Breaking the Rules
Page 81

“Just like you?” I ask, with a slight tease, and Echo blushes. I’m getting to her. I’m slowly sliding past the hurt to her heart. One step at a time. “Keep going.”
“A king took on a second wife.” The statement strangled with sarcasm. “And she hated the daughter and son that he had conceived from a previous marriage.”
I kick at a stone, and it bounces off the wall before it lands next to a protruding rock at the bottom. That’s a long way down. “Is that how you feel about Ashley?”
I expect a fast yes, but Echo winces. “No. It used to be, but no...I used to believe she hated me, but...anyhow...the stepmother devised this plan where the son was going to be sacrificed, and the son’s mother prayed to Zeus for him to stop it and Zeus sent Aires, the golden ram, to save them.”
“So this is one of the good stories.” Not like Echo’s name where the girl loses her voice then fades away into nothing.
“No...” Echo pauses. “It’s not. Aires saves the brother and the sister, but the girl still falls to her death, while the boy lived.” She trails off, and the wind whips through the trees, through Echo’s hair, and I hate that it pushes in the direction of over.
“Do you know what I used to think?” she asks.
I think I want her away from the edge. “What?”
“That the brother had to be mad at Aires.”
“Why?”
Echo’s eyes harden into stone. “Aires’s one job was to save both of them, and he only saved one.”
“I’m mad at my mom.” Damn me to hell, I said the words. I admitted it, and the guilt of feeling this way about someone I loved and who is dead destroys me. “I’m mad my mom didn’t tell me about her family. I’m mad at both of my parents for not having a will. For not figuring out their shit enough to secure a future for me and my brothers in case they died. I’m fucking pissed that they didn’t change the batteries in the fire detectors, and I’m even more fucking pissed that they died.”
My chest pumps rapidly, and I can’t control the intake of air. Echo seems to mimic the same ability to not breathe, and her hand goes to the nape of her neck as if she can wrench free the invisible noose. “I can’t be mad.”
“Why not?” I shout. “Because I am. And here’s the thing. It doesn’t change that I loved them.”
I dig deep, thinking of what my uncle said. It’s not my fault my parents died. My mother would be proud of me...even if I’m pissed. Especially that I’m pissed. “Being mad doesn’t change that they died. Not being mad, acting like they were perfect...it doesn’t bring them back.”
A sob racks Echo’s body, and she slams her hand over her mouth to prevent it, but it doesn’t stop. Her entire body shudders, and she wipes at the tears as if that one act will wipe away the pain she’s been harboring since her brother died.
“Then what will bring them back?” Echo begs. “Because I’m terrified to go forward thinking that this is what it feels like to lose, and going forward means that I’ll always lose something. I can’t lose like this again. I can’t.”
“You can!” I force myself to soften my voice. “You can.”
I reach out, the need to touch her overwhelming me, and this time when I move forward, she doesn’t step back. My fingers caress her sweet face. As Echo always does, she fits perfectly.
“You can,” I repeat. “Remember what I told you. We’ve been through too much for something like this to get us down. For anything to get us down.”
She rocks her head in a no, as if she doesn’t believe me.
“We’re going to lose again,” I tell her. “It doesn’t matter if we walk away from each other now or in seventy years after we’ve had ten kids and fifty grandkids. Someday, one of us is going to go. Either by choice or death. Everyone we love meets the same fate. You and I, we know this. We can either run from it and let it decide our future for us, or we can say fuck it and live for this moment now. I’m done permitting anything other than me to control my life.
“You told me that I wouldn’t be happy if I was changing for you. You’re right. But the changes you’ve seen, the changes that will be coming, they’re happening because I want them. I want to be an architect because I want to build you that house. I want to build a lot of houses. I want a lot of things out of life, Echo, and I want you with me when I do them. The question is...can you put up with me when I fuck up and go asshole?”
With tears cascading down her face, Echo laughs. “You are the only person who is capable of apologizing while using profanity and it still sounds sweet.”
Using my thumbs, I dry the tears from her face. “Damn straight, baby.”
The fleeting smile falls. “I miss Aires, and I’m mad at him. I feel so awful that I’m mad at him.”
“Me, too. Maybe Mrs. Collins will be into that group therapy crap with the two of us.”
She giggles and leans into my chest. My arms wrap around Echo, and I’ve never felt so relieved in my life. Her soft body holding on to mine, her scent filling each intake of air. I kiss the top of her head. I’ve never belonged with anyone like I belong with Echo.
“I love you,” she whispers. “I love you, and I’d prefer to do the whole kid and grandkid thing, but I love you enough that I’ll stay with you even if we last for six more months.”
“We’re the long haul,” I tell her.
“Even if we aren’t. I’m going to stop questioning when it ends because you’re right. It does all end. The question I should ask is what I’m going to do with the time in between.”
Which brings me to what’s going to kill my pride...possibly kill me. “You’re wrong. You did get something from this summer.”
“What’s that?” she mumbles into my chest.
I comb my fingers through her silky hair. It’s an automatic gesture. One I’ve done a million times. With this statement, the act will no longer be one I get to take for granted. “You get to study for a full year under one of the best artists in the country. It got you into one of the biggest art shows of the year.”
Echo pulls back to look at me, and a hint of happiness lights her face. “You do listen.”
“Baby,” I say, exasperated. “I listen to every damn thing that falls out of your mouth. Your every sigh. Every small, sexy sound when we kiss and every hitch of your breath when you sleep. Echo...”