Page 75 of The Rules We Broke
His voice dipped even lower.
“And for one second, I thought I was going to get to.”
He let that moment hang in the air between us.
“That night, I told myself I was done pretending I didn’t love you. I was ready to fight for us. I even thought about asking you to elope when you turned eighteen.”
I turned to face him. “Are you serious?”
He cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing softly along the line of my jaw. “Dead serious. Ellie, you were and are my dream. My football career, awards, and life meant nothing to me because I didn’t have you to share them with.”
“Why didn’t you?” I begged to know. I’m not sure I would have eloped, but I at least wanted to know what had stopped him.
He exhaled slowly, gaze darkening. “The look you gave me after your name was announced that night killed me. I could see the hate and hurt in your eyes, and what was worse, I knew I caused it. I knew you wouldn’t take me back. Then school ended, and it was like you disappeared.”
A tear slipped down my cheek.
Brady lovingly wiped it away.
“I thought running away would help me forget about you, but I never could.”
He tilted my face toward his, his lips brushing mine with reverence. “I could never forget you,” he whispered against my mouth. “And I didn’t want to. You’re part of me, Ellie. The best part.”
It should’ve felt perfect. But I needed answers.
“What about Amber?” I asked, gently cutting through the moment.
“What about her?”
“I know you, Brady. You wouldn’t marry someone unless you loved them. You had to have loved her.” Even saying the words made me feel ill.
He rested his forehead against mine and exhaled. “No,” he breathed. “I didn’t love her.”
I didn’t speak. Didn’t press. Confused, yes—but something told me to let it rest. To give the silence room to breathe. To givehimroom. And I didn’t mind the nearness or the quiet. It reminded me of the nights we used to lie wrapped in each other, no words needed. Just heartbeats and shared breaths. Just us—soaking each other in like summer air.
While he sat in silence, I reached up and ran my fingers through his thick hair, now several shades darker than I remembered. It had deepened over the years—more like mine now. I loved the feel of it. He must have, too.
He lifted both hands to mine, threading his fingers through mine and guiding them back to rest between us. “I’ve missed you doing that,” he murmured. “I’ve missed everything about you.”
His eyes held mine. “Ellie, how could I ever love anyone else when my heart had been claimed by you when I was barely old enough to even know what love was?”
He kissed me to verify those words. “Ellie,” he said quietly, “I didn’t love her. And I didn’t ask her to marry me.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could, he gently placed a finger against my lips. He knew me too well.
He grinned—not cocky, just a little sad. “She and my momma cooked up the idea. They thought an engagement announcement would calm the media storm after her Miss America scandal.”
He paused, letting it settle.
“And they were right. It worked.”
His tone dipped.
“I didn’t even buy the ring.”
He sounded so beaten up.
I pushed against his chest, needing to see his face more clearly. “Why would you go along with that?”
