Letters to Molly: Maysen Jar Series - Book 2

by Devney Perry

  Sex.

  I was having sex with Molly. We didn’t need to dig up everything from the past. I didn’t need to think about the past.

  When it was all blocked off, secured away in the dark corner of my mind that I refused to visit, I ran warm water on a washcloth for Molly. Then I went back into the bedroom and handed it over to my wife.

  Ex-wife.

  “No.”

  Molly’s gasp woke me up.

  “Mom?”

  Kali’s voice sent me flying out of the bed.

  “Ew.”

  Max’s groan sent me back into the bed when I remembered I was buck-ass naked.

  Fuck. The sunrise cast a faint glow on the window’s shades and I glanced at the clock. Five in the morning. It was too early for the kids to be awake during summer break. Fifteen more minutes and my alarm would be blaring. I’d have been dressed and halfway out the door.

  “What are you guys doing up?” Molly asked, holding the sheets to cover herself. Her hair was everywhere, her cheeks crimson red.

  “I don’t feel good.” Max held his stomach as he came to the bed, not caring that his parents were in it together. Naked.

  “He threw up,” Kali said. “I heard him in the bathroom.”

  “You’re sick? Oh, no.” Molly stretched for the throw blanket she kept at the foot of the bed. She yanked it up, replacing it as a cover for her chest as she slid out of bed. Then she wrapped it around herself like she did with her towel after showering.

  I took the sheet with me as I stood, winding it around my hips and holding it up with a hand.

  Molly rushed to Max, her hands going right for his forehead and cheeks. “You’re hot.”

  He leaned his face into her palms. “Can I still go to camp today?”

  “Sorry, honey. I don’t think so. Not if you’re sick.”

  “Ah.” His face crumpled, his eyes welling with tears. “I really want to go.”

  “I know.” She pulled him into her arms as he collapsed against her chest. “Let’s rest today and hopefully you’ll feel up for it tomorrow.”

  He sniffled and nodded, his eyes drifting shut.

  I walked over and knelt down, ruffling Max’s hair. “Want to come and hang out with me today? You can rest on the couch in my office and watch the iPad.”

  Molly looked up. “I can stay home. Poppy can cover the restaurant today.”

  “It’s up to you. If it’s easier for me to take him along, I can.”

  She stroked Max’s hair. In just moments, he was practically asleep on her shoulder. “I’ll stay home with him.”

  “Okay. Then I’ll take Kali to camp and pick her up tonight.”

  Kali stood back from the three of us. Her eyes were full of confusion as they darted between me and Molly.

  An invisible fist closed around my heart, making each beat hurt. The disbelief in her gaze. The hope. We were going to crush it.

  Fuck. What have we done?

  “You stayed here?” she whispered.

  “I did.” I wasn’t sure what to say but the truth couldn’t hurt. Much.

  “B-but—”

  “Come on.” Molly stood up, cutting Kali off. She hoisted Max up with an oomph, his legs circling around her waist. He was too big for her to carry but her strength never ceased to surprise me. “Let’s go to the living room. Then we can talk.”

  Kali spun around slowly then hesitantly led the way.

  “I’ll carry him.” Though I wasn’t sure how, since I needed one hand to hold up my sheet.

  “I’ve got him.” Molly shook her head. “You get dressed.”

  But instead of finding my clothes, I followed her out into the living room.

  Kali was perched on the edge of the couch with her arms wrapped around her stomach.

  Max was in a daze as Molly laid him down next to his sister.

  She kissed his forehead. “Be right back.”

  Molly and I both rushed to her bedroom. She went right for the bathroom, grabbing a red silk Kimono robe she hadn’t had when we’d been married.

  I scrambled to find my clothes strewn on the floor and pulled them on. “What are we going to tell them?”

  She came out, tying her hair up as she walked. “The truth.”

