Come Break My Heart Again

by C. W. Farnsworth

  Studying that messy brown hair and meeting those forest green eyes, I feel like no time has passed at all. Like it’s only been a matter of weeks since I came here for the first time, hoping to see him.

  I feel like I should be hugging him. Kissing him. I wonder if that’s evident on my face because there’s a flash of something besides total indifference.

  “Why?” I ask. Because that’s all I need to know. Because I’ve waited seven years to voice that solitary word.

  Any emotion drains away like his face has become a sieve. “It doesn’t matter.” The words are dead. Empty. Detached. As though I’m not referring to an event that altered both of our lives drastically.

  “Doesn’t matter?” I compensate for his lack of emotion by sounding near-hysterical. “Are you fucking kidding me, Ryder?” It’s been a long time since I swore—out loud, at least—and it feels good. “How can it not matter?”

  “Because it doesn’t,” he bites out.

  “Of course it does! You went to prison for seven years for something you didn’t do!”

  “Yeah. I went. Not sure what that has to do with you.”

  “Because you let me believe it was true!”

  “I didn’t let you believe anything, Elle.”

  “You pled guilty, Ryder! My parents shipped me off to boarding school the next day. What was I supposed to think? Why would you do that? Why would you choose to spend seven years someplace you didn’t belong?”

  “I’ve done plenty of illegal shit, Elle.”

  “So wrongful imprisonment is some sort of penance?”

  “What do you care?”

  I stare at him, marveling over how I can be so confused and upset, yet also feel so at ease and familiar. How bickering with Ryder feels almost as good as kissing him used to. Then his question registers, and indignation swells.

  “Because it doesn’t make any fucking sense! I need to know—”

  “What do you need to know, Elle? Why do you need to know it?”

  “Because—it—we—”

  “Go back to your fiancé.”

  I bite my bottom lip—hard, completely side-tracked. “Who told you?”

  Ryder scoffs. “The massive ring on your finger.” There’s no pain or anger on his face, and the lack of those two emotions elicit both in me. “When’s the wedding?”

  “Next summer,” I manage.

  “You graduated law school already. So you’re spending a year getting settled at Daddy’s firm first, handling some meaningless mergers? He works there too, right?”

  “How did you…”

  Ryder lets out an ugly laugh. “It’s how your life was always going to end up, Elle.”

  “Not always,” I snap, and for the first time I break through his mask. There’s a flash of—something—but it’s gone before I can tell what.

  “I’ve got to get back to work.” He turns, heading back toward the garage’s office.

  “I went to see you,” I call out after him. Ryder stops and spins back around. “They wouldn’t let me in because I wasn’t an approved visitor.”

  “Good. That wasn’t any place you should have been. Or seen.”

  “You never thought I might want to see you?”

  “Nope,” he lies, starting to leave again.

  I play my trump card, calling his bluff. “Then why was I on your unapproved visitor list? The only name on that list?”

  Ryder stills. “Who told you that?”

  “The sweet woman behind the bulletproof glass.” He doesn’t say anything, just looks at me, managing to maintain an impressive poker face. Another thing that hasn’t changed. “Why, Ryder? Why was I the one person?”

  “I wasn’t taking any chances,” he finally says, then turns to head back to the garage for the third time during this conversation.

  I clearly can’t take a hint. “You owe me answers, Ryder.”

  He spins back around. “I don’t owe you shit, Elle. Come back around here, and I’ll get a restraining order.”

  Ryder starts walking again, and I don’t say anything to try to stop his departure.

  For the first time in seven years, I’m close to tears.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I’ve just pulled away from the curb outside my house when my phone rings. I make the risky choice of tapping the green button on the steering wheel to connect the call without checking to see who is calling me first.

  “Hello?” I answer.

  “Elle. Hi.”

  “Hi, Tommy.”

  “You busy?”

  “Not really. Just driving.”

  “To the cottage?” A touch of nervousness enters his voice.

  “Yes…” Did Eliza not tell him she changed the location of her bachelorette party? Am I supposed to tell him we’re not going to Vegas after all?

