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"You just what?"
"I guess," I hitch a shoulder, "I thought we could figure things out together."
He doesn't respond as I lick my lips, my heart aching like a broken bone.
I know I'm beating a dead horse. I know he's just going to keep putting up walls. I know fighting for him is a losing battle. I know all of this, but I still want him.
I want all of Wilder. The good parts of him. His loyalty and his strength. And the bad parts. Like the cold, aloof version I'm getting right now.
There's nothing more I can say. Nothing more I can do. I keep baring my heart and soul and he keeps rejecting me.
Cash rejected me and I cried for a minute, then moved on.
I can't move on this time. Why can't I move on?
"Can I tell you something?" Wilder interrupts the heartbreaking silence.
"Yeah, of course."
"I have a rough past," he frowns as an oncoming car's headlights dash across his face. "I come with baggage. Baggage I haven't looked through. Baggage that's made it hard to let people in. The example my father set is a terrible one. When things get too hard, choose the second family you made and leave the first one. That's what he taught me. I have a rough past, Ingrid. I can't drag you into that."
"Your dad isn't the only one who's set an example for you," I raise an eyebrow. "Look at your grandpa. He welcomed you into his home with open arms. He's taken care of your mom, you, and your grandma for years. He's spent his weekends doing yard work with you and taking your mom to work. Or you to work. He's always been there for you. Your dad isn't the only example, Wilder. He's just one. A shitty one at that. You have another example. You're not broken beyond repair. We all have baggage. I'm not afraid of yours."
He parks alongside the curb in front of my house and peers over at me. "It's complicated."
"Everything is complicated," I swallow hard. "I won't keep asking you to choose me. I know you won't. I just want you to know even though you chose Cash instead of me, I still love you. I still want you. I still want all the baggage and all the examples that have been set for you."
"Ingrid," he exhales.
"I won't keep begging you to want me, Wilder," I grab his hand and hold onto it, melting against the way his calloused palm feels like home against my skin.
"I..." he trails off.
"I admire your loyalty to your friendship with Cash," I play with his fingers, wishing I could hold on forever. "But sometimes, we outgrow our friends. Or maybe they outgrow us."
"You don't have any friends," he teases me with a smirk.
"I had you," I sigh. "Now, I have no one."
"I'm sorry," Wilder mutters. "I didn't realize..."
"It's okay," I assure him. "I'm not like all the other people in your life. There aren't any conditions attached to my feelings for you. I'm not expecting anything in return. You don't have to prove to me that you're worthy of me. You don't have to give up all the things that make you happy for me. I'm not your dad, and I'm not Cash."
Wilder inhales sharply. "You say that now. But when I disappoint you enough times, there will be conditions. You'll stop loving me like everyone else."
"There's only one way to find out," I chew on the inside of my cheek.
We stare at each other, my heart yearning to be closer to him.
"You should go," Wilder urges. "I need to get back to Cash."
I nod. "If you ever need me, I'm only three doors down. I'm not going anywhere."
He holds my hand tighter before letting my fingers fall through his. I get out of the truck and wonder if there will ever be a day that Wilder Cox lets himself have the things he longs for.
Chapter 34
The Toxic Mentality
