Come Break My Heart Again (FERNWOOD #1) by C.W. Farnsworth EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: C.W. Farnsworth
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 4 MB
- Price: Free
Bright rays of sunshine stream in through the windshield. Warm air flies
in through the open window, whipping strands of brown hair across my
face. They get caught in my sunglasses and stuck to my lips, but I don’t roll
the car window up or use the elastic on my wrist. I press the gas pedal down
harder, watching the speed tick higher and enjoying the small burst of
adrenaline that accompanies the thrill of going too fast.
It’s a perfect spring day, the sort that makes hope blossom in your chest,
no matter what mood you happen to be in. The sun shines down, blinding
and relentless, not a single fluffy white cloud visible in the sky. The air
tastes fresh, like it was in hibernation all winter and has returned
rejuvenated.
I flick the right blinker and tap on the brakes, spinning the wheel
slightly as I coast off the interstate’s exit ramp. A pile of road salt sits on the
corner next to the stop sign that marks the start of the intersection, the gray
a few shades lighter than the asphalt. It was a long, harsh winter, today’s
temperature tropical by comparison.
Lana’s distinctive voice is easier to hear now that I’m off the highway,
the bittersweet lyrics and ethereal melody my favorite song on the playlist
Juliet calls my “sad girl music.” She asked me to send it to her once, in
college, after a breakup.
I doubt she’s listened to it since. Because that’s what normal people do.
They heal from heartbreak and move on.
Another left, then a right.
The wheel turns without me even having to think about it. This route is
so familiar; I could drive it blindfolded.
I wish it were foreign.
I wish I’d been brave enough to turn my back on this town.
I wish I were normal.
Home is such a strange concept when you think about it. How we assign
importance to one place based on familiarity or its proximity to certain
people. How our perception of it shifts as we grow older. How it doesn’t.
The trailer park isn’t a prettier sight in the sunshine. It sits like that heap
of salt—bland yet obvious. Unchanged by shifting surroundings. The
brightness beaming from the sky casts a harsher spotlight on the general
state of disrepair.
Five years ago, the dirt road was paved. Since then, there’s been little, if
any, maintenance to the asphalt. The suspension bounces with each pothole
I hit. They’re impossible to avoid, more crevices than smooth and flat
surface.
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