  We’d always been honest with Kali and Max, even when they were little. I don’t think either of them had really understood what it meant when we’d told them about the divorce. Max had only been two and Kali four. But they’d learned over time. When we’d had Mommy nights and Daddy nights, when good nights were done via FaceTime, they’d learned.

  Molly and I shared a worried glance as we headed for the living room. The kids may have adjusted to our divorced lifestyle, but that didn’t mean finding their parents in bed wouldn’t have an impact. Goddamn it. This conversation was going to be miserable.

  When we reached the living room, my heart sank. The distraught look on Kali’s face was the reason we shouldn’t have started up this affair. I hated that I put it there.

  Molly sat in between the kids, taking Kali’s hand from her lap to hold it on her own.

  I went to Max, picking him up so he could lean against my side. “Wake up for a second, big guy.”

  He nodded, cracking his eyes open. Then I looked to Molly, hoping she knew where to start because I didn’t have a damn clue.

  “Dad slept here last night. With me.” She cut right to the chase.

  “Are you getting back together?” Kali asked.

  “No,” Molly said gently. “No, we’re not.”

  My daughter’s frame shrank, confusion becoming devastation.

  “We love you both so much. I’m sorry if this is confusing.”

  Kali didn’t say a word. Neither did Max.

  Molly’s worried gaze met mine as we waited for the kids to say something. Anything. But as the minutes wore on, I realized there wasn’t anything more to say.

  “If you guys want to talk about it, we’re here,” I told them. “Always.”

  Kali stood and looked to Molly. “Can I stay home today too?”

  “Sure, sweetheart. You guys can get snuggled on the couch. I’ll turn on a movie.”

  I stood up to let Max lie down. Kali took the corner where Molly had been sitting. When they were both covered with blankets and the television was on quietly, I followed Molly back to the bedroom, closing the door behind us.

  “We can’t do this to them, Finn. Not again.”

  “I know.” I rubbed my jaw. “Ready or not, we have to stop.”

  She sat on the edge of the bed, leaving a space for me to sit too. With our thighs touching, I put a hand between us, palm up. She instantly put hers palm down, threading our fingers together.

  “It was always going to end, wasn’t it?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. It was.”

  “I’m not sorry.”

  “Neither am I,” she whispered. “Maybe this was the ending we should have had all along. The one we missed because we were too busy being angry and bitter and hurt. I like this ending much better.”

  “So do I.”

  We sat together, hands clasped, until it was time to break apart. When she attempted to pry her fingers loose from mine, I didn’t let go at first. But she wiggled them again and I had no choice. When she stood and walked to the bathroom, I felt it again.

  The hole.

  It had been gone for the last month, temporarily filled.

  I stood from the bed and went to the bathroom door to say good-bye. I pushed it open a crack. In the shower, Molly’s shoulders were hunched forward, shaking.

  She was crying.

  Fuck, but I wanted to hold her. I wanted to promise that it would be okay. We’d figure it out together.

  But we’d tried that once. I’d made those promises when we’d been married and hadn’t kept a single one.

  So I backed away, closing the door to just a crack so she wouldn’t think I’d been watching.

  “I’m going to take off,” I called.

  “O-
okay.”

  “Bye.” I closed the door and sagged against the frame. Then I did what I should have done last night. I left.

  Everything about it felt wrong. I was leaving Molly in tears. Max was sick on the couch. Kali had retreated into her own world, barely saying a word as I kissed her good-bye.

  I didn’t drive home but to work instead, wearing yesterday’s clothes. If I went home, I’d shower. I didn’t want to shower, not when Molly’s scent lingered on my skin.

  I was the first to arrive at Alcott. My truck was parked alone in front of the office, like it had been many, many mornings. Before I got out to go inside, a memory hit me hard.

  When Max was one, he’d gotten sick with a summer cold. Molly got it too. She was miserable and asked if I could stay home for the day to entertain Kali. I left for work instead, leaving her to handle the kids alone. I parked alone that morning too. What I should have done all those years ago was turn around. Or better yet, not left in the first place.

