The Break-Up Artist

40

I’m surprised Starlight Cruises hasn’t been sued for false advertising. This is the Hudson River, the border between New York City and New Jersey. There is no starlight. But I suppose Smog-Refracting-Light Cruises doesn’t have the same ring.

Passengers board the dinner cruise. It’s mostly sweet old couples who still wear suits and dresses for a night out. I park on the street and avoid the line of cars waiting for valet. I don’t have time, and I can park my own car for free, thank you very much. Also, I need some walking time to psych myself up. I was doing faux Lamaze breathing on the car ride over.

Luckily, I’m not alone. My accomplices park behind me, and the three of us stroll up to the loading dock. I’ve never performed a scheme like this. I’ve never been out in the open. It’s always letters and texts and pictures and whisper campaigns. But this time, it has to be me.

Val sits alone on a bench checking her phone, the cruise ship behind her making her look minuscule. She has on a simple black dress—no blazer tonight. She stands up as soon as she sees us.

“Becca? What are you doing here?” Val asks.

I’m flanked by Monica and Isabelle, Ezra’s exes, the girls he suddenly decided to call it quits with one day.

“Mind if we join you?” I ask.

“Ezra’s parking. He’ll be here any minute.” She says it like a warning, but I know Ezra can’t hurt me. I’m not the one he’s hurting.

Val holds her purse in front of her, as if shielding herself from us. I’ve never seen her so rigid, so prepared for a fight. I summon my courage and move on. “I’m quitting the break-up business, almost.”

“Almost?”

“Before I retire, there’s one couple I want to try to break up. You and Ezra.”

“Goodbye, Becca,” Val says sternly, but underneath, I see the real Val—my best friend—trying to climb out.

“Hear her out,” Monica says. “Trust me. I wish I’d had a friend who’d done the same for me.”

“Listen,” Val says to me. “He told me what happened with you guys was a stupid mistake. He said his world wasn’t in the same vicinity—”

“—of complete because he couldn’t share it with you,” Isabelle says. “Yeah, that one’s from Jerry Maguire.”

“It’s all just one big movie for him. Until one day the movie ends and suddenly the lights come up,” Monica says. “Believe me. If you were given no warning, if everything seemed perfect until one day it was over, on to the next, you would’ve doused him in Diet Sprite, too.”

“Becca wanted us to warn you, Val.” Isabelle tries to put a comforting hand on her, but Val steps back.

She can’t do stone-faced for too long, though. Her face is on the verge of crumbling into tears. And now I feel like an even worse friend. She’s just trying to enjoy her evening. “I’m sorry, Val.”

“Why are you doing this?” she squeaks out.

“Because if you get on that boat with Ezra, you’re going to regret it. Maybe not today, or this week, but eventually, you’ll see that this isn’t it.”

“Isn’t what?”

“Love.”

Val dabs at a tear before she lets it fall. “Becca Williamson talking about love?”

“It must be the apocalypse,” I say. “It’s like handbags. You would never buy a knockoff. Even if nobody could tell the difference. You would only get the real thing.”

“Of course.”

“So why aren’t you holding out for the real thing?” I heave in and out. I feel like I’m fighting for my life, and in a way, I guess I am. “Because you deserve it.”

Val sits down, her face frozen in solemnity. For the first time in our friendship, I can’t read her expression.

I keep talking: “People always spout those ridiculous sayings about love. ‘You can’t control love’ or ‘they’re meant to be.’ I think that can also apply to friends.” I dab at my eyes, but that doesn’t stop the tears. “I don’t know why or how you became my best friend, but I can’t imagine anyone else in your place. And even if you never want to talk to me again, I want you to be happy above all.”

The splashing of the water against the dock fills our silence. I think about all the eight million times Val and I have cracked up over the most random things, and how I don’t want the last time we talk to be a downer like this.

“What’s going on?” Ezra stands behind us in a blazer and gelled hair. Yes, he’s still cute, objectively speaking. But there are lots of cute guys out there, and I have to hope that most of them aren’t scumbags.

“Hey there, ex-lover,” Monica says. “We were just having a chat with Val.”

“About handbags,” Isabelle says.

“If you’ll excuse us, ladies,” he says, voice cracking. I guess dumping girls via email leaves you ill-prepared for face-to-face confrontation. He takes Val’s hand. “We have a date.”

“Five minutes to departure! Last call for boarding!” a Starlight employee yells over a loudspeaker. Couples make their way aboard.

I gesture to the cruise ship, with Chinese lanterns strung around the deck and a pianist playing classical music in the main room. “It’s just dinner on a boat,” I say.

“It’s a great date for my girlfriend,” Ezra says. He spins Val to face him. “For the girl I love.”

“You love me?”

“I love you, Valerie Hurst.” He rubs her hand and smiles.

It’s hard not to swoon when a guy says that to you. I get a little light-headed, and it wasn’t even for me. When you hear those words, it’s like being picked out from the crowd. That was his secret weapon, and he fired it. So I can’t blame Val when she follows him onto the boat.

I have to sit down for a minute. Isabelle and Monica console me, which is nice but not at all helpful. My body feels hollow, and I recognize the hole in my heart. I’ve been ditched by my best friend. Again. Maybe this time I deserved it. I’m not just losing the person. I’m losing all our memories, this whole timeline. Memories are meant to be shared. And the worst part is—

“Hey.”

I look up slowly, because I know that voice.

Val stands in front of me.

“Val?” My eyes dart to the ship. Ezra runs to the back deck and waves his hands frantically.

“Val! Val, what are you doing?” he yells. He grabs a crew member and points out his girlfriend ashore, presumably to get them to return to the dock. They pull him into the dining room.

Isabelle records his meltdown on her phone. “Love it.”

I’m speechless. Val glances at the ship stoically. I’m reacting enough for the both of us. The ship gets smaller as it lunges farther into the Hudson.

“Are you hungry?” she asks me. I spot the beginnings of a trademark Val smile bubbling up on her face. “My dinner plans fell through.”