Letters to Molly (Maysen Jar, #2)(75)

“No!” I yelled. “You don’t get to pick and choose parts of the story to hear. The guy who was flirting with me was sweet. He called me beautiful. He gave me water when I was getting too drunk. He walked me outside to wait for my cab so I wouldn’t be alone.”

“Stop!” Finn yelled, backing away from me.

“He kissed me. It was dark. I can’t remember if there were other people around, but I remember him kissing me.”

“Molly,” Finn pleaded, taking a step away. “Stop. Please.”

“The next thing I remember was being backed up against a wall. He pulled up my dress and—”

“Shut up!” Finn roared. He threw his crutch, sending it flying across the kitchen and crashing onto the floor. It skidded to a stop by the dining room table.

I flinched. I’d gone too far. I hadn’t meant to share the details with Finn, but the dam had been opened. I’d never told a soul about what had happened that night, not even Poppy. I’d told them I’d had sex with another man and let everyone assume the details.

“It lasted a whole five seconds until I realized what was happening. I pushed him away. I told him I was sorry and then I ran. He wasn’t you, and I knew I’d made a horrible mistake. But it was too late.”

The air in the kitchen stilled. Finn’s chest heaved. His eyes were blank.

I shook from head to toe. I’d finally gotten it all out. Finally relived that night, not only for Finn, but for myself. He wasn’t the only one who’d blocked it out for years. But now there’d be no forgetting. There’d be no ignoring this and pretending we could be that loving couple again.

The dream of Finn and Molly was over.

“Why are you telling me this?” Finn’s voice was flat as he spoke.

“You had your letters. I had nothing. The person I talked to, the person I turned to when my life was upside down, was you. It was always you. And you weren’t there.”

“That’s not a good enough reason to fuck another man.”

“No, it isn’t. And I’m sorry.” My chin quivered uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’m so sorry I betrayed you in that way. It’s something I’ll regret until the end of my life. But it happened. It happened, Finn. It all happened. Just like you being with other women happened. I hate thinking about you with Brenna or any of the others. But it’s there. We have to live with the wounds we’ve inflicted on one another.”

“There weren’t any others,” Finn said so quietly I almost missed it.

“No. I haven’t been with anyone since the divorce. Except you.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Finn looked up, his blank stare gone. “There weren’t any others. Since you, there weren’t any others.”

There weren’t any others? What? “I don’t understand.”

“Women. There weren’t any other women.”

I blinked at him, replaying his words. “You’ve been dating for years.”

“Yes, I have. And not once have I taken another woman to bed.”

My knees had held out until that point, but with that blow, they didn’t have any strength left. I stumbled sideways, my hip crashing into the side of the counter so hard it would bruise.

“No.” I closed my eyes, my hands coming to my face. “No, no, no.”

There were supposed to be other women. They were supposed to even the score. I’d become celibate and Finn had become the town’s most eligible playboy.

But the scales tipped again, right back in his favor.

“What about Brenna?”

He scoffed. “Brenna got tired of waiting around. She gave me an ultimatum. Intimacy or we were done. That was the week before I started sleeping with you.”

My head was spinning and the only thing I could think to say was, “Why?”

“Why? I’ve been in love with you since I was twenty-one years old. I might not wear the ring, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel it there.”

All this time, he’d been free.

And he’d held on to me.

The air in the kitchen was suffocating. I couldn’t fill my lungs. I couldn’t clear the fog, so I bolted past Finn and ran down the hallway toward the front door.

The moment I flung it open and the summer air hit my face, the tears spilled down my cheeks. But I didn’t make it one more step.

“Do not run from me.”

I froze in the doorway at Finn’s booming voice. Behind me, he shuffled to catch up, then his heat was at my back.

“I need air,” I choked out.

“Then we’ll sit on the porch. Together. But don’t you run from me, Molly. Not again. You wanted to open all of this up. It’s open. And we’re not leaving it undone. Not again. So don’t you dare run from me. I’ll break my leg all over again chasing you. And make no mistake, I will chase you.”

I didn’t doubt him for a second.

I turned, the tears making his stern face blurry. “I’m so sorry, Finn.”

“I know.” He took my elbow and escorted us outside. When we were both seated on the front step, he pulled me into his side. “I know.”

“I’d take it back.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”