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“But I’m hungry now,” Lark argues, frowning over at me. If Molly was here, she would’ve already eaten, and I’ve been making shit that has the kids practically starving at this point.
“I’ll order a pizza.”
The girls squeal their excitement while I mindlessly fish my phone out of my jeans. I mean to search for a pizza place around here to deliver, but I end up in my text messages and send yet another unanswered one to Molly.
She’s tortured me enough and I’m done waiting. I’ve had time to think about how fucking stupid I’ve been and if she thinks I’m going to let her off this easy, she’s delusional as all hell.
ME: You need to tell me where you are so I know you’re safe.
ME: You should’ve told me, Molly.
ME: I’m over here worried sick about you.
I hate admitting to the last one but I am. Molly is pregnant with my child and she’s been upset for over two weeks now because I won’t talk about our fight.
Our first one.
And, fuck me, how I possibly overreacted. All of this could’ve been resolved if I would have just gotten it over with and stopped making her feel like shit. I allowed my past relationship with Olivia to cloud my judgment and harp on it to the woman who isn’t anything like her.
Molly has told me several times that she was never going to release the article, but I can’t comprehend why she would’ve written it at all.
Why, even though she knew my past with relationships and the press and that I’d be so turned off by the idea of being written about like that, she still did it anyway.
Exiting out of my messages, I quickly find a pizza joint and order up a large. I’m just about to check out when a notification comes in from Molly.
MOLLY: I’m fine.
I immediately click on it. My heart is going a million miles an hour as I type out a response that isn’t going to be received well.
However, this is me upset.
This is me when she’s not complying and when I need her to realize that her well-being is my first priority. That I will do everything to make sure she is cared for. Because, in the grand scheme of things, I’m still in love with Molly and I still wish for her to be in my life.
Even though I don’t deserve it.
A man who gives a shit would do anything to make sure she isn’t upset. Even if I am. If Molly is going to be a top priority, she needs to be one over my emotions as well.
Which is amazing in its own right, because I never forgive and forget. I don’t give out second chances and I don’t like fighting. I’m not one who trusts easily, but despite all that I could never let Molly go. It’s as though I handed her all the power over me and I never want to get it back.
It’s ludicrous, honestly.
There’s no reason why I should still be holding on. Molly may be having my baby but it doesn’t mean we have to stay together. It doesn’t have to be that we’re in the same house and I’m taking care of her.
She doesn’t need taken care of.
I want to do so all the same.
ME: I want you back here right now.
I blow out an exhale, aware that my aggressiveness isn’t going to win me any brownie points, but she’s pushing a bar here. And it’s one that’s about to shove me over the edge.
MOLLY: I already told you that I’m not staying there.
ME: And you didn’t give me two weeks’ notice either.
MOLLY: You’ll be fine. You don’t need me and it’s unhealthy for the both of us to be in that house together.
ME: Our personal problems have nothing to do with your job.
