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In a moment, Molly appears on the other side.
The sleeping shirt I gave her in Sedona hangs over her small frame.
She’s wearing my clothes.
My throat dries. My palm shoots up to the cold skin on the back of my neck.
The soft creases around her eyes, the slight dip of her chin. I see it.
I see Molly.
She’s hurting, like I am.
I hate this.
“You’re here,” she whispers.
“You’re wearing my shirt.”
She looks down at it sheepishly and swipes her hands across the fabric.Why are her fingers wrapped in bandages?A pain mines itself into my jaw.
“What happened?” I reach for her. She pulls away.
“Nothing,” Molly replies, devoid of any emotion. “What are you doing here?”
Ouch. This is what I feared. She’s not opening up to me. She’s back behind her walls, hiding herself again.
The reality hurts.
I want my Molly.
“You weren’t answering your phone.” I try to keep my voice steady, but the tickle of worry in my throat makes it almost impossible.
“I had an accident, and it broke. You don’t have to worry about it.” She shrugs. “I already left a note for Olivia to replace it.”
How on earth did her phone break? I saw her on the tarmac only a few hours ago.
“Are you okay?”
“Does it look like I’m okay? Uh—please don’t answer that.” She frowns, swiping at her hair. Betrayal is scribbled in cursive all over her face. “My parents, my whole life is…infuriating. They lied to me and to you.”
The pain in my body intensifies, dealing a final blow that shatters my heart into pieces.
“We can figure it out,” I attempt.
“What’s the point? Nothing I do will ever be right for my family.” Molly spins on her heels and walks into the foyer. I follow her inside, shut the door behind me, and lean against it. The grandiose space feels cold and colorless. “That dinner showed me what their priorities are, and now they’re just playing their little games until I call my own bluff and end things with you. I’m not sure how much longer I can tolerate the way they treat me.” She paces in front of me, arms crossed over her chest.
I’ve never seen her this angry before. Anxious, worried, sad—yes. Molly’s entire body is vibrating with vexation. How do I help her?
“If we plan this holiday party, are they going to give you the trust?”
She halts and aims her pursed lips and sour expression right at me. The fire behind her eyes is something I’ve only witnessed when we made love. But now that same intense gaze burns through me. “The trust.” She lets out a sardonic laugh. “Right, of course. That’s why you’re here.”
My own annoyance flares at the hidden meaning in her words.“Yes, Molly. Your trust. Your ticket to stopping the suffocating grip your parents have over your life.”
She rolls her eyes again. “Back to business, I guess.”
“I drove here in the middle of the night to check on you.” My voice drops an octave. I don’t mean for it to, but the tension in my body is becoming unbearable. “After Sedona, you can’t possibly believe I’m here for any other reason.”
