Page 118 of The Breaking Point

I snorted. “Tell that to my mom,” I said darkly.

“Your mama? She loved you. Mamas always love their kids.”

The old man wiped his eyes. “My mama, God bless her soul. My daddy died, and then she was stuck raising six kids on her own. She married a bastard because she needed the money. He beat her up all the time. When I’d tell her we could run away, she’d tell me it’d be all right and just went back to takin’ care of us all.”

“That’s awful,” I said, unsure what to say.

“Only good thing my stepdaddy did was die. Anyway, what was my point?” The old man stared off into the distance for so long I assumed he’d forgotten what he’d even been talking about.

“I remember now.” He wagged a finger in my face. “Your mama loved you. Even when she drank. My mama drank because it was better than feelin’. I don’t blame her for it. Now, I do it, too. It’s shitty, but it is what it is. But don’t be like us, hangin’ on to the past. That’s what I’m sayin’.”

I nodded. I was already too drunk for any philosophizing, although I sort of understood where the old man was coming from. That didn’t mean letting go would be easy—or if I could even do it.

My phone rang, interrupting this strange conversation. It was Mac.

I answered, trying to sound sober, but it took all of five seconds before Mac realized what was wrong.

“I’m coming to get you,” he said before hanging up.

Mac showed up shortly after. He took one look at me and hauled me up. “I’m driving you home,” he said.

I laughed because this felt like Julia all over again. “Don’t lecture me, though,” I mumbled as I staggered to Mac’s car.

“I’m worried about you, man.” Mac helped me into the passenger seat. “What is going on with you? You get arrested for assault and drinking, and now you’re back to drinking again?”

The world was spinning. I knew it was from the alcohol, so I closed my eyes and hoped it would stop soon.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I admitted.

Mac hadn’t started his car. My head lolled to the side as I looked over at him. My body felt so heavy all of a sudden.

“Brady, talk to me. Please. You’re freaking me out,” said Mac.

Even in my drunken haze, I could tell my best friend was genuinely worried about me. That realization made me feel worse about myself.

Why did I keep causing the people I loved so much pain? They didn’t deserve that.

I didn’t even realize that I’d started crying. And then I was sobbing and bawling like a baby. Mac just sat with me and let me cry, not saying a word but simply being there when I needed him.

I told him everything: about Ben, the car crash, the keys, Coach’s demand that I keep my part in the tragedy silent. How Grace found out and wouldn’t talk to me now. How I didn’t know how my life had fallen apart so quickly.

Mac sighed. “God, man. I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

“I don’t deserve my career, or Grace. I know that.” I swiped at my face, tired of crying. “So why do I keep hoping things will change?”

Mac frowned. “Whoever said you didn’t deserve those things? That’s bullshit. Besides, does Grace know that Coach made you keep that whole thing secret?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think it’d make a difference at this point.”

“Uh, yeah, I do think it would.” Mac’s gaze was intense now. “Grace thinks you were lying to her because you were a coward, not because you wanted to respect her dad’s wishes. She needs to knoweverything.”

I wanted to believe Mac, but at this point, I didn’t know what to believe. For all I knew, telling Grace about her dad swearing me to secrecy would only make things worse.

“Coach was the closest thing you had to a dad. Of course you listened to him. I mean, it sounds like he didn’t even give you a choice,” Mac pointed out.

“You didn’t see Grace or hear what she said. She wouldn’t even let me touch her. It was like she was looking at a stranger.”

“Well, maybe things won’t change. But what do you have to lose at this point?”

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