Page 132 of Letters to Molly (Maysen Jar 2)

“Molly,” I whispered. “Please. Tell me.”

She met my gaze. “You work with her. I don’t want to cause problems with that.”

“There are problems. No matter what you tell me tonight, we’ve got big problems. And I’d really like to hear it. From you.”

Her chin fell as she nodded. “I think she thought I was a joke when she started at Alcott. That I was just your silly wife, pretending to manage a business. She was curt. Polite, but curt. Then we got divorced. The polite stopped.”

My molars ground together as I forced myself to stay quiet and let Molly continue.

“She took your side. I understood that. But she was nasty, always glaring and muttering things behind my back. Then there was that night, the one where I went to Alcott and she called me a bitch while you were watching TV.”

“I swear I didn’t hear it.” I wouldn’t have let that go. Fuck, I hated myself for that night.

She nodded. “I believe you.”

“What else happened?”

“Well, you told her about me. About . . .”

“The other guy.” I closed my eyes. “Fuck. I’m such a fucking idiot. I never should have told her. What did she do?”

“She stopped muttering things behind my back and told me right to my face that I was a whore.”

What. The. Fuck. My vision turned red. “You’re not a whore.”

“No.” She locked my eyes, her spine straightening. “No, I’m not.”

“Anything else?”

“She’s been her usual bitchy self ever since. I’ve avoided her at all costs.”

“Is that why you stopped coming to Alcott?”

I shrugged. “It’s part of it. Mostly I stopped coming because it was yours, not ours anymore.”

“I’m sorry. I want you to know I’m going to make this right.”

“Don’t stress over it.” She squeezed my hand once then nodded toward the truck. “I don’t need that woman’s approval to be happy.”

No, she didn’t. But she did need to know that I had her back.

And tomorrow morning, Bridget and I were having a discussion.

The drive to Molly’s house was quick and quiet. It was hard to block out the incident with Bridget, but I was determined to get this date back on track. So I drove with one hand, the other holding tight to Molly’s so she knew I was there. I wasn’t letting her pull away.

“Thank you,” I said as I pulled into the driveway.

“You’re welcome. I had a nice time. See you later.” She wiggled her hand free.

“Wait.” I stopped her as she reached for the door handle. “I’ll get it.”

“It’s—”

“Please. Let me open your door.”

“All right.”

I hustled out of the truck and to the other side. With her hand in mine as I helped her down, I sent a silent prayer up to the twilight sky. One kiss. Give me one kiss. If I could get an opening for one kiss, I might have a shot at turning this night around.