If he feels the loss of that telepathic connection, Wrench hardly seems to show it. Any dampening in his mind is easily replaced with something he trusts much better anyhow: what's right in front of his face. Wrench is good at reading people. He's spent a lifetime learning how to extract meaning from everything but their words. Most of the time, it's not difficult to get a sense of what a person is feeling, and Wanda doesn't seem to be trying to hold it back. She might not like the emotion that pours out of her, but it's there anyway. A clear display of just how much this all means to her.

Maybe he'd be glad to think she can't feel him as easily as she did a moment ago, because Wrench's emotions don't rise similarly. The story she tells is a painful one and her resolve should be admirable, but Wrench can't believe it. It hasn't been his experience. Life is one loss after another, and if he were to think he could truly never lose anyone again, he'd only be making a fool out of himself.

Every person he's ever cared about is gone. There's no one left. Maybe that's his version of having nothing more to lose.

I was raised to believe that caring about things means you have a weakness. If you'd do anything for something or for someone, it means you're easily manipulated.

He doesn't know why he shares it. It's more about his life and his upbringing than Wrench has said to anybody so far, and it reveals far more than it should. But maybe Wanda's honesty has inspired his own, at least a little bit.

All those people you have here who care about you would probably want you to be careful.