My heart sinks.
He’s still in love with her.
And she knows.
I think I’m going to be sick. No, really.
“Are you still in love with him?” I ask her, point blank.
She shakes her head and lifts her eyes to meet mine. “No. I’m in love with you.”
“Are you sure?” I press.
Ingrid inhales sharply. “Yes.”
I lift an eyebrow.
“I don’t get it,” she snaps. “I tell you the truth and you still question me. It’s annoying.”
Then, she crosses her arms over her chest.
Great. War it is.
“I can hear you, you know?” Cash quips from three feet away.
I hold up a hand. “Don’t care right now.”
“Don’t be rude to him,” Ingrid warns. “He’s your best friend.”
There’s a brief moment where I almost blow it and tell her that she knows the real truth. Cash might be my oldest friend, but she’s the only person I want to be around. The only one I want to know everything going on in my life. The reason I’m on this shitshow tramway.
“I trust you,” I say, trying to salvage the conversation. “I do.”
“But you’re insecure,” Ingrid rebukes.
Cash lets out a strangled laugh.
I ignore him.
“You have a history with him,” I remind her.
“That you were there for,” she groans dramatically. “And the fact that you can’t see how wrong we were for each other blows my mind.”
“You guys are seriously missing the view,” someone says behind me.
“No one asked you,” Ingrid snaps.
“Sorry,” the person apologizes.
I’m not insecure. I just know how Cash is. There’s never been anything he’s wanted that he hasn’t gotten.
And the fact that she knows he’s still in love with her makes me nervous.
He must have told her.
I never should have gone to bed without her last night.
“Talk to me, Ingrid, please,” I beg.
