Starting With You

45. I'm not a toy you can take out and play with whenever you want.

Jensen

FINN: Caroline sighted at The 365 Diner this afternoon. And she was looking FINE.

CHARLIE: Time has been kind to her.

VIVI: Seriously. Let it go. No one cares anymore.

SUTTON: Second that.

JJ: Third it.

SULLY: When did we ever care?

I groan as I read through the sibling text chat. It's been a few weeks and they're still talking about my ex-girlfriend's reappearance like it's some big news. I'm over it.

At least I've avoided running into her since that morning with Teddy. Mostly because I barely go into town anymore. I've become a bit of a hermit, avoiding any and every one whenever possible.

I even chose the most remote part of the farm to work all by myself. This decrepit fence has been on my To Do list for years, but it's never been a priority. I must admit it's been a bit cathartic working on it, the manual labor a healthy place for my anger.

Yesterday when I sat at my desk, my office felt more like a prison. The air was stuffy. I needed out before I suffocated. So I strode into Rylie's office and informed her of my new work schedule and just left. It was that easy. Why hadn't I done it years ago?

I didn't stop to think any further than grabbing the supplies I'd need. When I saw Teddy walking through the tall grass toward me, I realized it was the first time I'd even paused to think about anything other than the work. I'd completely lost track of time; and it felt good.

What didn't feel good, however, was seeing my girlfriend cry, especially since I'm the reason for the tears.

I know I've been extra moody lately. Probably not the most fun guy to be around. I can barely stand to be around myself most of the time. But it wasn't until I saw the tears falling down her cheeks and she was backing away from me that it really hit me.

I stewed by myself in my empty apartment last night. Pissed at myself. Pissed at my dad. Pissed at Caroline for having the nerve to show her face after all these years. And even pissed at Teddy for just walking out on me, even when I know that's not exactly fair or true.

I stare at my phone, debating whether I should text her. I haven't seen her since she walked away from me in this very spot yesterday, and I miss her. I've been missing her, if I'm honest.

The words she said yesterday have been rolling around in my head.

The only thing wrong with me is you.

Fuck, I'm an ass. I've been stuck in my head, unable to pull myself together, and she's been there. Patient and understanding. And concerned. She's been concerned. But I keep avoiding it all. Everything. I don't want to talk about it. Drag it all back out in the open. I just want it to go away.

But it's not going away. And I don't know what to do about it.

I scrub a hand down my face and stifle the ball of turmoil in my gut I can feel surfacing, wanting to work its way out. Leaning against the fence, I pull up my text thread with Teddy, giving in to the temptation to talk to her.

ME: Scout missed you last night.

TEDDY: Just Scout, huh?

ME: Not just Scout.

ME: You're coming back tonight, right?

TEDDY: I don't know.

ME: What the fuck, Teddy?