“We've apologized a dozen times,” Ingrid exhales sharply. “What more can we do?”
I've been asking that myself for the past two hours. I understand why Cash is angry. If anyone gets it, it's me. I walked in on him doing all kinds of things to Ingrid when they were dating. None of which I ever wanted to think about. But I had to suck it up and quietly shut the door. I had to push it out of my mind and move on. I never made a big deal out of it. Never punished either of them for it.
Fine. I punished Ingrid once. That final time when I egged on Fanny Allred at Cash's going away party. It was shitty of me, but I couldn't believe Ingrid would sleep with Cash after months of him ignoring her. After months of him pushing her away.
“You look deep in thought,” Ingrid interrupts my jumbled thoughts with an elbow nudge.
I use my free hand to run my fingers through her hair. As I tug her closer, she smiles.
“I love you,” I say to her.
She grins sheepishly. “I love you, too.”
I kiss her quickly, fully aware that Cash is lurking somewhere close by.
“I need coffee,” she mumbles against my lips. “And to pee.”
“Fine.” I sigh and press my forehead to hers. “We can make out later.”
“You mean in a week?” She jokes.
I groan. “Don't remind me.”
I hold her hand as we walk into the gas station. Cash rolls his eyes when he sees us. Thankfully, Ingrid doesn't notice.
Eventually, he's going to make me choose. I know he is. He's going to push me to the point where I have to decide whether his friendship is more important or if my relationship with Ingrid is.
I already know who I'm going to choose. That doesn't mean it won't hurt like hell when I finally do. But he's not going to win this one. At some point last summer, when Cash was backpacking through Europeandavoiding me, Ingrid fell in love with me. I was already head over heels in love with her.
But she chose me.
“Can you stand outside the bathroom while I...” Ingrid motions to the fading red restroom door.
“Yes,” I answer knowing full well she’s terrified of being murdered in a gas station bathroom.
“Sorry,” she whispers. “I'll be quick.”
“I'll be right here,” I promise her as she disappears inside.
Cash shakes his head at me as he passes by with his paid merchandise in hand.
“Never thought I'd see the day you were pussy whipped.”
“Did you just saypussy?” I blink slowly.
“Yup,” he answers. “You have a problem with that?”
Confrontational Cash is almost as obnoxious as Martyr Cash. “Nope.”
“Good.”
I nod to him as he stands beside me. I'm not sure what to say, so I shove my hands into the pockets of my jeans and focus on the chipping red paint on the door.
“I'm surprised you didn't go in with her,” Cash starts.
I’m not interested in getting into a pissing match with him.
“You want to drive the next shift?” I change the subject.
