Page 22 of Falling for Mr. Wrong (The Rules We Break #2)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Damien

I turn the mower off and motion for her to join me on the porch. She rests against the railing, and I hang back at the steps. I can’t make myself move any closer to her. If I do, I might lose my nerve and completely back out of what I’m about to say.

Her brows draw together, a question in her eyes. “What is it?”

I take a breath that doesn’t do a damn thing to steady me. “I want to tell you about Aaron.”

Her expression freezes, and I know there’s no going back now. So I just let it out.

“I was mad at him,” I start, the words tasting like rust. “We were in the garage, just hanging out, and he kept pushing for Colton to take you out. He knew that guys at school were talking about you, and he wanted to make sure you were taken care of. That’s when I told him I liked you, Lyla.”

Her eyes widen. “Wh—what did he say?”

“He laughed. He said he loved me, but there was no way I could be with his sister. That you deserved a good guy, not the troublemaker that I was. That he didn’t trust me with you.”

I look at the ground for a second, because her gaze feels like it’s burning through me.

“I got pissed. Wanted to prove I didn’t give a damn what he thought.

So… I seduced his girlfriend. Made out with her at a party that night.

Thought it’d get under his skin. Thought I was just making a point. So fucking stupid.”

Her lips part, but she doesn’t speak.

“He found out. And Aaron was already… struggling. I knew he’d been fighting depression, but I didn’t think…” My voice cracks, and I have to swallow hard. “He wrote a note, Lyla. Said he was going to end it all.”

I can still see that storm in my mind. The rain pounding the road as I tore through town, reading and rereading that note in my head, looking for him in every shadow.

“I found him,” I say, my voice raw. “He was standing right on the edge of the cliffs, waves crashing below. I got to him before he jumped. Talked him down. I told him I was sorry and that I’d been a total dick. I promised him that I’d stay away from you, just like he wanted. And he… he hugged me.”

I close my eyes because the next part never gets easier.

“We were walking back to my car, I was going to bring him back to your house when that truck skid off the road… it all just happened so fast. I tried to grab him, but…” My throat locks, and I shake my head. “One second he was standing next to me and the next… he was gone.”

I finally look at her. Her face is pale, her eyes wet, and it kills me.

“I’ve felt guilty every damn day since,” I tell her. “Not just because I lost my best friend, but because I made him a promise. And I broke it the second I kissed you.”

I knew this would break her.

I just didn’t think it would feel like it’s breaking me too.

Her knees seem to buckle under her, and she stumbles back a step. I catch her arm before she can retreat any further, but she jerks away like my touch burns.

“No,” she whispers, shaking her head. “No, you’re lying—”

“I wish I was,” I say quietly. “I should’ve told you a long time ago.”

Her eyes are glassy, red at the rims. “You let me… you let me go years without knowing my own brother—” Her voice cracks hard, and she bites it back, pressing the heel of her hand to her forehead.

The guilt twists sharper in my gut. “Colton texted me this morning,” I admit, my voice low. “Said if I didn’t tell you, he would. Said it wasn’t right for you to be with me without knowing everything.”

At the mention of Colton, something flickers in her eyes — but it’s gone just as fast, swallowed by the fresh grief and shame rippling off her.

“I didn’t see it,” she says, more to herself than to me. “I didn’t see he was that bad. I didn’t see the signs. I was his sister and I didn’t see—”

“Lyla.” I step closer, my chest aching at the hollow look in her eyes. “It wasn’t your fault.”

She lets out a bitter laugh, wet with tears. “And it wasn’t yours, right? But you’ve been carrying it like it was.”

I scrub a hand over my jaw. “Come inside.”

She doesn’t move for a second, but then she follows, slow and stiff. Inside the Lawson house, I pull my wallet from my back pocket, fingers digging into the worn leather until I find the thin, folded square of paper I’ve carried for a decade.

I hold it out to her.

Her brows pull together. “What is this?”

“The note,” I say quietly. “He left it in my truck before he went to the cliffs.”

She takes it like it might crumble in her hands, unfolding it with trembling fingers. I can’t watch her read it, so I turn away, staring at the floor, my own throat tight all over again.

When she finally looks up at me, tears are streaming freely down her face. And I know there’s no taking back what I’ve just done.

She folds the note back up with slow, deliberate movements, like her hands are the only part of her body she can control right now.

I take a step toward her. “Lyla—”

“Don’t,” she says, her voice so quiet I almost don’t catch it. She doesn’t look at me, just stares down at the paper in her hands.

The space between us feels cold.

I want to close it anyway. Want to take the note from her, crush it, tell her none of this matters because he’s gone and we’re still here. But I don’t.

Because she takes another step back, and that hurts worse than the storm that night.

Her shoulders draw in, her whole frame tightening like she’s trying to hold herself together from the inside out.

“I just… I need a minute,” she says, blinking hard.

I nod, even though everything in me wants to argue. Wants to tell her a minute won’t be enough, that I can’t stand here and watch her shut me out.

But I promised myself I’d give her the truth. And now that she has it, I have to give her the space too.

Without saying another word, she slips past me, the faint scent of her shampoo lingering in her wake, and moves like a ghost across the street to her house.

Aaron’s house.

And the sound of her front door closing feels final in a way I’m not entirely ready for.