Page 80 of Your Rule to Break

I pull my phone out to text her but it slips out of my clammy hands, face down paired with a terrible cracking sound, on the paved walkway. Shards of glass sparkle in the sunlight—a bad fucking sign for me. I hesitantly pick it up, praying to anyone who will listen that the glass was already there and not from my phone. When I turn it over, it’s nothing but a black screen with a corner completely missing, showing me the inside of my phone, something you shouldn’t ever see.

“This isn’t fucking ideal,” I groan, shaking it out enough to put it in my pocket.

Brooks watches me and tries to help. “You can use mine.”

I don’t know Emilie’s phone number. Fuck.

We walk in silence together and find a café. I don’t know if I’m making the right call, my stomach thick with knots and doubt. We slip into a booth, almost hidden and tucked away from the rest.

I refuse to talk first.

Brooks takes a long drink from his glass of water. “I grew up with a single mom. She never dated and never talked about my dad, no matter how many times I asked. I thought maybe she didn’t know? That I was the product of a one-night-stand or some shit. A few months ago, I was helping clean out her house to move her into a new one. Contract money, you know?”

I do know. It’s the first thing I tried to do for my family when I had enough.

“I was cleaning the attic and found a box. It had a few pictures of her and this man. I didn’t think it was anything until I read some of the letters that were in there.” He clears his throat before looking up at me, his fingers playing with the straw wrapper. “They were in envelopes, not sealed, but with a stamp and an address. Like, she was going to send them but never did. I read a few of them, and it was her telling Chris about me.” Brooks gets his phone out, looking for something. After a few seconds, he places it down in front of me.

No fucking way.

It’s my dad but from another lifetime—at least twenty years ago—with a woman. My eyes fill with tears, out of surprise or maybe fear for what this means.

“I told my mom I found the box. She came clean. Told me that he was my dad, and he didn’t know I existed. Apparently, they met when he was on the outs with his wife before he was married. When they met up, he told her he worked things out, and that he couldn’t see her anymore.”

I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand.

“It was easy to find him, considering he still lives in the same house.”

He shows me his phone, a picture of an envelope with my address on it.

“You’re my brother,” I say mostly to myself.

“I called him, we set up a time to meet, and at first he was so upset. Like pissed off. Angry. It doesn’t matter that I had a great life and did well for myself. I don’t hold it against the guy for not knowing, but I would like to know him now. He sort of panicked. We were supposed to meet up when he came to one of your away games, but he bailed last minute.”

The night we went to dinner comes roaring back. He was anxious in the hotel lobby because he thought Brooks was going to show up.

Fuck.

“Do you believe me?” he asks, his voice smaller than before.

“Yeah. I do. I just, my brain. It can’t focus on one thing and—”

“I’ll cut to the chase. I’m not going to tell anyone. Not the press. Not anyone else. I’m an only child. I do want to know him now, if that’s an option.”

“How old are you?” I ask, trying to put a timeline together.

“Just turned twenty-five.”

That means he was born between Riley and me.Fuck. I was born before my parents were married, but I wonder if my mom knew my dad met someone else. I mean, the timeline isn’t a secret. My blood runs cold but my heartbeat beats hard and fast.

“That makes you my younger brother.”

“I guess so,” Brooks replies, focusing on the condensation of the glass.

I don’t know how long we sit there in silence. I think about my dad the last few months, the erratic behavior. How this must be killing him. If he truly didn’t know, this would be devastating to hear.

My brain runs from one thought to the next.

“Well, it’s good to meet you… I think.” I reach for a handshake. “I don’t know what the rules are for something like this.”