Chapter Twenty-Nine
The Room Renovator
Wilder
I’m tired. My muscles ache. Maybe it’s not even my body. Maybe it’s something deeper. Like my soul.
Even if I never liked Margot, I didn’t want her to die. I just… didn’t want to have a relationship with her.
Which is fair.
And Margot? She always seemed to respect that.
But now that I’m pulling up to Ingrid’s house, I wonder what would have happened if I had reached out. Showed up once in a while for dinner. Went on one of those damn trips Elowyn always wanted me to go on with them.
I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.
Other than my mom, I’ve never been anyone’s first choice. I’ve always come second to Margot and Elowyn. And Cash.
For the most part, I’ve been good with that. I don’t need to be the most liked person in the room. I don’t even need to be chosen first. I’m not like Cash. I don’t thrive in competition.
But every once in a while, it wouldn’t be so terrible to be someone’s first—and only—choice.
And all I can think about now is how insane it is to be thinking about being first when someone died.
Death is morbid. I’ll give it that.
“I can’t believe we’re already home,” Ingrid groans beside me in the passenger seat, pulling me out of my dark, twisty thoughts. “How does this road trip feel like the shortest and longest trip of my life?”
Cash chuckles from the back seat. “Because it was.”
I should say something, but silence is just easier.
It requires less of me.
And right now, I have nothing worthy to give anyone.
I’m drowning in guilt and regret. But what if that guilt isn’t really mine to carry?
What if I’m doing what I always do? Take on the weight of everyone else’s problems?
“We marked off every bucket list item,” Ingrid proudly proclaims. “We did it.”
Another bucket list. Another summer.
But this one felt different.
So much different.
“Well,” Cash clears his throat as he flings open the car door. “I am going to head down to the house and take a long, hot, overdue shower.”
“I’ll be down in a bit,” I say to him.
Ingrid clocks it immediately. “We can shower here,” she suggests.
I glance up at the house. There’s an anxious knot coiling in my gut. There’s a fifty-fifty chance Isla wormed her way into Ingrid’s room. And if she did, the next ten minutes are going to be hell.
I’m not even talking metaphorically.
Ingrid will lose it.
“Let’s unpack, then we can figure it out,” I say.
“You two ever figure out who won that bet you had going?” Cash asks as I step out of the car and stretch my arms over my head.
“Obviously, I did,” Ingrid interjects. “I did not go skinny dipping.”
“No,” Cash grumbles. “But you did go tent dipping.”
Ingrid rolls her eyes. “That’s not even a thing.”
“We’ll do separate tents next time,” I jokingly insert myself.
“I’ll bring my ear plugs then,” Cash retorts.
Ingrid laughs.
And the sound makes something tight in my chest ease. Just a little.
There’s a lot on my plate.
Margot’s funeral.
NYU.
Money.
Ingrid.
Now that we’re home, I’m not sure it’s the right choice anymore.
“Oh no,” Ingrid groans.
“What?” I ask, snapping my head up.
Her hands slide around my waist. “I know that look Wilder. You’re having second thoughts.”
“About?” I swallow hard.
“And that’s my cue to leave,” Cash says.
“You’re worried about New York,” Ingrid exhales.
I don’t know how she knows. But she does.
“There’s just a lot going on and I’m… struggling.”
Her eyes soften. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
Ingrid nods slowly. “I’ve been thinking for the past ten hours about us.”
Us?
That doesn’t sound good. Does it?
“What about us?” I ask, my voice high-pitched.
“I was just wondering if leaving—if going to New York—was the right choice. I know we’ve spent the whole trip going back and forth, and I… Elowyn lost her mom. We can’t just leave her, can we?”
I run my fingers through her hair.
Maybe I’ve been second most of my life. But right now? Right now, I know I’m first.
Ingrid always puts me first.
I need to do the same.
“I am going to apply for student loans, scholarships, all of it,” I tell her. “Until we figure out if we’re moving to New York—or an apartment across town—we’ll be here for Elowyn. But we can’t put our life or our future on hold. I’m not doing that to us.”
Ingrid smiles. “I’d do it if that’s what you needed.”
“I know,” I sigh. “But that’s not what I need right now.”
I just need her.
She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. “Wanna fool around?”
“Shower or bed?” I suggest with a flash of my eyebrows.
“Both?” Ingrid teases.
We grab our bags and head up the front walk. I glance around, searching for any sign that life in the Winthrop house is… well, dramatic.
No screaming. No yelling. Nothing.
The front door creaks open and Ingrid exhales. “Don’t you think it’s weird how every house has a smell, but the people who live in it can’t smell it?”
I chuckle. “I’ve never thought of that, but yes, it is weird.”
“My house smells like pears,” Ingrid says.
“I thought you said the people who live in the house can’t smell—”
“I can,” she insists. “It smells like home.”
“Speaking of home,” I say. “Where is everyone?”
“Working,” Ingrid says simply.
I shrug and set our bags by the front door.
Then, I follow Ingrid up the stairs. When we reach her closed bedroom door, she leans against it and wraps her arms around my neck.
“Thank you for another great summer,” she whispers.
“We still have—”
But I don’t finish.
She pushes up onto her toes and kisses me, her mouth wet and warm.
