Can't Look Away(105)
“I understand.” Hunter nodded. “It’s a completely personal decision. No one can make it but you.”
“But can I ask you something, Hunt? And you’ll be honest with me?”
“Of course.”
A gust of wind blew over the river. Molly tugged her wool hat down so it covered her ears. “Do you think it’s unfair of me not to tell Jake?”
Hunter exhaled, his breath a white cloud. He pointed his chin toward the clear sky, then dropped it to her level. “I think, if I were Jake, I would want to know. He loves you.”
“But he loves Danner Lane more.” Molly swallowed. “Even if he doesn’t realize it. His whole life has been working toward the opportunity he has right now. If the tour in Europe goes well, there’s a chance they might get to play in a few big festivals over there this summer, maybe even as the headliner, which would be major. If I tell him I’m pregnant, that I want to have this kid … I’ll be taking all that away from him. And eventually, he’ll resent me for it, and I’ll resent myself. I saw it happen with my dad. He had two kids by the time he was twenty-seven, and he had to put writing on the back burner because he wasn’t making any money. My mom made him get a ‘real’ job, so he sold cars for a while until he couldn’t stand it anymore. Then shit started to hit the fan, and eventually, she kicked him out.”
Hunter’s gaze softened. “I didn’t realize that was the reason things fell apart with your parents. I’m sorry.”
“I think it’s part of the reason, though my mom has never admitted it. I just know my dad felt like he was wasting his life with us, and she knew it, too, and that weighed on her.” Molly swallowed a hard lump down her throat. “Anyway, I couldn’t stand it if I had to watch Jake give up on his biggest, wildest dream because of me.”
“But what if Jake is different from your dad? What if he doesn’t have to give it up? What if he can have both?”
“That’s the thing.” Molly squinted into the sunlight. “Jake can’t do both. When his focus is the band, there’s nothing else in the world. That’s what’s become clear to me since he left for this tour. I can’t spend my life nagging him to put me first when I know that’s never going to happen. It wouldn’t be fair. To either of us.”
Molly thought of her father’s green station wagon pulling out of the driveway the morning he left, the way that simple but haunting image had defined her childhood. And then Jake’s words were reverberating in her mind again, a slow drip: Sometimes I feel like I don’t know how to be a good man.
She wasn’t going to wait around for another tortured soul to leave her, for Jake’s departure to become something else that defined her, or worse, that defined her child. This time, Molly would be the one doing the leaving. She was taking her life and the fledgling one inside her into her own hands.
Hunter’s gaze fell to the river. “For what it’s worth, Moll, I would never, ever judge you.”
“I know you wouldn’t. That’s part of the reason I wanted to tell you.” Through her mittens, she tightened her grip on the railing. “Anyway. Enough about me. Tell me about the Bahamas. How’s Blair?” Molly asked, though she didn’t really want to know. She’d spent enough time picturing it in her head, imagining the two of them drinking daiquiris and rubbing up against each other on the beach and lounging in their big hotel bed till noon. Molly still couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was about Blair that bothered her so much.
“It was nice to get out of the city, be somewhere warm.” Hunter shrugged. “Blair is fine. I move in to her place pretty soon. My lease here is up in February.”
“That’s right.” Molly gave a rueful smile. “I can’t believe you only lasted a year in Williamsburg.”
“I like it here. Truthfully, I wish I could stay. But Blair doesn’t love Brooklyn, so…” Hunter stared at Molly, at the golden-blond wisps of hair that spun around her face, which was pink from the cold. “She wants to get married.”
Molly’s stomach pitched. “Wow. She said that?”
“Blair is a girl who likes to make plans.” Hunter smiled tightly. “I’m not ready for marriage yet. But we’ll move in together. We’ll see how that goes.”
Molly didn’t know what that meant, but she nodded supportively.
“The wind is about to pick up.” Hunter glanced toward the water again.
“How do you know?”
“See the whitecaps?” He moved closer to her, pointing out over the river, and Molly could smell something minty on his breath. “Way out there, toward the mouth? That’s how you can tell where the wind is. It’s heading toward us, see?”
Molly nodded. She’d always been impressed with Hunter’s knowledge of the water. He knew more about things like wind patterns, currents, and tides than anyone she’d ever met.
“The nerdy facts you learn being raised in a family of sailors.” He grinned. “It’s cold. Are you hungry? Let’s get you some buttered noodles.”
Molly felt better after spending the afternoon with Hunter, but when she got back to her apartment after lunch, she was hit with a debilitating wave of sorrow. Jake was gone, but he was everywhere—his favorite hoodie tossed over the arm of the couch; his old Crosley record player on the table in the corner; the spices he cooked with that he’d organized alphabetically in the pantry; the little white desk he’d found and painted for Molly just after they’d moved in together.