by Devney Perry
“What about the next day? You could have confronted me the next day.”
“It was too late. After . . . after it was done, when I came to tell you the truth, I tried to tell you everything. I tried to tell you that I’d been blitzed out of my mind. That there was this group of guys following us from bar to bar. That one of them was flirting with me. But you didn’t want to hear it.”
“I didn’t then. I don’t now. So, stop. Just stop.”
“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?”
He hesitated, long enough that I knew his answer would be honest. “I know.”
We sat there in silence for a long time. The birds chirped as they flew between the trees. The slight breeze rustled the leaves. The world was bright and beautiful.
Everywhere but on this step.
The gloom hovered over our heads. The weight of all that had happened sat on our shoulders.
“It’s too heavy,” I said, breaking the quiet.
“What’s too heavy?”
“The past. It’s too heavy to forget.” It was too heavy to forgive.
But that was what needed to happen. We had to forgive. Each other. Ourselves.
How many times had I wished to go back in time and change my actions? How many hours had I spent loathing myself? I’d been living with so much regret. So much guilt.
Until I forgave myself for being human and flawed and impulsive, the past would haunt me.
It would haunt us.
“Can you forgive me?” I asked Finn.
He leaned back to look in my face. His eyes gave me the answer before his mouth. “I don’t know.”
“Fair enough.”
The silence returned, the only noises on the porch coming from the neighborhood. A kid was playing basketball on the next block over and the thud of the ball’s dribbling echoed off the homes. A plane flew overhead, the buzz fading as it ascended into the clouds. The world went on around us without a care as Finn and I sat frozen on the porch, reeling from the truth.
Things might have been so different . . . if only.
If only.
Finn cleared his throat. “My doctor said with my PT going so well, I could get into a different boot or maybe no boot at all in two weeks. Regardless, I should be able to drive by the end of the month. Would you mind if I stayed until then? I’d like a little more time with the kids.”
“Okay.”
As hard as it would be to have him here, it was the right thing to do. I wanted to ease Kali and Max into the fact that we were all splitting up again.
It was for the best.
“I’m sorry, Molly.”
I leaned into his side and rested my head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Finn.”
“I love you.”
I closed my eyes. “I love you too.”
It felt good to say those words. To let them float into the wind and
fade with the sunshine.
It felt good to say those words.
One last time.
- LETTER -
I never thought this would be us. I never imagined we’d be here, getting a divorce.
* * *
I feel like I’m going to wake up tomorrow morning in our bed and this will all have been a nightmare. But it’s real.
* * *
I’m ashamed of you. I’m ashamed of myself.
* * *
You quit me.
* * *
And I quit you.
Seventeen
Finn
“I’m done.” Max rushed over from his corner of the yard.
“Awesome. Let me check.” I pushed up off the grass and slowly made my way to the other side of the yard. My boot had been removed yesterday and the doctor said I’d be fine to walk with only my crutch. But that thing was a pain in the ass, so I’d ditched it in an empty hallway at the hospital and I was taking it slow instead.
Max beat me across the yard and was jumping up and down next to the patch he’d been smoothing out with mulch. “See?”
I grinned. “Looks perfect, son.”
His chest swelled with pride. “What’s next?”
I spun in a slow circle, taking in the yard. Over the last two weeks, I’d spent most of my free time out here. With things being tense and awkward with Molly, I’d escaped to the yard to finish the project I’d started at the beginning of summer.
The odd angles and sharp corners had been removed. The trees and shrubs Molly hadn’t liked—the ones I’d planted as experiments—had been removed. All that remained was to plant her lilac bush.
Kali was on her hands and knees in the opposite corner of the yard, tending to the hole we’d dug. Because lilacs had a tendency to get so large, I wanted this one to have plenty of room to grow and bloom. Even with the distance, the fragrant blossoms would carry across the yard to the back deck. If Molly left the screen open, she’d catch whiffs of the scent all spring.
“Run inside and get your mom,” I told Max.
He nodded and took off while I ambled toward Kali.
“I poured the water in the bottom, just like you said.” She smiled up at me. “What’s next?”
“We’ll take the burlap off the roots and get it set.” I pulled a utility knife from my pocket and bent down, cutting away the cloth from the bush’s roots.
“Dad, I . . .” Kali hesitated, her eyes aimed at the hole.
“What?” I asked gently.
She gave me those sad eyes, the ones that melted my heart. “I wish you didn’t have to go to your house.”
I tossed the knife aside and put my hand on her shoulder. “Me too. But that’s where I live.”
“Do you . . . never mind.” She dropped her gaze to the dirt, spreading some beneath her fingers.
I gave her time, letting her work up the courage to talk. That was the way with Kali. She’d always open up if I didn’t rush her. She was like me in that way. She pondered things before she spoke. She kept more inside than I wished she would.
“This sucks,” she mumbled.
“Yeah, sweetie. It does.”
She looked up at me, her bottom lip worried between her teeth. “Do you think you and Mom might ever get together again?”
My shoulders sank. More than anything, I wanted to tell her yes. To tell her that we’d be a family again. “No. I don’t think so.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“I love your mom.”
“You do?”
I nodded. “I’ll always love your mom. She’s the best person I’ve ever met. And she gave me you and Max.”
