Page 135 of Come Break My Heart Again

“It’s not the money,” she tells me. “It’s—that’s not how I want to spend my last days. Doctors don’t think it’ll make much difference anyway.”

“They don’t know that for sure. It’ll makesomedifference at the very least,” I argue.

Her chin lifts. “I’ve made my decision. If you want to fuss over something, plenty to keep you occupied in your own life.”

No need to guess what she’s referring to.

“Elle and I are over,” I tell her.

Removing myself from Elle’s life was the best thing I could have done for her. I didn’t know she would be on Martha’s Vineyard. I didn’t know she’d be at that fancy bar in Boston. Tuck neglected to mention she’d be there when we returned the tools to his garage last week.

I’vetriedto stay away.

My mom sniffs. “I don’t think that lawyer is right for her. They sound too similar.”

“They broke up,” I confess like an idiot. I’m trying to put a fire out, not add kindling.

I don’t mention the twenty minutes, but I think it. It’s probably fucked up that I’m a little proud of that. I barely even spoke to Elle during that window.

It would be different if the guy made her happy. She looked uncomfortable for most of the twenty minutes I was there, although that might have been because of me and not her boyfriend.

“Really?” My mom looks thrilled about my impulsive confession.

Damn kindling.

“It doesn’t change anything, Mom. We’re over—for good.”

“You’re too young to decide anything isfor good, Ryder.”

I exhale. “Elle didn’t decide not to visit me in prison, okay? She tried—tried hard. I … I refused to see her.”

A pause.

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t want her to see me like that. I didn’t want her coming to that place. I had nothing to offer her. I never really did. But there, I truly hadnothing.”

“Did you tell her that? Explain?”

“No. I needed her to let go. She would have argued, pushed back. Elle’s stubborn.”

“She’s also entitled to her own feelings,” my mom says sagely.

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

I recall Elle sitting on steps with hunched shoulders. Staring at the ocean with a lost expression on her face. Standing in Tuck and Keira’s kitchen last week with a suspicious sheen covering her blue eyes.

All scenes so, so different from how I thought she’d look seven years later.

Reese wasn’t the only one wrong about Elle’s feelings for me.

“She hates me.”

Rather than agree, my mom laughs. “Bullshit.”

“She does. She should.”

“She showed up for seven years. Those visits weren’t for me. Or for Cormac.”

---