Page 33 of Wildly Yours
"Statement or question?"
"Statement…question. Both."
"No, I don't hate you. Not anymore. I did. I think. Hate is such a strong word. You broke me, Cody. You were the one person who I thought would always have my back. Who would always be around. And then you just disappeared. I was like a zombie after that. I struggled with my classes, and stopped hanging out with my friends. I…couldn't believe that it was worth getting close to people after that. And now I'm the busy bee around town that doesn't have time for deep connections. I like Zoe and the gang, but they are much closer to each other than I am with them."
He squeezes my hand and then leans toward me, reaching his other hand around my side so he's surrounding me on the couch and looking in my eyes.
"I'm sorry I hurt you. I know it was shitty, but I didn't know how else to protect you."
"Can you see that you don't need to protect me? Not from yourself, anyway. You aren't your father. You're the kind of guy who stands in the face of a bully like Blake and keeps his cool. If anything, you are the opposite of your father. Or at least what I know about your father. Look, can you let this be true?"
"You don't know what you're asking."
"What is at stake? What happens if you let it be true?"
He leans away again, not shifting his focus from me.
"That's like telling a fish they are in water. How does the fish know what water is?"
"No. That's a cop-out and you know it. You have not believed this your whole life. What do you get out of hanging on to this?"
"Believing that I didn't waste seven years that I could have spent with you!"
I didn't know until this very moment that you can feel your body melt like a candle. That's what Cody Barone does to me.
Chapter Eighteen: Cody
"Tell me why you count things."
Serena shakes her head at me. "So you drop a bomb like that and now you want to change the subject. Are you going to flagellate yourself for this, too?"
"You said it was related."
"I did. But I don't think now is the right time to—"
"Please tell me. Let's get it all out in the open."
"Only if you promise that you're going to try to forgive yourself."
"Can you forgive me?"
"Forgiveness isn't the problem now that I understand what happened. The problem I have, is believing I can trust you again."
"You're proving my point."
"How do you figure?"
"Everything changed for both of us because of what I did. You've become someone who believes they can't trust, and I'm someone who believes they are violent. You can't ask me tosuddenly think something different if you aren't willing to do the same."
"It's not a matter of being willing, Cody."
"Do you see my problem?"
She traces a finger along the edge of the cushion, and I see her lips moving as she looks over my shoulder.
"You're doing it again."
"Ugh! Fine. I count things because after you left I was diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder. I learned a technique that helps to come back to the moment whenever my heart starts to race or my mind starts to spin out. It's basically counting things that you see, hear, feel, smell, and taste. Though I usually just focus on things I see."
