Page 70 of Unspoken Rules

“I said it was a bad idea,” Cole argues back, but keeps his tone calm.

Well, shit. He’s not wrong. Still hurts though.

“I’m going to go,” I say, turning on my heel.

“No,” Cole barks out, the same time Chris shouts, “Good idea.”

I glance over my shoulder, noting Cole took a step forward like he was ready to chase after me had I left.

He shakes his head, turning his attention to his son. “I think you need to find somewhere to go for the day, Christopher.”

Chris chokes out a disbelieving sound. “Me? You’re kicking me out?” he shouts, taking a few steps towards Cole.

I’ve never seen them fight like this before. Don’t think they’ve ever been physical. It’s a bad idea on Chris’s part. I don’t think Cole would hit his kid, but if Chris goes after him…

Cole could lay him out.

I turn enough to see them, preparing myself to pull them apart if I have to. I won’t let them hit each other. That’ll only make this a hundred times worse than it already is.

“I’m not kicking you out of this house, I just think we need some space. Your drinking is out of control. It’s ten o’clock on a Saturday morning, Christopher. You’re an adult. Why aren’t you acting like one?”

“So is he, and you aren’t kicking him out!” Chris screams, pointing at me.

“He isn’t drunk all the fucking time!” Cole gets in Christopher’s face. “You probably blew the money at the bar and can’t fucking remember!”

Chris grins right in Cole’s face, but nothing about it is happy. It’s a big fuck you. “Fucking excuse me for having a little fun.”

“Having a little fun is going out once a week, not getting trashed every goddamn night,” Cole says, stepping back.

They hold each other’s stare for a long time. I’m holding my breath, watching them. Chris scoffs and takes a step back. I finally fucking breathe.

“Fuck you,” he says to his father before turning his attention on me. “And fuck you too, Bryson.”

He shoulders past me, leaving out the front door.

Cole shakes his head

“Cole—”

“Don’t,” he barks, storming past me. “Just don’t.” He rushes up the stairs, only to return a few minutes later fully dressed. He leaves too, and here I am in a house that no one seems to want me in.

This is fucking great.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Cole

I leave the house and just drive. It does nothing to help the anger. My entire life is spinning out of control.

Never in a million years would I have guessed my most trying time as a parent would be now, when my son is twenty-three years old. People argue over the most difficult times: newborn, toddler, teen. They’re all difficult, don’t get me wrong, especially as a first-time parent. But god, this last year has been hell.

I find myself in Astoria, in front of the bar I found Bryson in. The bar I let all my guards down in and crossed lines that shouldn’t have been crossed. And the problem is now I can’t stop crossing them.

I should. With the way things are with me and Chris, the last thing I need to do is fuck around with his friend. They need each other. But I can’t help that I need Bryson too. Being with him fills an empty space inside me. He lets me care for him, and he does the same in return. Sometimes he argues. Other times he looks at me like he wants to argue but doesn’t. He’s compliant and responsive. He’s talented and smart.

Bryson is good to me. He’s fun and easy to be with. Being with him, I feel like I can breathe. He’s incredible and doesn’t even see it. Instead, he sees flaws. Things I think are perfect, he sees as messy or inadequate. All thanks to his piece of shit father.

How does someone so good come from someone as cruel as Bart Montgomery, yet someone like my son comes from me? I’m not saying my son is a bad person. He’s not. He’s just dealing with stuff. But where does the anger and the drinking come from? Neither his mother nor I are like that. Sure, I drink occasionally, and Tabitha does too, but not like this.

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