by Chloe Walsh
"Due in May," he finally said, attention riveted to the black and white cut-out in his hands. "That makes you…"
"Almost four months along," I filled in, not recognizing the flat tone of my own voice.
"Pregnant. Four months along. Due in May." Dad shook his head. "That's a lot to drop on your old man, Molly Sue."
I stared blankly back at him. "Then maybe you have a slither of understanding for how I feel right now."
Dad flinched. "I never wanted you to find out like this."
"You never wanted me to find out at all," I deadpanned. "So, am I yours?"
"Mine?"
"Your daughter," I bit out. "Or is your name on my birth certificate another cover-up for one of her affairs?"
"You're mine, Molly Sue," Dad confirmed in a passionate tone. "I promise."
"You're sure."
"One million percent."
"Okay." Shuddering in relief, I gingerly patted the small swell of my stomach. "I'm yours like this one is Daryl's."
"Does Daryl know?"
I shook my head.
"Are you planning on telling him?"
I shrugged.
"You have to tell him."
"I don’t have to do a damn thing," I choked out. "I'll figure this out in my own time, Dad. On my terms."
"Molly…"
"I mean it, Dad. Let it go."
"I'm not happy about this." His expression faltered, emotion shining bright in his eyes. "I wanted so much more for you."
"Yeah, well, maybe this is a good thing." I sighed, feeling bone weary. "At least this way, maybe I'll have someone to love who hasn't lied to my face all my life."
"Molly…"
A knock on the front door sounded and my dad sighed. "You know that's going to be him, right?"
"No, no, no." Panic seized me. "I don’t want to see him right now."
"Molly, I know what I've said in the past. But that young man out there would never intentionally hurt you, sweetheart –"
"I don’t want to see him right now, Dad!" Tears filled my eyes. "I feel way too emotional to form a coherent conversation right now, and I don’t want to say things that I can't take back."
"This is all my fault." My father shook his head sadly. "What do you want me to do?"
"I can't face him right now," I whimpered, sobbing into my sleeve. "Just make him go."
50 Daryl
I knew showing up on Molly's doorstep was a horrible fucking idea, given the eruptions in my kitchen earlier, but I couldn’t not go after her.
I'd tried to call her a million times on the way over, but every time I dialed, it went straight to voicemail. Any other person would take the hint, but I couldn’t.
Not when I was responsible for blowing her world to pieces.
It was a little after eleven that night when I pulled into her driveway and killed the engine.
My hands were shaking so bad, I was surprised I hadn't wrecked my truck on my way over here.
Greeted by the sight of her father's Bentley, I bit back the urge to roar and forced my legs up the steps of her front porch instead.
It felt strange knocking on the front door when I had always used the back door to come and go – or her bedroom window.
Shaking out my fists, I rapped my knuckles on the glass panel of the door and stepped back, shoving my hands into the front pocket of my hoodie while I waited.
For my world to end.
When the front door finally opened inwards, I wasn't surprised to find Nick Peterson staring back at me.
"I know what you're about to say," I quickly started. "And before you say it, just know that I am so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean for her to find out like that. I didn’t mean for her to find out at all. I didn’t – I wouldn’t do that to her. Not intentionally. You've gotta believe me, sir –"
"I don’t blame you, Daryl."
My mouth fell open. "You don’t?"
"No." Nick shook his head. "This is on me, son. I should have told my daughter the truth a long time ago. I thought I was doing what was best for her – protecting her. Shielding her from an ugly, cold side of life, but I was wrong. She was always going to find out the truth."
"I need to see her," I strangled out, feeling my heart thunder wildly against my chest. "Please." Begging wasn't something I ordinarily did, but I was begging him now. "Just let me talk to her – explain my side of things…"
"She doesn't want to talk right now, Daryl," he replied gently. "I'm sorry."
"To me," I croaked out, feeling like I was suffocating under the weight of my guilt. "You mean she doesn't want to talk to me."
"If it's any consolation, she doesn’t want to talk to me either," her father offered. "I just so happen to own the roof over her head, which makes it pretty impossible for her to avoid me."
"Can I at least come inside and try?" I asked, desperate. "Please?"
"I won't stop you from coming into my house," he replied sadly, "But it won't change anything, son. She's not ready –"
"Then can she just tell me that herself?"
"Daryl –"
"I'm not ready."
The moment I heard Molly's raspy voice, my gaze flicked straight to her tear-stained face as she hovered in the foyer behind her father.
"Molls." The pain I thought I had felt up until this moment paled in comparison to the way my heart spliced down the middle when she met my gaze.
She looked at me like I was a stranger.
And maybe to her, in this moment, I was.
My heart plummeted.
"Can we please talk?" I asked, keeping my eyes locked on her. "Please."
Sniffling, she wiped her cheeks with her sleeve and stepped on the porch.
"I'll leave you both to it," her father said before excusing himself back inside the house.
Pulling the door shut behind her, Molly folded her arms around her middle and looked over my shoulder as she spoke. "I'm real tired, Daryl, and I'm too worn out to argue. So, I'm gonna give you five minutes to say whatever it is that you came here to say and then I'm going to bed."