  There’s commotion on the other end of the line, then absolute silence. “That’s where I was planning on having my bachelor party,” Tommy tells me.

  “Um, okay? Do you want me to try to talk Eliza out of it? She’s only changing the location last-minute so Jess can still come since she can’t fly anymore.”

  There’s a long pause. “I invited Ryder,” Tommy finally says. “Both this weekend… and to be in the wedding.”

  My heart leaps; my stomach drops.

  Now I’m the silent one. “Oh,” I finally manage to expel a sound. “Does—does he know I’ll be there this weekend?”

  “No,” Tommy admits. “You weren’t going to be. At the time.”

  “He’s not going to be expecting me to have any involvement in your wedding, Tommy.” I wouldn’t—if not for the fact he’s marrying one of my best friends. There’s no way Ryder will be anticipating that after a seven-year absence. I’ve never asked Tommy about whether he visited or spoke to Ryder during that duration of time, but if he did, I’m certain he wouldn’t have brought me up.

  “I know,” Tommy states. There’s a sigh saturated with dread. “I’ll tell him.”

  “I went to the garage,” I admit. “As soon as I heard he was released.”

  “I’m guessing it didn’t go well?”

  “Yeah, you could say that.” I huff out an unamused laugh.

  “He… it’s…” Tommy gives up. “You need to just let him go, Elle.”

  “Yeah, I got that message loud and clear. It would be easier if he’d just tell me why, though.”

  “He’s not going to,” Tommy replies.

  “Yup, he said that, too.” Suspicion dawns. “Wait, did he tell you?”

  “Why he didn’t fight it? No. That he saw you? Yes.”

  “Guessing he put it a lot less pleasant than that,” I mutter, and Tommy laughs.

  “You did just show up at the garage.”

  “I happened to be in town.” I choose not to share the fact I went to Fernwood just to see him. I’m pretty sure Tommy already knows. “And I… needed to.”

  “Have fun this weekend, Elle. Don’t let Eliza do anything crazy.” Tommy’s obviously unwilling to discuss Ryder with me anymore, and I can’t say I blame him. The lines blurred in Ryder’s absence, largely thanks to his relationship with Eliza, but he was Ryder’s best friend long before the two of us had ever spoken. His loyalties are clear.

  “You won’t be going to the cottage?” Stupid, annoying disappointment saturates my voice.

  “I’m guessing… not,” Tommy replies tactfully. Ryder’s lucky to have him as a friend.

  “Yeah, that sounds about right,” I respond dryly. “Bye, Tommy.”

  “Bye, Elle.”

  The remainder of the trip passes quickly. It takes me another hour to reach the small seaside town where Eliza’s family’s cottage is located. It’s charming and picturesque, pretty much the polar opposite of the bustling city I just left behind. I roll my windows all the way down, letting the salt breeze whip through my hair. I exhale and inhale deeply as the sparkling water of the sea appears on my right.

  I pull into the clamshell driveway, parking behind El
iza’s car. I climb out, grabbing my carry-on suitcase from the backseat of my sedan. Scout lets out a joyful bark when I unlock the crate before leaping out to sniff around the hydrangea bushes. A seagull caws in the distance as I head toward the stairs leading up to the wraparound porch. Six rocking chairs move slightly in the summer breeze. I walk through the screen door that’s already propped open and am greeted by chaos.

  Eliza is standing on the coffee table in the center of the living room, wearing a sash that reads Bride To Be and waving her arms around. “No! Cooler on the back deck!” she calls out.

  Then, she spots me. “Eleanor!” She jumps off her makeshift stage and runs over to me, giving me a massive hug as she rocks me back and forth. “Thank God you’re here. I need some help keeping the boys in line.”

  That’s when I realize there’s not just the five other women in the bridal party here. There’s a decidedly masculine back hauling the cooler out through the screened door onto the back deck.

  “The boys?” I repeat.

  “Yeah,” Eliza rolls her eyes. “Tommy was already planning to have his boys’ bash here, so I figured why not just combine things?”

  “Why not?” I echo, looking around for Tommy. Does that mean he talked to Ryder? Is he seriously going to miss his best friend’s bachelor party just to avoid me?