  “Goddamn it,” I cursed at the steering wheel.

  I was making the same mistakes over again, except today was different. I couldn’t go back to Molly’s and fix this. If I went back, I would just make it worse and confuse the kids even more.

  So I went inside the office and turned on my computer. I worked unfocused and angry, wondering how many other mistakes I’d made, knowing there had been many.

  I stared at design plans for a project, the lines and words blurring together. Work, my constant companion, wasn’t such good company today. This wasn’t my refuge anymore. I couldn’t solve this problem by working harder.

  I’d always thought that if Alcott was successful, it would give me more freedom to help at home. It would ensure that Molly and the kids would be fine if anything ever happened to me. If I died, they’d be set for life.

  Goal attained. Alcott was successful, whether I was at the helm or not.

  And it had cost me everything. It had cost me my wife.

  Something I’d realized a bachelorette party and one-night stand too late.

  Eleven

  Molly

  Finn and I kept our distance from one another the week after the kids found us together. We retreated to our post-divorce routine, where the kids were at his house or mine and with only one parent present. Our only time spent together was when we were making the switch.

  The universe must have known I couldn’t handle another letter because I hadn’t gotten one all week. I didn’t have the energy to relive the past or the courage to talk about the way things had been.

  It was better this way, the single way.

  It was better to focus on the now. Finn and I were not in love. That love was history.

  The kids had been in off moods all week—no surprise there. Max had recovered quickly from his twenty-four-hour stomach bug and had spent the rest of the week at camp. He’d been quiet all week, his smiles rare. Kali’s had been nonexistent. She’d been so excited for camp, but because she was angry and confused, she went each day with a bad attitude. I felt awful for the counselors.

  Because it was all my fault.

  I’d gotten lost in memories. I’d let those letters cloud the reality of my situation. I’d gotten swept up, for the second time in my life, by Finn.

  I wouldn’t think of my affair with Finn as wrong. It had felt so good to be touched, caressed, kissed . . . wanted. But I would think of it as reckless.

  Having the kids catch us had been sobering. Mostly, I didn’t want Kali to think less of me. I didn’t want my daughter to grow up thinking I was at her father’s disposal. That wasn’t how Finn treated me. I knew that. But did she?

  The morning was quiet as I sat at the kitchen table, eating my breakfast alone. I’d gotten up early, unable to sleep, and made myself some oatmeal. It was Finn’s favorite, which was not why I’d made it. It was my favorite too.

  With the bowl empty, I stared at my fingers. You could barely see the indentation from my wedding rings now. It had taken a long time to fade, or maybe it only seemed like a long time because my finger looked naked without my wedding and engagement rings.

  They were upstairs in a small box in my dresser. I’d taken them off three days after the divorce. I probably would have kept them on longer but I hadn’t wanted Finn to see them. He’d taken his off the day before we’d signed the papers. I’d waited until it was official.

  For a year, I’d slip them on occasionally. Usually on nights when I was alone and missed him terribly. But I hadn’t had that urge for ages. Why did I want to this morning?

  I shoved that temptation from my mind and got up to rinse my bowl and leave for work. I’d be early this morning and that was fine by me.

  I went out the front door instead of the garage, wanting to check the mail before leaving. I walked down the porch steps, but instead of heading to the mailbox on the street, I paused and looked the other direction.

  Gavin’s lights were on. The blinds were open to his office and he was already sitting at his desk, his eyes glued to a computer screen.

  Forget the mailbox. I walked across my lawn, crossing the invisible boundary onto his, and marched up to his front door, not letting myself hesitate a second before knocking. I shifted from one foot to the other as his footsteps approached from inside.

  When he opened the door, I forced a breathless smile. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” His eyebrows came together as he glanced over at my house. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah,” I said too loud. My heart was racing. “It’s good. Great. I was, um . . .” I took a deep breath. “I was just wondering if you’d like to go out to dinner with me. On a date.”

