Page 100 of Come Break My Heart Again

“I’m trying to be understanding. I am. I’m just … do you evenwantto be in a relationship with me?”

“Of course.”

He shakes his head. “There’s noof course, Elle. Not after the way you’ve been acting lately.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to?—”

Prescott exhales heavily. “I don’t want you to apologize. I want you to … care, I guess. I want to feel like I’m not the only one invested in us.”

“I do care, Pres. You’re important to me.”

“Important …” He muses on the word like he’s never heard it before. “I’m important to you, but you’ve never looked at me the way you were looking at Ryder tonight.”

“We have some history, is all.”

“And what was theonly childthing? What did I step into there?”

I close my eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

This isn’t how I want to tell him about Rose, as part of an argument.

“Has anything happened between you and Ryder?”

“I’m not acheater.” And two martinis were enough to punctuate that statement with plenty of righteous indignation.

“Felt like I was getting cheated on most of tonight.”

I suck in a sharp breath. “Wow.”

“Not just … Ryder. All of your friends. You’ve kept us totally separate from your world. All the inside jokes and the awkward silences when they figured out how fucking clueless I was …”

“You’re making it sound way worse than it was.”

“Am I?”

Is he? I don’t know. I was distracted by Ryder the entire time, his parting words bouncing around my head the rest of the night.

Prescott stops the car in front of my brownstone a couple of minutes later. “I think we’re done, Elle,” he tells me quietly. “Just … done.”

The words hurt, but not the way they should. Not the searing agony I’ve experienced twice before.

It stings like salt in a wound. Unpleasant, but not life-threatening. Temporary. I know the pain will be gone soon.

I feel guilty for hurting Prescott.

And I’m angry with myself for my inability to be normal. To move on.

But I’m not heartbroken.

“That guy, Elle? Really?”

Thegallof him to judge my relationship. To take one look at a nice, reliable guy and decide he’s wrong for me. And worse, for that snap judgment to be right.

“I’m so sorry, Pres,” I say softly. “Truly. I-Inevermeant to hurt you.”

Prescott heaves a sigh. “I know.”

I hope he does. Hope he’s not just saying so.

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