"I came to tell you that I'm sorry," I told her hoarsely. "So fucking sorry."
Nodding stiffly, she continued to stare off into the darkness, unwilling to look in my direction.
"All that stuff about your mom?" Jaw clenched, I pushed my hands through my hair. "About Wren and your mom?" I shook my head and groaned. She looked so lost, sounded so utterly broken, that it fucked with my head real bad. "I never wanted you to find out like that."
"So you knew about it all this time?" she sniffed, wiping her cheek with her shoulder. "The affair. Why our parents didn’t want us to hang out?"
"I knew what they were doing," I forced myself to whisper. "Wren and your mom – I caught them, but when I told my mom, she called me a liar. When I confronted Wren, he beat me down so bad that I couldn't walk straight for a week. I was too scared to tell your father in case he reacted the same as Wren. No one believed me, Molly, and knowing what they were doing behind my mom and your dad's backs made me feel so fucking dirty that I kept it to myself. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want your heart to ache the same way mine did. I wanted to protect my best friend from our parents' bullshit. I guess I fucked that up epically considering the situation we're in right now, but my only motivation for keeping my mouth shut was to protect you."
Flinching, she clenched her eyes shut, and whispered, "And Bobby…did you know about Bobby being Wren's?"
"You have to remember that I was only a kid when all this went down, Molls," I defended, throwing my hands up. "I didn’t understand any of what was happening, not in a sexual context at least. But, yeah, I heard my mom and Wren fighting at night about your mama's baby." I shrugged, helpless. "I guess that I put it together."
"And the fire?" Tears trickled down her cheeks and she looked straight at me. "You knew about how my mama tried to burn me alive?"
Her words were too much for me in that moment, too goddamn raw and real. "Fuck."
I physically flinched. "Fuck."
"Fuck," she cried out hoarsely. "Yeah, Daryl, fuck!"
"Molly –"
"So, it's true?"
"Molls –"
"Answer me, Daryl! Did my mother kill herself? Did she kill my brother? Did she try to kill me?"
"I don’t think –"
"Tell me the fucking truth, dammit!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, hands pulling roughly on her hair. "Answer the goddamn question!"
"Yes, okay, fucking yes! It's true." I shuddered violently. "It's true."
"I don’t understand," she wailed, lowering herself onto the floor. Crying hard, she wrapped her small arms around her legs and rocked. "I don’t know why she would do that to us…"
"I'm sorry." Drowning in her pain, I closed the space between us and sank down beside her. "I'm so sorry, baby."
"Why didn’t you tell me?"
"How could I do that to you?" I strangled out breathing coming hard and fast, pulling her into my arms. "You'd already lost so much. Your mother and brother were dead, Molly. Your whole life had fallen apart. I couldn't take your memories from you, too!"
"Tell me what happened that night," she demanded, delirious with grief, as she both pushed and pulled on my arm. "Please –" Sniffling, she gripped my forearm and held it to her chest. "Tell me everything you know."
51 Molly
Daryl's arms were wrapped tightly around my body, but unlike earlier, when all I needed was the feel of his skin on mine to steady me, I felt no comfort now. Not when he was dicing me apart with every hellish revelation that tore from his lips.
I wanted to run away with him. I needed him to put me in his truck and tell me everything was going to be okay. I wanted to be able to lean on him. And I couldn’t.
"It was the summer from hell. Rourke's dad had married wife number four, Wren and I were constantly fighting, and your mom, well, she had taken to bed shortly after your brother was born. She used to spend all of her time either crying or sleeping, and I used to spend all of my time trying to distract you from worrying. I had a feeling that her mood swings were related to what had gone down between her and Wren, but I was only ten. I didn’t really get it. Anyways, the night it all went down, I'd been brawling with Wren over something he said about you – shit, at the time, I couldn't even remember what it was he had said, but it was something bad enough to make me snap. I ended up with a busted lip and a ripped shirt for my troubles. I remember storming out of the house and you came running after me. We went to the beach – do you remember that?"
"Yes." Shivering, I nodded. "I remember."
"I wanted to sleep on the beach that night," he continued, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around my small frame. "I begged you to stay with me, but you said that your daddy was away on business and you couldn’t –"
"Leave Bobby on his own with my mom," I filled in, feeling the memories of that night bombard me. "Because Daddy wouldn’t be home…"
"And your mom might not get out of bed to check on him if he cried," Daryl added quietly.
"I asked you to stay at my house," I whispered, biting down hard on my lip. "Because you always used to sleep over when you had a fight with Wren."
"But that night, I told you that I couldn’t sleep knowing he was across the street from me," he filled in.
"So I went home," I breathed, heart hammering violently. "And I told you that I'd come back first thing in the morning with something for you to eat."
"And I stayed at the beach," he added, blowing out a frustrated breath. "Or at least that's what I intended to do."
"But?"
"But a couple of hours in, I got worried," he admitted, voice pained.
"Worried about what?"
