Page 85 of Unwritten Rules

I nod, eagerly waiting for him to continue in my excitement to see what’s inside.

“This past year of trying to help you move past the pain of taking a life—”

I flinch openly, suddenly sorry I agreed to hear this story. “Nate, I—”

“No, Mila. Give me three minutes, tops. I promise that what I say will help you feel a little less alone.”

The sincerity in his hypnotic, almost black eyes is powerful enough that I just nod once more.

“When I was seven, my dad took me deer hunting – it’s very much expected in the world I was raised to be a part of, you see. When I refused to take a clear shot at a young buck, I began to cry, sobbing that I didn’t want to take the life of a living creature. My father—”

He breaks off for a second, clears his throat, and drops his eyes to his hand resting on my shin.

“My wonderful father held a loaded shotgun to my forehead, whispering that he’d pull the trigger if I didn’t do as I had been told.”

He snorts darkly, lost in his reminiscence. “Said it was my duty as a Hawthorne to uphold our familial beliefs.”

Oblivious to my shocked gasp, Nate goes on.

“I was only seven, you know? I’d not yet stood up to him. I hadn’t known how to. And upon this occasion, with a literal gun to my head, I didn’t stand up to him either. I squeezed the trigger and made my first kill. I threw up everywhere. All over myself, his shoes – I remember he got so fucking mad.”

His eyes have a glassy effect as he raises them back up to find mine.

“I’m sharing this with you because I want you to know I understand how you feel. I know how it feels to take a life to save another. And I want you to understand that this gift is just a small token to help you remember that you’re not alone, okay?”

Tears sting my eyes, but I nod several times before he gestures to the unopened gift.

“You may open it now, littlest DeMarco.”

Slowly, I tear the wrapping away to find a large, white lacquered gift box. I hesitantly lift the lid, my mouth breaking into a huge-ass grin when I see the contents.

Inside is the softest plush cream and caramel-coloured reindeer called Mitzi, judging by the Jellycat label attached.

“You’re not alone, Mila.”

* * *

“Nate didn’t have a good example of romantic love in his early years. His mother died when he was ten, but she was constantly unwell during her life, so there was only one Hawthorne heir and no spare.”

Vivienne’s softly-spoken words draw me from my recollection.

“I’d wondered, but he doesn’t really mention his upbringing.”

“He’s fortunate to have found such an amazing family with Caden and Henry, yes? I know the friendship those three share has been the most important part of his life for longer than you’ve even been alive.”

“And what does that have to do with—”

“The point I’m making, my dear…” Vivienne peers intently into my eyes, saying everything and more with just that look before she continues. “Is that you must forgive him for warring with his conscience and his feelings. His dutiful upbringing, his bond with his brothers in arms, his encroaching attraction to you – he’s in a state of constant turmoil. He’s close to the edge.”

A wry smile grows on her pretty face, and a myriad of hopeful butterflies bursts to life in the depths of my stomach when she voices her thoughts.

“All he needs is a little push.”

CHAPTER 25

NATE

Having spent over an hour searching for Mila in and around Valentine’s, I’d eventually received an email from her.