I melt into her, needing her more than I realize.
She kisses me harder, her lips molding to mine as I reach for the doorknob.
I turn, but it’s locked.
“The door,” I mumble between kisses.
Ingrid breaks the kiss and pulls a key out of her back pocket.
Before she unlocks the door, her hand slides down the front of my shirt, then over jeans. She smiles as she wraps her hand around my hard dick straining against the thick fabric.
“I can’t wait to be alone with you,” she coos. “Without interruption.”
She unlocks the door and pushes it open.
The sound that leaves her throat is enough to burst my eardrums.
Ingrid’s room isn’t… Ingrid’s anymore.
It’s…
“Puke green!” Ingrid roars. “She painted my room! She took out all my furniture! Is that a crib?!”
My dick—understandably—softens.
“Who does she think she is!” Ingrid screeches. “I can’t believe this. Where am I supposed to sleep?”
Then, she starts ripping paintings of flowers off the wall and throwing them. Curtains come down. Children’s books are flung across the room.
“We weren’t even gone that long!” Ingrid continues, her voice shaky and raw.
I stand in the doorway, not sure how Jason and Jill could let Isla do this to her.
And it hits me that Ingrid isn’t other people’s first choices either. She’s always tossed aside. She’s always picked last.
But she will always be first to me.
I walk across the room and place a hand on her shaking shoulders.
“Ingrid,” I say.
She turns to face me, tears streaking down her cheeks.
“How could they let her do this?” she asks me.
I swallow hard. “I don’t know.”
“I don’t have a place anymore.” Then, she bursts into tears.
She lays her head against my chest as I hold her, listening to her cry.
There are a lot of people who need me. Cash needs a room. My room. Even though he has a dad and a whole mansion. Elowyn needs a brother. A friend. Even though she has my dad. She has a house and a life that’s been much easier than mine.
But Ingrid.
Ingrid needs me, too.
And if I have to choose between staying and taking care of everyone, and her. I choose her.
I choose New York.
I choose the hard, difficult path because that’s what’s best for us.
“Hey,” I say softly.
Ingrid looks up at me, her eyes filled with tears. “How could they let her do this?”
“Let’s get our bags and head down to my house.”
“Where are my things?” she asks me.
“I don’t know,” I tell her. “But we can figure it out tomorrow.”
She wipes the tears off her cheeks and looks around at the destroyed room.
“I think I want to break up with my family,” she says as she sniffles. “I can’t do this anymore.”
I don’t say anything because I don’t know what to say. Isla has gone too far. Jason and Jill have gone too far.
This is… it’s like being replaced without anyone in your family leaving.
I can’t believe they treat her this way.
“Are you as m-mad as I-I am?”
“Yes,” I respond. “Let’s go before I break the crib in two.”
Despite everything, Ingrid gives me a small smile. “I’d pay money to see that.”
“Not today,” I say softly.
She grabs my hand and we head down the hall, down the stairs and to the front door. As quickly as I can, I toss our bags over my shoulder and we head out.
“We should drive,” Ingrid says. “Before Isla steals my car.”
“Good thinking,” I say.
We hop in. Go through the motions. Park three doors down.
Cash is just getting out of the shower when we arrive.
“What happened?” he asks, towel tied around his waist.
“Isla turned her room into a nursery,” I tell him.
“That bitch!” he responds.
Ingrid and I look at each other.
“Did you just—” she starts
“I did,” Cash says. “Seriously, what is wrong with your family?” he asks Ingrid.
She shrugs. “I’m officially breaking up with the Winthrops.”
“I would, too,” Cash agrees.
“I will now be Ingrid No Last Name,” she declares.
Cash smirks. “I like it.”
“I would like to take a shower and a long nap,” Ingrid says to me.
“We can make that happen,” I tell her.
And we do.
She showers while I put fresh sheets and blankets on my bed. Cash gets dressed in the closet. Then, we rehang the TV so we can all watch a movie when Ingrid is done in the shower.
“This should feel weird,” Cash says. “Sharing a room with you two. But I’m kind of used to it.
Suddenly, a thought pops into my head.
“You should come with us to New York,” I say.
Cash scoffs. “But Johns Hopkins is in Baltimore.”
“Screw medical school,” I say to Cash. “What do you really want to do with your life?”
He shrugs. “No idea.”
“I know what I want to do,” I tell him. “We can get an apartment, work, go to school, figure it out.”
“You should talk to Ingrid about that before you make any plans,” Cash warns.
“I will but think about it. Okay?”
“Okay,” he exhales.
By the time Ingrid is showered, in her pjs and has a glass of water on my bedside table, I’m wrecked.
I want to take a shower, but cuddling with her? I’d much rather do that.
“What movie are we going to watch?” Ingrid asks us.
“Your choice,” I say to her as I hand her the remote.
“Blood and gore,” she decides.
Cash crashes on his cot in the corner while Ingrid lays her head on my chest, her warm body molding perfectly to mine.
“I love you,” she whispers as her eyes close.
“I love you, too,” I say quietly.
“I also love you guys,” Cash adds in.
Ingrid laughs and before we’re five minutes into the movie, she’s already passed out.
Her family is done hurting her.
That ends today.