Page 171 of Come Break My Heart Again

Elle’s birthday is tomorrow, and I’ve had no idea what to get her. A keychain isn’t a car or diamond earrings, but it’s better than nothing. Representative of this place we’ve only been to together as adults.

A winding staircase leads upstairs to the lookout. As I go up, the circles seem endless, and my lungs and calves are burning by the time I reach the top. I’m in decent shape from lifting lumber and all the other construction work I’ve been doing lately, but it’s been a long time since I did any cardio.

It’s less crowded up here, most people choosing the view from the grass over the one from up here. They’re missing out. It’s stunning, looking out at the water. An endless spread of shimmering blue, spots of white foam appearing and then disappearing.

But the view has nothing on Elle. Her dark hair is being blown in a wild halo around her face, but she seems oblivious as she looks out at the ocean.

My lungs feel tight again, and it has nothing to do with the exertion of climbing what felt like a few hundred stairs.

I’ve been dying to talk to her all day. I’m also dreading it. Because once this conversation takes place, I won’t be able to go back and redo it.

“Hi,” is the super-original greeting I come up with.

Elle doesn’t glance over as I take the spot beside her. She keeps staring straight at the sea. “Hi.”

“Nice view.”

She hums an agreement, I think. It’s hard to hear over the other noise around us. Not only the surf and the wind, but also the guy on my other side, who’s holding a screaming toddler.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“I’m fine,” Elle replies.

Nothing in her voice says she wants to keep talking to me. But I forge ahead anyway. “Areweokay?”

“Yeah.” She glances at me carelessly, like it’s an obligation she only needs a few seconds to fulfill. Her eyes are back on the waves before I can even react, refocused on the horizon.

My fingers tighten on the railing. “Do you … regret it?”

Elle doesn’t answer right away. But I can feel her deliberating, the air around us gaining a new charge of awareness. She wasn’t sure if I’d bring last night up, I think.

“No,” she finally says. “Maybe it needed to happen. Clear the air some.”

I snort. I can’t help it. “You think last nightcleared the air?”

She stays stubbornly silent, watching the ocean like something about the sight is going to change sometime soon.

“Did you read the letter?” I ask. I can’t hold the question in any longer.

“Yes.”

That’sallshe says.Yes.

“And?” I prompt.

“It was nice. Thanks.”

I want to shout. To shake her. Possibly cry because Keira got my hopes up and it feels like they’re dying a slow death.

“Do you think I could make it to the water from here?” I ask.

She’s still—so still—beside me. We’re two statues, staring at the sea.

“I don’t know what you think bringing that up is?—”

“I’mtrying, Elle. I’m trying, and I can’t tell if you want me to. I can’t tell what you want. I need you to tell me, the way I told you in that letter.”

“The one you wrote six years ago?”

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