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"It's not what you think," I rush to get out. "It was just a cover. Cash and I are not getting back together."
"Doesn't matter if you are," Wilder shrugs before turning on the ignition. "Not my business."
"We're not," I reassure him, my hand reaching across the center console to touch him.
He recoils in protest, and I feel more of my already broken heart ripping apart as I pull my arm back to my lap. Eventually, all those tiny rips will morph into one cataclysmic tear, and I don't know if I'll ever be the same again.
"You don't have to believe me," I manage to get out, "but it's the truth."
"You two looked pretty cozy," Wilder snarkily replies. "His hand was so far up your dress, I couldn't tell where your thigh began and his arm ended."
My throat burns. "I promise you it was not what it looked like."
"Actions," Wilder smirks, "speak louder than words, Blondie."
"I love you," I remind him. "I don't want anyone but you."
"You have a funny way of showing it," Wilder scoffs.
"We stole proof that Fanny framed my dad," I try explaining. "We needed a cover in case Fanny or Archibald caught us. One that was believable."
"Like I said, it's none of my business," Wilder dismisses me as he backs out of the Allred's driveway.
"You're pissed right now," I take a sobering breath. "One day, though, you're not going to be. And when you're done being angry, you're going to see that everything I've been doing over the past few days is for you."
"No," Wilder chuckles cruelly. "It's for you. For your family. Not for me."
"You miss Cash," I say quietly. "I know you do. I figured if I helped him, maybe I could help him see that you aren't the bad guy here. I am."
"Why are you the bad guy?" he humors me.
"Because I seduced you, of course," I smile sadly, remembering how good it felt to lay in his arms.
"No one sees it that way except for you," he shakes his head.
"If Cash hadn't come back, would you have kept seeing me? Kept sleeping with me? Kept going places with me? Kept having dinner with me?"
Wilder scratches the back of his neck. "Probably, but it doesn't matter now. Cash is back, and he's staying. For good."
"I miss you," I twist in my seat to look at him. "I miss you so much I can barely breathe. Do you miss me the same way?"
Wilder stares straight ahead. "You have to stop saying shit like that to me."
"I can't help it," I place a hand on my wailing heart.
"It makes things harder, Blondie."
"Harder for you?"
"For you."
"I don't understand why you're being this way," I drop my head into my hands. I have to stop doing this. Have to stop begging him to be with me. What's that saying everyone keeps blasting on TikTok? If he wanted to, he would.
He doesn't want to be with you, Ingrid. Let him go. Move on.
"There's never been a future for us that would make you happy," he deals what feels like the final blow. The final fissure that splits my heart in two. "I can't love you the way you want me to. I don't even know if I want to get married or have kids."
My body shakes as the break reverberates through my body. "I don't know what I want, Wilder. I'm only 18. I don't have my future planned out. I just..."
