Letters to Molly (Maysen Jar, #2)(94)

“Why do you ask?”

“I’m trying to—” The timeline of our divorce ran through my mind as I tried to recall exactly when he’d left and when that box should have been taken. “You packed up the week after the divorce.”

“Yeah. So?”

“So . . . are you sure the letters went with you? Or could they have been taken from my house instead?”





- LETTER -





Darling Molly,





You’re asleep in my bed. If I get my way, this will be the only time you wake up in this house. If I get my way, we’ll sit down and tell the kids I’m coming home tonight. If I get my way, I’ll never spend another night without you in my arms.





We’re going to make mistakes. But I promise, if you let me get my way, from here on out my letters will be yours.





You should really let me get my way.





Yours,

Finn





Twenty-One





Finn





“I don’t want to get out,” Kali said from the backseat of Molly’s Jeep. Her eyes were aimed out the window, locked on the yard at Alcott. Locked on the spot where I’d been nearly crushed under a skid steer. “Do I have to?”

“No.” I reached back and put my hand on her knee. “You can stay in the car.”

“Can I stay too?” Max asked. He was staring at his lap, refusing to look up.

“Yeah, son. You can stay. We won’t be long.”

Molly and I shared a glance as she turned off the ignition. We got out and, hand in hand, walked into Alcott.

Once we were inside the office, I glanced over my shoulder. “They’ll never like coming here again.”

“It’s just hard right now. It will pass.”

I didn’t agree. It had been months since the accident, and the few times I’d brought the kids here, they’d both refused to set foot on Alcott soil. They wouldn’t even come into the office.

It was another reason the decision I’d made last week was the right one.

“Come on.” I pulled Molly down the hallway toward my office.

She followed, her gaze roaming over the quiet and empty office that had belonged to Bridget.

It had been over two weeks since Bridget quit. The first week had been chaos. I’d rushed around constantly putting out fires but then things had settled. I found a groove and got through it. I delegated more. I hadn’t missed listening to whatever drama Bridget created. I hadn’t even noticed until she was gone how much drama she caused.

It was refreshing to work hard during the day so I could leave each night on time. Whatever got missed, well, it was there the next morning.

The never-ending tasks didn’t rank as important as they had once.

Molly and I had been inseparable this past week—as inseparable as two adults with two children and two full-time jobs could be. But whenever possible, ever since the morning after our movie date, we’d been together. I’d left my latest letter next to the coffee pot. She’d opened it, read it once and burst out laughing.

Then she’d let me have my way.

That night, we’d sat the kids down and explained we were dating. And by dating I meant I’d be living in their house and sleeping in their mom’s bed indefinitely.

Molly and I had both thought it would be a big deal. That they’d have questions, maybe some concerns. Max’s exact words were, “Cool. Will you go play catch with me?” Kali smiled, gave me a high five then went to her room to draw.

That was it. Then I went to my place to pack up some stuff while Molly cooked dinner. On the way, I called a property management company and started the process of renting out my house.

In seven days, my personal belongings had all been moved home. The kids’ beds had been donated to charity. And today, a guy who’d just relocated to Bozeman was renting my former house with the remaining furniture.

Molly hadn’t said a thing about how quickly we were moving. Her mother had called and warned Molly it was too fast. I’d been standing in the kitchen, listening to the call on speaker. Molly’s response? Not fast enough.

This was our first weekend together as a family. The first weekend we didn’t have to think about kid swaps or separate schedules. We were taking the kids on an easy hike, something I hadn’t done since the accident.

But first, I had to make one last change.

I’d told Molly that I needed to stop by Alcott and pick up some things. It wasn’t a lie. I needed to pick up some paperwork—after she signed it.

We reached my office and my heart was nearly beating out of my chest. My hands were clammy. Sweat beaded at my temples because today I was going to ruin my life.

In the best possible way.

“Okay.” I blew out a long breath and stopped in the middle of the room. “We’re not just here to pick something up. First, I need you to sign some papers.”

“What papers?” she asked, her gaze wary.

“I’m selling Alcott.”

She blinked, shook her head, then blinked again. “You’re what?”

“I’m selling Alcott. Since you own ten percent, I need you to sign the buy-sell agreement so I can get it back to my lawyer.”