Heartbreaker(46)

She holds me again, and this time, I don’t have the strength left to pull away.

“I didn’t know,” Eva whispers sadly. “You never said a word.”

“I couldn’t,” I tell her, my voice raw with emotion. “You were everything to me. The one good thing in this town. In my whole mess of a life. You made me believe that maybe I was worth something after all. That you and I could make a life together. Something real.” I feel the warmth of her body, wrapped around me just like before. Giving me strength, and something to hold on to. “I started thinking that maybe I could hold out another year,” I admit. “Find a job here in town, and move out. Do something to make it through until you graduated too.” I laugh, hollow. “As if it could be so simple, that love could overcome all odds.”

“So why didn’t you stay?” she asks in a small voice. “We could have made it work. If you’d just told me how bad things were getting. If you’d let me in. I would have done anything, Finn. Anything you needed. And then, maybe.” She stops, biting back her words.

“What could you have done?” I ask. “Come on, baby. You were focused on school, and acting, all those interviews for drama schools you had your heart set on. And I wanted that for you.” I swear. “Fuck, so bad. I wanted you to have everything. The life you deserved.”

“Will you stop saying that?” Eva exclaims. “You’re talking like you didn’t deserve good things too, but I was there. I remember. You were everything to me, too!”

I look away. “I know. I know you would have given up everything to be with me, but you think I could have lived with that? I was stuck between a rock and a f*cking bullet, and I didn’t see a way out for us both.”

Eva shivers. “You keep talking about bullets. About your dad.” She pauses, looking anxious. “What happened, Finn? What aren’t you still telling me?” I shake my head, wordless, but she keeps pushing. “Please. I need to know. There’s nothing you can tell me that I won’t understand.”

“Eva.” For all my pained confession, there’s still a part of me locked shut. I don’t want to crack that last defense, but I can see it in her eyes. She won’t rest until I tell her everything.

“Trust me, please,” Eva whispers again. “Don’t shut me out again.”

It hurts like f*ck, and if this were anyone else, I would just walk away rather than disturb these old ghosts. I’ve pieced my life back together, made something I can even be proud of, but it all feels like it’s unraveling again in this same damn town that chewed me up and spit me out all those years ago, back when I was just a bruised, broken kid making all the wrong choices.

But maybe that’s the point now. Back then, I didn’t want to share my burden. I pushed her away, and it wrecked us forever. I should have believed in her the way she believes in me now.

It’s the only way I’ll ever be free from the past.





Sixteen.


I wait, my heart beating with an anxious staccato pace. This is wrong, all wrong. I can see it just in Finn’s expression – so tense, and all alone.

I hold him tighter, waiting. What has he been hiding all these years? How did I not notice what was breaking him in two?

“Fuck,” Finn curses under his breath. “I’m sorry. It’s just… I’ve been running from all this for so long now, trying to put it behind me and move on.”

“And how’s that working out for you?” I ask, trying to make him smile.

Finn chuckles. It’s still a hollow sound, but I’ll take it. I’ll take anything that lifts the terrible pain in his eyes and gives me back a glimpse of the man I thought I knew.

“It was graduation day,” he starts, moving to sit on the bench. I go with him, still holding his hand tightly, listening to each word weighed down with guilt and remorse. “And I was happy. I felt like I’d finally made it through, proven everyone wrong. I could see the finish line, a life with you. I remember, I even showed up at the ceremony, sat through all the bullshit speeches just to see your face in the crowd.”

I squeeze him. “I remember. I was really proud of you.”

Finn sighs. “I thought maybe he would show, too. I left the invite out for him, even got his suit laundered in case he was sober long enough to pull it together. But he didn’t.” He shrugs. “I told myself I was relieved, that he didn’t embarrass me in front of everyone, but still. I wanted him there. I wanted to show him I wasn’t the loser he said I was.”

“I had no idea,” I whisper, feeling so guilty I can barely stand it. “I had no idea it was so bad. You never said.”

Finn shrugs again, a pained, jerky motion. “It’s not your fault. I should have spoken up a hundred times. Gone to Bill, or a teacher, or your parents. They could have helped, maybe, but I was too damn proud and ashamed to reach out. It felt like it was my burden, my wretched cross to bear.” He takes another breath, and pushes on before I can say anything. It’s like the words have been bottled up inside him too long, and he just wants to get them out now. “After the celebration, we made plans to meet that night at the pier,” he continues. “And I went home. I was going to pack a bag. Take you away for the weekend, to that bed and breakfast up the coast. Remember, we had it all figured out.”