  Scout skitters in through the doorway, finally figuring out I went inside.

  Eliza glances down with a tentative expression as he gives her a dismissive sniff and then sits on my toes. “Oh. You brought Scout.”

  I roll my eyes. “I had to. William is working all weekend, and… well, you know.” William is not a fan of Scout’s, and the hatred is most certainly mutual.

  “Come upstairs,” Eliza demands, grabbing my suitcase and heading for the stairs. “I saved my maid of honor the best room.” I follow her. I’ve been here before, but not since college. The whole house is decorated in relaxing shades of pastel, but I’m the furthest thing from calm. My mind is racing. I don’t even know if Tommy has told Eliza about his history involving Ryder. My guess is not. Which means she has absolutely no idea about my history with Ryder.

  The room Eliza shows me to is gorgeous. It’s on the third floor, with a private balcony that overlooks the beach.

  “Wow. You sure you don’t want this room?” I ask, only half-kidding.

  “Nope. I snagged the master. Get changed out of those fancy clothes, and then come back downstairs. Paige is making margaritas!”

  “Okay,” I agree, smiling at her exuberance. Scout finishes sniffing around the room and promptly leaps onto the bed. Eliza rolls her eyes. “He’s house-trained,” I promise.

  “If you say so. Hurry up. I’ve only met Tommy’s high school friends a few times, and they’ve all been talking about how excited they are to see you.”

  That’s news to me. I’m a tenuous, frayed string extending from the past. My acquaintance with Tommy’s groomsmen—who I know are all former or current residents of Fernwood—is tied to Ryder. I figured I’d be an unwelcome reminder of what happened to their friend, not an anticipated arrival.

  “Okay,” is all I say again before Eliza rushes out into the hall.

  I change out of the suit I wore to the office this morning into a gauzy blue sundress and pad back downstairs. I encounter Tommy at the bottom of the stairs.

  “You’re here,” I state, eyebrows raised.

  Tommy nods once, glancing around. No one is paying attention to our conversation. “He didn’t answer any of my texts or calls. I guess he decided not to come. And Eliza was all excited about a joint thing already, so I figured why not?” The words are casual, but I can hear the hurt underneath.

  “I’m sorry, Tommy,” I tell him.

  Tommy shrugs. “He’s been through a lot.”

  “So have the rest of us,” I reply, before I continue down the stairs.

  “Hey!” Paige rushes over to me when I enter the kitchen. “What took you so long to get here?”

  “Meeting ran late,” I respond, accepting the glass she holds out and taking a sip. Potent.

  “Imagine that.” Paige rolls her eyes. “So, you’re working at your dad’s firm after all?”

  I nod. “Just for the summer. While I prep for the bar and do other interviews. I’ll decide in the fall where I’m going to start work officially.”

  “Eleanor! Hi!” Jessica waddles over to us, rubbing her swollen belly.

  “Hi, Jess,” I greet, giving her a hug. “How are you feeling?”

  “Badly. I can’t believe Eliza cancelled the trip to Vegas just for me! You all should have gone without me.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Paige replies. “We can’t have a bachelorette party without the full bridal party.”

  I nod in agreement. “This will be just as fun as Vegas.”

  “Especially if Elle has more than one drink.” Paige smirks. “Drink up, dear.”

  I roll my eyes at her but take another sip of the margarita. “How much alcohol did you put in this? It tastes like straight tequila.”

  “Just balancing quality and quantity,” Paige replies, which I take to mean she took some liberties with the measuring. I won’t even need a second drink. I rarely have any alcohol. Two sips of this, and I already feel buzzed.

  “I miss drinking,” Jessica says forlornly. “I need something to distract me from the fact I can no longer see my feet. Been hoping you’d call me for another favor, Eleanor.”

  I gulp some more of my cocktail so I don’t have to say anything.

  “Favor?” Paige asks.

  “Eleanor needed me to look someone up for her pro bono case.”

  “I didn’t know you were working on any pro bono cases,” Paige tells me, eyebrows raised.

  “Probably because you tune out anything I say about work. There was just the one. It’s over now.” I emphasize the last three words.

