my cheek. “I asked him.”
My eyes widened. “Why would you do that?”
She didn’t answer—and I knew that look too well. The Eaton art of delay and diversion ran deep.
“So what’s the problem?” she asked again, calm and deliberate.
“Really?” I stared at her. “Are you kidding? Did they put you on something mind-altering?”
“I’m perfectly lucid, Ella Lu, and don’t sass me.”
“I’m not sassing—I’m confused. YouhateBrady Jackson. Youneverwanted us together. And now you’re acting like you’ve changed your mind overnight. Why?”
“You didn’t answer my question.” She wasn’t budging.
I dropped my head back down and sighed. Why couldn’t she ever just give me a straight answer—when I wanted it, how I wanted it? I knew she’d get there eventually. That was her way. But right now, it was maddening.
“Well, let’s start with the obvious. He lied to me, left me, got engaged to the most ridiculous woman ever with an IQ of a tree, and his parents loathe me. Are those good enough reasons?”
She didn’t respond. She just stroked my hair, and I let her. There was comfort in the familiarity. Part of me wanted to climb into the bed beside her and let her make it all better, like she used to.
But this wasn’t something even she could fix.
After several long minutes, I whispered, “Let’s plan a trip. As soon as you’re well enough to travel.”
“Ella Lu, look up at me.”
I obeyed.
Her eyes held so much tenderness it nearly broke me.
“You can’t run away from this.”
“But it’s over,” I murmured. “There’s nothing to run away from.”
She tapped my nose. “Sugar, I don’t think it’s over—for youorthat Jackson boy. I think you both deserve a second chance. Without the constraints. Without the rules.”
I laid my head back down, the ache rising again. I couldn’t believe those words had come out of my aunt’s mouth. But . . . “How could it ever work?”
