Page 134 of Come Break My Heart Again

As soon as I see my mom walking down the hallway, I stop bouncing my knee and stand. I’m jittery and anxious after spending forty-five minutes slouched in a hospital chair that felt like it had no cushion at all.

She heads to the nurses’ station first, exchanging a few words that are wrapped up by the time I reach her side. Purposeful, I’m sure.

Today’s doctor’s appointment is the closest I’ve gotten to concrete answers about my mom’s health. The only reason I even found out about this appointment was that I answered the landline when the hospital called to confirm it.

“Everything go okay?” I ask my mom. Scrutinize the nurse’s reaction.

“Fine,” my mom answers. “Thanks, Nora.”

“Have a great rest of your day, Ms. James,” the nurse—Nora—says cheerily.

I follow my mom outside, inhaling the fresh breeze deeply. The hospital smelled like prison—chemical cleaner and stagnant air. I’d experienced enough of that when I went to visit my former cellmate, Duke, yesterday.

“So, it went well?” I ask as we cross the parking lot.

“It went fine.”

I exhale, exasperated. “What does thatmean, Mom?”

“It means nothing’s changed. I told you coming would be a waste of time.”

“Is it really that unbelievable I wanted to? I’m trying to?—”

“It’s a shit hand, Ryder. I’m stuck playing it out. You’re not.”

“So, I just … what? Leave? Let you deal with it all alone? Is that what you want, Mom?”

She stops alongside her car, shading her eyes as she looks up at me. “Have you seen Elle?”

“Fuck you, Ryder James. Fuck you for not caring and fuck you for acting like I shouldn’t have either.”

Those two sentences have been on an endless loop in my head since she shouted them at me.

I can’t get the look on her face out of my head either. The anger and the pain and also theconviction. She wasn’t just saying it. Shebelievedit. Elle really thinks I stopped caring. That my feelings for her were a switch I flipped off.

I swallow, the span of time since my mom asked the question already stretching too long. “We’ve spoken.”

“And?”

I’m tempted to parrot Elle’snone of your businessline.

Instead, I say, “She’s … she’s planning to visit you on Thursday.”

My mom smiles. The first one I’ve seen since I showed up at the trailer earlier to accompany her here. One of the few I’ve seen at all since I’ve been back.

I figured there was affection there after so many visits. But I’m taken aback by how apparent it is on her face.

We haven’t discussed Elle since my first night home.

“Why aren’t you getting treatment, Mom?” I blurt.

Her smile instantly disappears. “I already told you.”

“Yeah, you told me you weren’t getting treatment. Notwhy.”

“It’s my decision, Ryder.”

“Is it the money? Because I can?—”

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