“Curious?” I echo.
“I’d just started at Until Proven Guilty when we got Ryder’s case. I only graduated law school a couple years ago. It’s not the same as working at a fancy firm, but you still want to prove yourself, you know?” I nod. “Anyway, there was this new case. The kind that keeps you up at night because there are pieces that just don’t make any sense. And not in the way where you feel like the right calls were made at the time.”
“Ryder’s case,” I whisper.
“Right,” Lily confirms. “I went to see him the day we got it. It was my first time going to a prison. Have you ever been?”
“Once.” I don’t disclose I never made it past the front desk.
“I passed all these sleazy drug dealers, and then there was this guy with a friendly smile who pulled my chair out for me at the table. I kept going back to visit him, and then I got invested in the case for a whole other reason. I’d start going over old notes in the evenings, trying to pick up on things everyone else might have missed. There was one particular transcript from that night. An interview with a girl named Danielle Collins. She wasn’t directly involved with anything that happened, so no one seemed to pay anything she said much attention. Probably because she swore up and down Ryder was innocent all along.”
“Okay…” I say when she pauses, still unclear on what she’s trying to tell me.
“I tracked Danielle Collins down. According to her, she knew he was innocent because Ryder James didn’t have any interest in a girl in Fernwood not named Elle Clarke. Your name wasn’t anywhere in the file we had, which seemed odd, since Danielle said you were dating Ryder.” It suddenly occurs to me my parents might have shipped me off for reasons besides stemming gossip. “Other interviews indicated he was interested in the victim, which fit better with the prosecutor’s narrative. So, I brought you up to him the next time I visited Pennfield.”
“I’m sure that went well,” I deadpan.
“Yeah. Great.” Lily catches the sarcasm. “He seemed more upset about the thought of you getting involved than losing his appeal. I was curious, so I called you. The way you reacted when I did… well it just made me even more so. But then the DNA evidence came through, the judge ordered his immediate release, and I tried to let it go.”
“DNA evidence?” I’m feeling sober now, that’s for sure.
“Yeah. There was some collected. It was never tested because Ryder pled guilty. The judge finally agreed we’d poked enough holes in the narrative to test it. When it didn’t match, he was released.”
“Did they compare anyone else’s?”
“There was just the one sample. There’s nothing left to test now.”
“Oh.” I wonder who had to make that decision.
“I haven’t been at Until Proven Guilty for very long, but I’ve worked on a lot of different cases. People who have gotten out after forty years and are totally lost in their lives. Who will never get out because the person swearing they were at home is a loved one with an investment in lying. There aren’t many happy endings or second chances at the end of the road.”
“Ryder wants a fresh start. I’m the furthest thing from that.”
Lily shrugs. “I’m a lawyer, not a therapist. You said Ryder doesn’t have feelings for you. I’m telling you he does.”
I chew my bottom lip. I’ve somehow fallen into an alternate reality where my best friend told me Ryder is a bad idea, and the girl he’s maybe dating at the moment is telling me to go for it.
Lily gives me a small smile that suggests she’s confident I’ll make the right decision. If I knew what that is, maybe I’d be just as certain. Unfortunately, I’m more confused than ever. I’m surrounded by nothing but big, important decisions and no easy choices.
And the longer I wait, the more will be made for me, rather than by me.
Chapter Eighteen
William follows me into the entryway of my childhood home.
“Mom? Dad? Anyone home?” I call out as we enter. No answer. William and I walk past the circular staircase, through the long hallway, and out into the backyard. My parents are out on the back patio, sipping drinks in their matching Adirondack chairs.
“Eleanor! William! You’re early!” my mother exclaims, leaping out of her seat.
“No traffic,” William explains, kissing her cheek. “Lovely to see you, Kristen.”
“You, too, William,” she responds, smiling warmly.
“Hi, Dad,” I greet, helping myself to a splash of the lemonade my mother is drinking.
“Eleanor. How are things?”
“Fine.” I take a sip of lemonade and make a face. It’s hard lemonade, apparently.
The rest of the cocktail hour is mostly spent hearing about my parents’ recent trip to Paris. William’s an eager participant, but I continue my recent trend of being a passive one. I’m too consumed by my own thoughts to offer up more than a few appreciative sounds as my mother describes the bistros and museums they visited.
We eventually migrate into the formal dining room for dinner. Cheerful conversation continues as I push the steak around my plate. Past the green beans and around the potatoes. In an endless loop, just like the doubts in my head.
“Eleanor!”
Based on the tone of my mother’s voice, it’s not the first time she’s called my name.
“What?” I glance up.
“What about August for an engagement party? Everyone was so disappointed your trip to California came up, but we can just expand the guest list and have a larger event.”
“We’ll see,” I reply, taking a bite of potato.
“See? Eleanor, venues book up years in advance!”
“Uh-huh,” I respond, sipping at my wine.
My mother sighs. “I’ll make a few calls and send you some suggestions.”
“Great.” I don’t think my mother catches the sarcasm, but my father does.
He turns to William. “How are things going at the firm?”
