Page 6 of The Ruckup
I might look like my dad, but growing up I was always closer to my mom. That's probably why it hit me so fucking hard when I figured out the dynamics of my parents’ marriage. The unfairness and imbalance had me seeing my dad in a whole different light.
When I confronted him about it, he tried to feed me some bullshit about the way he was raised. That almost made it worse. Him trying to push blame onto someone else instead of stepping up and taking action changed everything.
I love him, but I've never been able to look at him the same. If he loved my mom the way he claimed, he wouldn't expect all the shit he does. He wouldn’t let her carry the entire load of their existence. Regardless of how he was raised.
Maddie studies me for a second before her eyes drift to where her dad stands. "My parents are pretty much the same." She goes back to staring at her hands, entirely focused on thespot where one dark pink fingernail picks at the cuticle of her thumb. "Growing up, I always thought they had the perfect relationship."
I wait for her to continue. When she doesn't, I prompt, "And now?"
Slowly, she refocuses on my face. "Now I know that it might not be perfect, but it could be so much worse."
A pit forms in my gut. Hard and sharp and cold as ice. "Do you know how much worse it could be from experience?"
Mattie's chin dips, eyes darting away from me. "I do."
The admission explains so much.
The change in her personality. The sadness in her eyes. The hint of fragility that drew me to her side.
It also explains the familiar need to protect her coursing through my veins.
In all honesty, it’s always been there. Even when we were kids, Maddie was always too sweet. Too kind. Too gentle. It made me stick close when she was around so I could make sure no one fucked with her. That none of my friends acted like the idiots they were.
Unfortunately, more than a couple did, leading me to end those friendships with a fist to their dumbass faces.
The urge to repeat history is strong. But I have no clue whose face I need to punch since Maddie and I drifted apart as we got older. I wouldn’t have the first clue who she might have married.
But I sure as hell want to find out.
One of my parents’ friends amps up the volume of the story he’s telling the group of men about the time he got hit on by ‘a ten’ when he was on a work trip and turned her down. I know it’s all bullshit since the only way ‘a ten’ would hit on his pudgy, balding ass was with her car. And it has me gritting my teeth, wondering if my dad has ever spewed similar bullshit trying to sound impressive.
I want to leave. To get the fuck out of this place. But I can’t. My best friend is here somewhere, and the list of questions I’ll have to answer about ducking out early will be never ending.
Plus, I won’t leave Maddie on her own.
Leaning close as the noise of drunk men full of their own idiocy becomes ear splitting, I make a proposition I’m positive is a bad fucking idea. “Would you like to go somewhere a little quieter?”
I half expect her to turn me down. But, without hesitation, Maddie shifts to the edge of the cushion, her soft hand gripping mine tight as she stands. “Yes, please.”
3
Those Who Wear Glass Houses Shouldn’t Throw Stones
Maddie
MY HEART IS in my throat as I follow Leo down a darkened hall branching off the main living area of the two-story house I spent more than a few days of my childhood visiting. It’s been years since I was here, but even then, I was never in this area of his parents’ home, so I have no clue where he’s taking me.
And I don’t really care.
If I’ve learned anything from almost dying at the hands of my ex-husband, it’s that life is short and happiness is fleeting. So I’m going to grab every bit of good I can find in the days I’m still lucky enough to have.
And Leo is lookingreallygood.
He’s filled out since the last time our paths crossed, but he still has that same crooked grin and easy demeanor I remember from when we were kids. They’re a big part of why I harbored a little bit of a crush on him when I was younger.
Based on what I know now, younger me was way smarter than older me.
“In here.” Leo’s voice is hushed as he pushes through a closed door, leading me into a room that’s even darker than the hall. I walk inside, blinking a few times as he shuts the door behind me, adjusting to both the difference in light and the change in volume.
