Page 124 of The Summer of Wild

"Believe it or not," I look over at him, "I do understand why you ran away to Europe for the summer. If I had been in your shoes, I probably would have done the same thing."

"You're not mad at me?"

Mad? No. I mean, would I have fallen madly in love with Wilder if Cash hadn't left? Probably not. I'd be stuck where I was two months ago; trying to figure out a way to maintain a long-distance relationship with Cash. I am annoyed, though. Annoyed that he left without telling us the truth and returned expecting things would be just as he left them.

"I think the way you left was really shitty. I also think the way you came back was just as shitty. And how you're treating Wilder, that's also—"

"Shitty," Cash finishes. "I've got it."

"You can be mad about what happened," I tell him, "but I'm not apologizing. I'm not sorry I spent the summer with Wilder."

I gaze out the window. It hurts to say his name. Hurts to remember not that long ago, we were blissfully swimming in the creek as the day was coming to an end.

I want to go back. Why can't I go back?

"I still love you," Cash mumbles barely loud enough for me to hear.

Frustrated, I cross my arms over my chest. "What do you want me to say to that?"

"Nothing," Cash replies. "I just wanted you to know."

"Okay."

After our exchange, there's a lull in conversation. I don't speak, and neither does Cash. In a way, it feels like old times. Back before he left for Europe. There were so many quiet car rides. Years of quiet car rides. Rides where I'd wonder if this was normal—the deafening silence.

With Wilder, there was never any awkward silence. There was just him and me. Two people with the same wound who never ran out of things to say to one another.

God, I miss him.

The Allred mansion is decorated in deceptive bright lights as we pull into the driveway. It's surreal to think I used to walk into that house believing Archibald and Fanny had a great marriage. That they were superior to the rest of us because they'd managed to build a life of luxury. But they didn't. Instead, they built a home full of loneliness and decided to hide it from the world.

"You ready?" Cash holds out a hand.

I close my eyes and give myself a moment to tap into Old Ingrid. The one who always put a smile on her face, convinced being Cash Allred's girlfriend was a privilege she didn't deserve.

"Ready," I smile wide.

Holding Cash's hand isn't as uncomfortable as I thought it might be. My heart doesn't flutter as his thumb rubs the back of my hand. It doesn't excite me. Honestly, I don't want to be holding Cash's hand, but I can't think about that right now. I have to focus on tonight. Getting the job done, then moving on with the rest of my life.

There's a group in the sitting room as a local artist plays the harp and bubbly champagne is passed around. Familiar faces whisper to each other after noticing our late arrival. Cash grabs a glass flute and takes a long sip.

He offers it to me, but I shake my head. "I'm good."

Cash squeezes my hand as Archibald and Fanny enter the room. Fanny giggles and points to Archibald's crooked bowtie. She adjusts it as his hand slowly finds her backside and he pats it playfully. An act. One they've perfected over the years. Just like I had. Before Wilder showed me what life outside of the deceptively bright Allred mansion looks like.

"We're so glad you could join us," Fanny beams as she's handed a glass of champagne. She scans the room, her eyes taking in the twenty or so of us spread out in her floral-decorated sitting area. When her gaze lands on me, anger flashes across her face before she subtly elbows Archibald, who immediately notices Cash's hand tangled in mine.

"Dinner will be served soon," Archibald announces as he narrows his eyes at me. "Why don't we all make our way into the dining room."

I swallow hard, willing myself not to lose my nerve.

"Ingrid," I hear Cash to my right. I look over at him. "Look at me. Don't look at them."

A small part of my heart throbs at his words. I needed to hear those words so many times when we were together. Why is he saying them now? Now, when they mean nothing.

"Cash, dear," Fanny calls out to her son.

He ignores her as his free hand raises to my face and he slowly slides a curl behind my left ear. "Just keep looking at me, okay?"

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