  “Oh.” Surprise flashed across his face. “A date?”

  “A date.”

  “I, uh . . . yeah.” He adjusted his glasses on his face. “I’d like that. But I have to be honest. I’ve noticed your ex’s truck in the driveway. A lot.”

  “He’s been working on the yard.”

  “I noticed that too. Not exactly what I’m talking about though.”

  Damn it. No doubt Gavin had noticed Finn’s truck—and Finn missing from the yard—because he’d been in my bed.

  “The truth is, Finn and I were together for a long time. We didn’t exactly end on the best of terms. I think we both had some unfinished feelings to work through. But it’s over now.”

  “You’re sure? Because, Molly, I like you. I’ve liked you since the day I moved in next door.”

  “Thank you.” A blush crawled up my cheeks. How long had it been since a man had said he liked me? A guy who was kind and sweet. And handsome too.

  “But.”

  “Uh-oh,” I groaned. “Had to throw that in there, didn’t you?”

  “But . . .” Gavin chuckled. “I don’t want to step into the middle of something that’s unfinished.”

  “I get that. But it’s finished. For good.”

  Saying those words stung, more than they should have. But it was time to move forward, painful or not. It was time to take enough steps forward that I’d stop looking backward.

  “Okay.” Gavin grinned. It was a little lopsided and completely cute. “Then I’d love to go to dinner. On a date.”

  “Really?” I’d just asked a guy on a date and he’d said yes. I smiled as my confidence soared.

  “Really. What day?”

  “Good question.” I thought through my schedule. “I don’t have the kids tomorrow. That’s kind of short notice though.”

  “I could do tomorrow.”

  “Then it’s a date. Seven?”

  “Seven.” The phone rang inside and Gavin hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “That’s my first morning conference call.”

  “I’ll let you get to it. See you.”

  “See you.” His smile stretched wider. “Tomorrow.”

  I skipped down the porch steps. The adrenaline rushing through my veins made me want to run over to my house, but I forced my feet to walk.

  I have a date.

&
nbsp; Poppy was going to be so proud.

  I decided to skip the mail. If one of Finn’s letters was in there, it would have to wait. I wasn’t going to let it taint this feeling. Because this morning was about me, not Finn, so I hurried inside and grabbed my things then drove to work.

  Poppy was sitting at the counter when I got there, a steaming latte in front of her and a jar with her delicious spinach and onion quiche. “Hey. You’re here early.”

  “I was up.” I shrugged, going to the coffee pot. A few tables were occupied by happy customers, so before the morning rush hit, I took the few moments alone with my best friend to talk. “So, I have a date tomorrow.”

  She stopped chewing, her eyes blinking twice like she hadn’t heard me right. “A date?”

  “Yes. With Gavin.”

  A flicker of disappointment hit her eyes, but it was gone fast, vanishing with her wide smile. “I like Gavin.”

  “Me too.”

  “I’m glad he finally had the guts to ask you out.”

  “Actually,” I splashed some cream in my coffee and took it over to the counter, “I asked him out.”

  “You did? That’s so . . . bold and modern. I’m impressed.”

  “Thanks.” I smiled. “It was time.”

  “Yes, it was. I’m happy for you, and in my opinion, it’s exactly what you need.”

  I’d come into the restaurant last week to tell Poppy that my fling with Finn was over. I’d expected some disappointment, maybe some shock. Except she hadn’t been surprised because Finn had already told her about the kids finding us in bed. The day it had happened, they’d had one of their lunches together and he’d confessed everything.

  It was how she’d heard about the divorce too. Finn seemed to know the conversations I didn’t want to have with Poppy and had them for me.

  He saved me from having to cry in front of her.

  Crying in front of people, even my best friend, was something I tried my hardest to avoid. My mother had people crying to her all day long. When I was a kid, I remembered her coming home on more than one occasion and saying how happy she was to not have anyone cry to her for a few hours.