“Then I don’t understand. I know Mom loves you too. So why can’t you be together? Don’t you like living here with us?”
“More than anything.” I gave her a sad smile. “I know it’s hard to understand. We love each other, but we have to be able to make each other happy too. And right now, we don’t. Does that make sense?”
She shrugged. “Sorta.”
That was a no. It didn’t make sense. I was struggling to comprehend it all myself. And I was dreading the end of this day.
After our fight two weeks ago, Molly and I had been avoiding one another. It had given me plenty of time to ponder our situation. To dig deep and decide if I could truly forgive Molly for what had happened that night.
Fourteen days, and I wasn’t any closer to the answer.
So today, after the yard was finished, I was going home.
Alone.
“What’s up?” Molly asked as she stepped through the patio door, following Max as he raced toward me and Kali.
“We’re ready to plant the lilac bush.”
She smiled, doing a sweep of the yard. “It looks so wonderful out here.”
“Yeah, it does.” The best yard on earth. Not because of the landscaping, but because of her and the kids. Because we’d built it together.
Molly came over and knelt down next to me and Kali. Max hovered around us, bouncing from one foot to the next as I lifted the bush above the hole.
“Need help?” Molly asked, her hands reaching out.
“I’ve got it.” With the bush placed in the hole, I gave the nod to start pushing in dirt. “Okay, guys. Fill it in.”
Four pairs of hands dove into the dirt, shoving and packing it around the roots.
“That’s it?” Max asked when the hole was filled.
Molly laughed. “That’s it. What were you expecting?”
“I don’t know. I think I like tearing stuff out better than planting.”
I clapped him on the shoulder. “The next time I need an extra hand on a demolition job, you’re my guy.”
“Yes.” He fist-pumped. “Mom, can I go to the park?”
“As long as your sister goes too.”
Max’s eyes snapped to Kali. “Pleeease come with me.”
“Sure.” She smiled and stood, brushing dirt off her bare knees.
Molly tapped the watch on her wrist. “Don’t stay too long. It’s almost dinnertime.”
“Okay, Mom.” Kali nodded before she and Max took off for the gate in the fence.
“Hold up,” I called, pushing off the ground. Then I caught up to them before they disappeared down the neighborhood trail system that led to a playground. “I’m heading home soon.”
“Oh.” Max’s frame slumped. Kali wouldn’t make eye contact with me.
“How about a hug?”
They both rushed me, latching their arms around my waist like they were drowning. I put a hand on each of their heads. “Love you, guys.”
“Love you, Dad,” Kali whispered.
Max just hugged me tighter.
Behind us, Molly stood with her arms snaked around her waist and her gaze pointed anywhere but at us.
We’d talked last night about how this would go. Molly didn’t want to make a big deal about it. She said we’d treat it like any normal day. I wanted to work in the yard. She needed to do some house cleaning. Then when the day was over, I’d go home.
Normal. Routine. Miserable.
“See you guys in a couple days.”
Max nodded against my hip.
Kali pulled away and ducked her head as she swiped at her eyes. “Come on, Max.”
He squeezed me one last time then let go and bolted for the fence.
I watched as they sprinted down the path, their tennis shoes pounding on the packed gravel as they ran. It was a punishing run, like they were both taking their frustration with their parents out on the gravel.
I waited until they were out of sight, then I turned and walked toward the house.
Molly met me on the way and I held the patio door open for her to go inside. The house smelled of bleach and lemon. My cleaning service used the same products as Molly, per my request, but they didn’t smell the same.
This smelled like home.
“Can I help you pack?” she asked, toying with the hair ties on her wrist. Today’s were coral and y
ellow. Neither went with her outfit, but that was what I loved about them. They were always bright.
“No, I’m good. I just need to clear out the stuff from the bathroom and I’ll be set.”
She nodded toward the kitchen. “I’ll just finish in there. Say good-bye before you go?”
“I will.” I went to the guest bathroom and packed up my leather toiletry case. The sound of running water came from the kitchen.
Fuck.
This was harder than it should be. I had a home, a life to get back to. A single life. A life I’d been living for six years. A life I’d told my sister I wanted to ruin, but here I was, rushing back into it.
The past two weeks had been strange. With school in full swing, we’d spent most of our nights helping kids with homework. We’d had dinner together, watched TV if there was time or played a game. And through it all, Molly and I had existed in peace.
Something unexpected had happened since that last fight. It had been calm. Quiet. Like the angry ghost had curled up in its grave to finally rest.
We’d gotten along after the divorce, but this was different. This wasn’t simply a sense of civility or friendship. This week had been . . . easy. It was all out there. The wounds were exposed to the air and they were closing up.
Years too late.
“Finn?” Molly called.
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to grab the mail.”
I hung my head. “All right.”
There was one more letter. One I’d written at the time of the divorce. I’d been walking on eggshells, expecting it to come.
I hoped it would be today. That when I left, we’d be done with them for good.
I quickly finished packing my stuff then went into the guest bedroom and zipped it all into my suitcase. With it loaded and a bulging backpack slung over my shoulder, I made my way to the living room and put them both next to the couch.
Then I waited for Molly to come back inside, holding a stack of envelopes in one hand, a single envelope in the other.
