Page 18 of Rules We Break

“No, it just—it caught me off guard. I don’t think you’ve ever brought it up before. I figured it would have in the time we spent together.”

She shrugs and takes another bite of barbecue.

“Like I said, I’m not here to convert you. I believe in God, you don’t. Not a big deal, Gregory.” She gives me a teasing look.

“You never said anything about Pyro and his…situation.” I can’t get past it. I grew up in a religious family, and I know just how intolerant they can be. Especially when it comes to people like Pyro, Owen, and Aurora. But she never said a thing. She always accepted them like they were people.

It’s such a stark difference to what I’m used to it’s hard to connect the dots in my mind.

“Why wouldn’t I?” she asks. “They’re people. I’m not a bigot or a homophobe. People can love whoever the hell they want to love, and they’re still loved by my God. If God made everyone in his image, that means he made Hudson and Owen and Aurora. He made you and me. So there’s no reason to treat anyone any differently. That’s just ignorance.”

“I’m sorry.” I can tell my line of questioning and my obvious doubt in her character has fucked with her a bit. Her mood is down, and she’s not really looking at me. “Hey, Ivy.”

She looks up at me.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insinuate you were a bad person. It was a gut reaction. I was just taken by surprise.”

“I feel like you’ve known me for long enough that you know my character,” she says, her face serious. “Just because I happen to believe in something doesn’t change anything about me.”

“You’re right.” I reach across the little gap in between us where all the food sits and squeeze her hand. “I was stupid. I’m sorry. I’m just not used to seeing a Christian be so open-minded.”

“We’re out there,” she says, her smile coming back. “You just have to look a little harder. The assholes tend to outshine us.”

I sit up on my knees and lean over to kiss her. She tastes tangy and sweet.

“What about Wes? Where is he these days?”

I plop back down on my side. “God, I don’t even remember. They’re off in South America somewhere, I think. I think they’ve been home in California maybe twice in the past year. They are constantly on the move.”

“They’re happy though,” she says with a wistful smile.

I return it. “They are. Everyone is.”

“And you?” Her eyes flit to me and back to her food. “Are you happy?”

I shrug. “I’ve been as happy as I can be. If I’m honest, ever since things with us ended, I’ve been sort of…confused? Not sure if that’s the right word. I don’t know. I’m just not really sure what I’m doing.”

“In life or in work?”

“Life. Work, I love. You know I love this job. But I watch all of my friends and their partners and the families that they’re building. And I guess I’m just starting to feel a bit on the outs.”

“It’s hard being the last one in the group to not beattached.” She uses air quotes on the last word. “It happened with me a lot. Lost a lot of friends because of it. Not in any malicious sort of way. But we just drifted apart. Interests change, and it’s hard to not feel like the third wheel everywhere you go.”

God, I can hear the sadness in her voice. My friends do a really good job of not making me feel left out. I’m always hanging out with them, going to their houses or vice versa. We do so much shit together, and they make sure not to treat me any differently. But I can see what she means about changing interests. I find myself not knowing how to talk about diapers or tricks to get pregnant.

At the end of the day though, they’re still my family. I can’t imagine losing them, and to know Ivy has gone through that multiple times is fucking sad. She has given up so much for this career. No wonder she’s ready to retire early. Shit, she has the money for it.

“I’m sorry, Ivy. That shit is hard.”

She shrugs and grins at me. “It is. But I’m hoping it’s going to get a little easier. Retiring, maybe keeping in touch with you…if you’d like that.”

I try to get her to look at me, but she is really finding that food interesting. I pick up a still-sealed plastic fork and knife packet and chuck it at her. And I have a phenomenal aim. That thing hits her right in the center of her forehead. She gasps and looks up at me, a shocked smile on her open mouth.

“That was rude.”

“You wouldn’t look at me. And I wanted you to be looking at me when I answered your question.”

“What question?” She raises an eyebrow.

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