Page 98 of Rule Breakers Fall Hardest

I nod, wiping my damp palms on my jeans. “All right. We’ll keep waiting, then.”

The thought of not seeing Sammy today makes me want to throw up. I’ve been counting down the days since we scheduled this visitation. But none of us can magically make Danielle show up with him.

Rosie’s gentle hand lands on my back. “Hey,” her soft voice coaxes, “are you okay?”

“I have to be,” I reply, ducking my head.

“Is there anything I can do?”

Shaking my head, I reach for her hand and bring it to my mouth. “No,” I say and press a kiss to her knuckles. “But thank you.”

She gives me a reassuring smile. “Maybe they got stuck in traffic.”

“Maybe.”

Defeated doesn’t even beginto describe how I feel when we get home. I drag myself into the house, and Rosie trails silently behind me. She hasn’t said a word since we left the social services office. She understands that no words can ease the pain in my chest.

They never showed up.

I set the present down on the kitchen counter.

I’ve never wanted a drink more than I do right now, but I ignore the beers in the fridge and instead pull out ingredients for turkey burgers.

“I… uh… I’m going to shower,” Rosie says from the archway.

I jerk my head in a nod. “Dinner will be ready in about an hour.”

She hesitates, like she’s hopeful I’ll say more. When I lower my head and silently continue prepping the food, her footsteps echo on the stairs.

With her gone, I pause, giving myself a moment to break down.

I slam the side of my fist against the counter.

I’m sad. Hurt. Angry.

It’s fucking Christmas Eve, and I didn’t get to see my son.

The stupid fucking present I bought sits mockingly on the island.

I knew this wouldn’t be easy, but I wasn’t anywhere near prepared for all the emotions I’ve been hit with. Maybe this is my punishment for all the times I scoffed when my dad said we’d understand how he’s always felt once we had kids of our own.

I prepare dinner on autopilot, and just as I’m finishing up, Rosie returns. It seems impossible, but she’s beautiful in every state—even in an oversized hoodie and shorts, with her hair damp from the shower.

“You smell good,” I blurt as she steps up beside me. I squeeze my eyes shut. Fuck. I can’t believe I said that out loud.

She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, the move drawing my attention to her makeup-free face. “Thanks.” She shuffles to the fridge and emerges with a can of ginger ale—something I’ve learned she likes to have nightly.

I grab a straw from the drawer and pass it to her.

“Am I that predictable?” She slips it into the can.

I set our plates on the table and take a seat. “I’m learning your quirks.”

“I feel like that should worry me.” She arches a brow as she slides out the chair beside me. “Cozy.” Her arm brushes mine.

“I wanted you close.”

No point in beating around the bush.

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