“Everyone has been fantastic. I was speaking with Billings last night, and…”
I tune the conversation out again. I’m totally indifferent to the discussion about working at Washington and Stevens. And to the people sitting at this table. I love my parents. I think I loved William. Or at least loved the idea of him. But right now? I want to be any place but the formal dining room of the house I grew up in.
I’m craving ocean air and sand between my toes. That’s where I wish I was right now. Not because I’m suddenly some sort of beach aficionado. Because it’s a place I now associate with him.
I want to be any place Ryder James is.
The realization hits me like an anvil. I may not have any assurances of how Ryder feels about me, but I know how I feel about him. I also know it’s not a way you’re supposed to feel about a guy when you’re engaged to another one.
Is love expectations and fancy restaurants and jumping out of bed to brush your teeth before your partner wakes up? Or is it scintillating kisses and arguments and never feeling like there’s something you can’t discuss?
Assurance or anticipation?
Certain or confusing?
Tired or thrilling?
There’s never really been a choice for me. I wasn’t lying to Ryder when I said choosing him in high school was an easy one. Even when I wanted to resist him, I couldn’t. I wish I felt differently now. I don’t, even knowing that things between us are more complicated than ever before. That there’s a lot more sitting between us than just the fact I’m engaged to someone else.
“Is everything set for Eliza’s wedding?” My mother asks as William and my father continue to discuss colleagues and clients.
“Yes,” I respond, before cutting a green bean in half.
“She’s getting married out on the Cape?”
“Right,” I confirm.
My mother lets the conversation drop, leaving me to cut up the rest of my dinner in silence. I stay quiet through dessert and coffee, and it’s the first thing Willi
am asks me about when we climb in the car.
“Are you getting sick, or something? You were awfully quiet during dinner.”
An opening to tell him I’m in love with someone else. I falter; not because I’m unsure. Because I’ve had my heart broken twice before, and it’s not something I ever wanted to inflict on anyone else. Worst of all, I was always aware things between me and Ryder could fall apart at any moment. William’s had no such forewarning. He’s not going to see this coming, and that makes it all the worse.
“I’m not coming down with anything,” I reply, but don’t provide any other explanation for my strange behavior.
“Okay. So, what do you think about August?”
“Huh?” I ask absentmindedly, staring out the window as I try to sort through the words I need to say to him.
“August? For the engagement party?”
“Oh.” I take a deep breath, steeling myself. “Um, no. I don’t think so.”
“You want to push it to the fall? We’ll be just as busy then, and your mother’s already handling everything.”
“No. I don’t think we should have an engagement party.”
“What?” William glances away from the road. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t think we should get married, William.” I rush the words out like I’m tearing off a band-aid.
“What?”
It was a bad idea to have this conversation while he’s driving. William’s not even looking at the road.
“I don’t want to get married.”
“What?” he repeats again.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have accepted your proposal. It—our parents were there, and everyone was looking at us, and I just—I shouldn’t have said yes.”
William swerves onto the shoulder of the road. “Are you fucking kidding me, Eleanor?”
“Um, no,” I respond, startled by both the reckless driving and the swearing. I don’t usually associate William with either. “You’re an amazing guy, William. I’m so happy I met you. I’m just—we’re so young.”
“Cut the crap, Eleanor. This is about the guy from the Fourth. Ryder.”
I meet his eyes. I owe him honesty. “He has a little to do with it,” I admit. “We have a past.”
“He’s a mess.”
I shrug. “So am I.”
William scoffs, then runs a hand across his face. “I can’t believe this. I really can’t believe this.”
I swallow thickly. We’ve been dating for almost three years. This is never how I imagined it ending, and I’m the one doing so. I can’t imagine how he’s feeling right now. “I am so sorry, William. I don’t know what else to say. I just… I know we work together, but we don’t fit. We would be happy, but nothing more than that…” Not the fireworks and butterflies I feel around Ryder. I’m not sure how to verbalize that effervescent feeling, especially not in the midst of ending an engagement.
William looks straight at me for the first time during this car wreck of a conversation. “He’s going to break your heart.”
I swallow a lump in my throat and blink a couple times, opting not to share he missed an again at the end of that sentence.
“It’s his to break,” I admit.
William shakes his head a couple of times. “Wow.”
He pulls back onto the highway, driving faster than usual. Obviously eager to end this evening. William’s car comes to a stop outside the brownstone. I unbuckle my seatbelt and grab my clutch.
“I’ll be professional at work. But outside of that, I don’t want to see you. Or talk to you.”
I nod. “I understand.”
My capitulation seems to anger him more.
“You’re making a big mistake, Eleanor.”
“Maybe,” I reply, instead of sharing the first response that came to mind.
I climb out of the car, and William’s off as soon as I close the door. I watch his taillights travel down the street until they disappear entirely.
Or maybe I’m fixing one.
Chapter Nineteen
The following week is spent burying myself in work and watching romantic comedies. Maybe if I see enough happy endings, I’ll absorb one through osmosis. I’m willing to do whatever it takes at this point.