  Paige nods once. Yup, she’s put it together. She goes home more than I do, and I’m sure the whole town of Fernwood is buzzing about Ryder’s return.

  Jessica misses our side conversation. “Oh no, it is?” she asks, sounding disappointed. “Did you guys win, at least?”

  “Yup. We won. Excuse me guys, I need some water to wash down all this liquor.”

  I fill a glass as I greet the rest of the bridal party, then move on to the guys. Eliza was right. They do seem excited to see me, asking questions about living in Boston and attending law school. The social hour melds into evening as the sun sets above the sea, sending skitters of orange and pink sunbeams sparkling across the surface of the waves.

  Everyone gravitates to the formal dining room for dinner. Eliza ordered take-out from a local restaurant, and there’s a delicious array of food that’s been transferred to ceramic serving dishes.

  We’re halfway through eating dinner when the front door opens, halting the amiable chatter. Thanks to the open floor plan, there’s a clear line of sight to the entryway from the table.

  “Hey, Tom—” Ryder appears in the foyer, spots me, and stops talking.

  I hate how I’m not annoyed he’s so late. Pissed he showed up at all. Nope, I’m experiencing a wave of excitement that he’s here.

  “What are you doing here?” Ryder asks, looking straight at me. Guess we’re going antagonistic right out of the gate. Not that I’d expect anything less.

  “Same thing as you would be my guess.” I take a sip of margherita, just for something to do. Scout jolts to attention from his spot on the living room rug when I speak, racing over to the intruder.

  “Scout. Leave it!” I call. But my dog’s not listening. Or barking. Or jumping. He’s wagging his tail and rubbing against Ryder’s legs. “Scout!” He ignores me completely, too enthralled by encountering another human he likes. I grit my teeth. Of course it would be Ryder.

  “Ryder! You made it!”

  Tommy leaps up from the table in an overdone attempt to dismiss the tension and confusion swirling through the room. He bounds over to Ryder’s si
de. Ryder stops petting Scout and says something to him that causes Tommy to shift uncomfortably. I’d bet my newly minted law degree it was about me. The rest of the men all head over to greet Ryder as well.

  I can feel Eliza’s eyes on me. Along with the rest of the women. Especially Paige’s. And Jessica’s. Guessing she’s put together who the Ryder I called her about is. I keep my gaze focused on my linguine as I swirl strands of pasta around my fork.

  Footsteps near the table.

  “Hi, Eliza. It’s nice to finally meet you,” Ryder says. “I’m Ryder.”

  I finally look up. Eliza is glancing between the two of us, questions written all over her face. “Hi, Ryder. It’s nice to meet you, too.”

  Ryder continues introducing himself around the table, even to Paige. He skips me entirely.

  I drain my glass and grab the wine bottle, only to discover it’s empty.

  “I’m going to get more wine,” I announce unnecessarily, grabbing my empty glass and heading into the kitchen. I set the glass down on the kitchen island and open the fridge to survey the chilled bottles. I grab a rosé and shut the stainless-steel door. Ryder is standing on the other side.

  “Finally going to introduce yourself?” I snap, twisting the top off the wine and filling my glass with a generous helping.

  “Did you come down with amnesia in addition to becoming an alcoholic?”

  “Fuck you, Ryder.” I can be confrontational, too.

  “Rough day at the office?”

  “Nope. I had a lovely day.” I take a large gulp of wine. “Mostly because I was looking forward to this weekend with my friends. Which you just ruined.”

  “By not introducing myself to a girl I’ve known since I was fourteen?!”

  “By showing up here!”

  “At my best friend’s bachelor party? I still don’t know what the fuck you’re doing here!”

  I sigh deeply. “Eliza was my freshman year roommate. She visited me and Paige in Fernwood one summer. It’s how she met Tommy.”

  Ryder shakes his head a couple of times before he rakes a hand through his hair and then walks over to the cabinet, pulling a plate out. I stalk out of the kitchen, bottle in one hand and glass in the other. Based on the awkward looks I’m getting, I’m pretty sure everyone overheard our kitchen conversation.