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"I'll do my best," I promise.
"She doesn't really do well on her own and she doesn't like going places alone. You have to make sure you tell her she's beautiful because Isla has spent years telling her she's not. Her parents mean well, but they don't always know how to make things better for her. A tub of ice cream and a funny movie usually help. And, Wild," Cash pauses for a second, "when she's sad, she likes to cry while listening to the thunderstorm app on her phone. She forgets to turn it on. Make sure you turn it on for her. She'll tell you that the weather understands her better than most people. I'm not sure it's true, but it's what she believes."
I feel something strange tickling my chest. A mix of gratefulness and grief. Grief in choosing Ingrid, I'm losing Cash. Gratitude that he seems to understand, even if it’s painful for him.
"I'll remember all that," I take a sobering breath.
"I've messed up," Cash smiles to himself, "but I'm making things right. Mostly for Ingrid. When she talks about me, can you do me a favor?"
"Yeah," I manage to get out.
"Can you let her have the good memories? Don't taint them with the way I left or how terrible I let my mother treat her."
"You're not going anywhere," I swallow hard. "We're still friends. All three of us."
"You guys don't want me to be your friend."
"We do."
"I'll need time, Wild."
"We'll be waiting."
Cash parks in front of the police station. He grips the flash drive in his hand and tosses me his keys. "I'll be here for a while. You mind waiting?"
He sounds nervous asking me for one last favor, but I'm not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.
"I'll be here."
He gets out of the truck and walks into the police station, glancing over his shoulder at me before disappearing into the building.
Chapter 35
The Last Hurrah
The sun is shining bright as I look over my class schedule. A late August breeze wafts through the front yard, wrapping itself around me. This is my last free weekend before I'm officially a college student. Until Wilder, Cash, and I are all students at the same college. At least for this semester.
I'm not sure what happened, but Wilder and Cash seem to have worked out their differences. I wouldn't say they're friends like they used to be, but Cash doesn't act like he hates Wilder anymore. And Wilder doesn't think Cash is going to destroy him.
There's distance. The kind that makes the silence uncomfortable and the underhanded remarks painful.
But like Wilder, Cash has trauma of his own. Trauma that needs to heal. Trauma that can't be fixed with an apology.
"What are you thinking?" Wilder asks as he kisses my bare shoulder.
I turn my head and smile up at him. "I was thinking about healing."
Wilder runs his fingers through my hair. "What about it?"
"I was thinking about Cash," I admit, "and how he's going to have to heal from the mess his parents created."
"Archibald wasn't involved in the framing scheme," Wilder reminds me.
"No," I shake my head, "but with Fanny posting bail, Cash has a long road ahead of him. He turned his mom in. Fanny Allred isn't going to forget that any time soon. And Archibald abandoned his son. Cash told me he moved in with Clementine and hasn't spoken to him much since."
"At least Archibald and Clementine can finally be together," Wilder rolls his hazel eyes.
"What about you?" I turn it around on him. "When are you going to let yourself heal?"