William keeps his word. He’s cordial at work, but only when we’re absolutely forced to interact. I’m sure there’s gossip around the firm about our break-up but confirming that would require paying attention to anything besides what people ask me directly. I cocoon myself in a bubble that includes nothing but my summer associate assignments, Scout, and every actor who’s starred in a film with cheesy dialogue and a happy ever after.
My parents haven’t spoken to me since I informed them I broke things off with William the day after it happened. I imagine the silence is meant to be a punishment, but it’s more of a reward.
I leave the office early on Friday, ignoring the side glances being cast my way. I already decided I won’t be accepting Washington and Stevens’ employment offer. Not only does it mean I’ll gain some independence from my father; it also means meeting William’s accusing stares has an expiration date. Slowly, I’m inching toward the outcomes I want. Just by crossing the immediate options I couldn’t bring myself to choose off the list, but it’s more progress than being entirely stuck in place.
It takes me almost two hours to drive to the very end of Cape Cod. The hotel where all the wedding guests are staying is located right on the water. I can smell the ocean as soon as I step out of the car. I inhale deeply.
“Keys, miss?”
I hand my car keys over to the valet, and follow the bellhop who’s already grabbed my luggage inside the hotel to check in.
“Eleanor!” I’ve barely stepped inside the lobby when Eliza rushes over to me, with Paige close behind. “Thank goodness you’re finally here! I haven’t seen you all week.”
“I know. Work’s been crazy,” I reply, as I hug first her, and then Paige.
Always my excuse. Work, work, work.
“And… I needed some time to myself. William and I are over.”
“What?” Eliza gasps. “Oh my God, you should have told me sooner! Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I smile tightly. “It wasn’t meant to be.”
“What happened?” Paige asks.
“I told him I couldn’t marry him.”
“He took it well?” She smirks slightly.
“Not really.”
“I’m proud of you,” Eliza surprises me by saying, giving me another tight hug. “It couldn’t have been easy, and I know you wouldn't have ended things unless you were sure it was the right thing to do.”
“Thanks, Eliza. I’m really fine, though. This is your wedding! We should be celebrating.”
“Okay, but if you want to talk, promise me you’ll say something.”
“I promise,” I reply. “Let me go check in.”
“Oh, I already checked you in,” Eliza responds. “And grabbed your gift bag.” She grins. “Not a bad haul, if I do say so myself.”
She loops her arm through mine and starts pulling me through the lobby toward the elevator. There’s a fancy bar on the far side of the lobby that looks right out over the ocean. Sandy shore stretches into blue waves only interrupted by a distant striped lighthouse.
“So… where’s everyone else?” I ask, as we wait for the elevator to arrive.
“Jessica’s resting, Brooke’s down on the beach, Lisa—” Eliza starts.
“Ryder’s not here yet,” Paige interrupts.
Eliza stares at her; I glare.
“You can pretend that's not who you were asking about all you want, but I’m not going to,” Paige informs me.
I don’t say anything. Now isn’t the time to get into it. I let them lead me upstairs to my room, chattering about the wedding the whole time. It’s a welcome distraction that continues right up to the rehearsal dinner, which is taking place in the barrel room. I had no idea what that meant when Paige informed me about the ch
oice of venue, until I entered the winery where the wedding is taking place tomorrow and realized it’s literally just a room filled with barrels of wine. Which means there’s no shortage of it served with dinner, and I definitely take advantage. Especially since Ryder is seated directly across from me. I thought seeing him as a newly single woman would feel different, but it doesn’t. Being engaged to someone else didn’t do a whole lot to curb my feelings for him, if I’m being totally honest.
Jessica’s seated to my left, and I spend most of the meal catching up with her. And also learning far more about pregnancy than I ever wanted to know. I know I’m nowhere near ready to have kids but hearing her talk about nurseries and names along with swollen ankles and insomnia sends some pangs of longing through me. I thought I was close to that, and now I’m not. My close friends are starting to get married, have kids, and I’m completely alone.
But at least I’m not the only one. Jessica’s husband asks Ryder about Lily during dessert, and I studiously avoid glancing his way after I hear him reply they broke up. Based on the conversation we had at the fireworks I was expecting it. Knowing he’s single makes me contemplate how—if—I should let him know I am now as well.
Dinner ends, and people start to trickle off for the evening. I get into a long conversation with Eliza’s mother, and by the time it’s finished almost everyone has departed the barrel room. There’s a bus that runs between the vineyard and the hotel, and I have it to myself on the return trip. I lean my forehead against the cool window, staring out of it. All I can see is my own reflection. Then, water begins dripping down it. The wedding tomorrow is outside, so I sincerely hope this is just a passing shower.
The bus deposits me back at the hotel, and I cross stones darkened by rain to enter the lobby. My heels squeak and slide on the glassy floor as I cross the lobby. Raucous laughter sounds, and I glance over at the bar. It’s occupied by Tommy and his groomsmen, but I’m only focused on one guy. Ryder turns his gaze on me just in time to watch me slip and almost lose my balance. One of the doormen races over. I wave him off.
“I’m totally fine.” I laugh. Okay, also slightly buzzed. “Really. It rained, and these shoes aren’t great for rain.” I pull my heels off. “Problem solved.”
Come Break My Heart Again Page 24