"About you," Daryl confessed with a shiver. "Because I remembered what Wren had said to made me snap and fight him."
"What was it?"
"Wren had said that the world would be a better place if your entire family just upped and disappeared, and that he'd told your mom exactly that when she called him on the phone begging and pleading to see him earlier in the day," Daryl bit out, tensing. "It made me think, and when I started thinking, I started panicking. I'll never be able to explain the feeling in the pit of my stomach that night – the one that was screaming at me to go back." A deep shudder seemed to roll through us both simultaneously. "So, I did. I went back – hell, I ran back. I had this god-awful feeling in my gut that something terrible was happening. When I finally reached our street, I saw your mother, standing outside, watering the flowers in her pajamas, and sobbing inconsolably. I didn’t think much about it. She'd been acting all kinds of strange so watering her flowers in the middle of the night wasn’t even that abnormal of behavior for her. Until…"
"Until?"
"Until she started watering your windows and front door and I quickly realized that what I had mistaken for water was actually gasoline."
"Oh my god," I wailed, burying my face in his chest.
"I hollered at her to stop. I remember shouting 'what are you doing, Mrs. Peterson?' but the minute she heard me, she ran back inside the house and locked the door," Daryl continued to recall, voice cracking in parts, as he tried to piece that night of terror together. "A few minutes later, the flames started to rise. It went up so damn fast, Molls. I'd never seen fire spread like that before, and I haven't seen it happen since."
"I woke up to the sound of the smoke alarm going off and smoke filling my lungs," I choked out, trembling. "I couldn’t breathe and I had no idea what was happening."
"I tried to get in, but your mama had locked all of the doors," he choked out, as a lone tear trickled down his cheek. "I screamed for help, and banged on all of the neighbors' doors, told them to call 911, but they were all moving so fucking slow and the fire was spreading so goddamn fast that I couldn’t wait –" he sucked in a ragged breath, "so, I did the only thing I could in that moment; I ran around to the side of the house and bust your bedroom window out with a rock." Sniffling, he choked out a pained sob. "Fuck, I probably made it worse because the second I let the air inside, the flames in your room fucking tripled in size, but I couldn’t leave you in there. I couldn’t lose you."
"D…"
"Everything happened so fast after I got you out. I was pulled away when the paramedics started working on you. They couldn’t get to Bobby or your mom in time, and were shouting that you were going into shock and that you might not make the ride to the hospital. I fucking lost it after I heard that, but then another ambulance arrived to take me away –" he roughly cleared his throat before adding, "By the time I got treatment for my shoulder at the ER, you had already been helicoptered to a hospital with a more advanced burn unit in the city."
"And I never saw you again."
He shook his head sadly. "After you and your dad left town, it was all hushed up – courtesy of Wren and his contacts – and put down to some freak accident, but I never forgot what really happened that night." He looked me straight in the eyes and said, "I was so fucking traumatized after that night, I can't even begin to tell you the number of shrinks my mom pushed me to see, or name the countless number of pills I'd been prescribed." He exhaled brokenly. "I guess the point I'm trying to make here is that I never forgot you, Molly, not really. I just… I had to protect my mind and block you out. Make it stop. Make you stop haunting me. It was the only way to stop my sanity from slipping on me."
52 Daryl
After I finished, Molly remained silent for the longest time.
Aside from her quiet sobs and sniffles, she never spoke a word, and for a while, I started to worry that she never would.
Finally, she broke the silence with two words that I hadn't expected. "Thank you."
"You don’t have anything to thank me for," I replied, reluctantly releasing my hold on her when she moved to stand up.
"No, I r-really d-do," she sniffled, wiping her cheeks. "Thank you for sa-saving me t-that night –" she paused to suck in another sharp breath, "and th-thank you for
finally te-telling me the t-truth."
"But?" I pushed, feeling a pool of dread settle in my stomach as I watched her back away from me.
"I understand why you did it – why you helped cover this up and keep it all a secret from me," she strangled out, eyes puffy and bloodshot. "But that doesn’t mean that I can get over that fact that you did."
"Molly." My heart thudded dangerously fast. "I never meant to hurt you."
"I know. I believe you," she was quick to agree, sniffling. "If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be standing here right now, but I had a right to know the truth about my life. I expect that kind of deceit from my father and all of the other grown ups in my life, but not you." She shook her head sadly. "Not my best friend."
I shrugged helplessly, at a complete fucking loss. "What are you saying here?"
"I'm saying that I'm gonna need some time to work through this." Another sniffle. "Alone."
"Don’t tell me it's over," I begged, feeling my knees grow weak and rattle. "Please, Molls! I can give you time. All the time you want. Just… just don’t break up with me…"
"You should have told me," was all she replied, crying silently. "Before we slept together and definitely before I fell as deep as I have."
"I was scared," I admitted, feeling like the fire in my chest was about to burn me to the ground. "I thought you wouldn’t look twice at me if you knew that I'd kept the truth from you." I threw my hands up aimlessly. "I was scared of you looking at me pretty much the exact same way that you're looking at me now."
"You took that choice away from me," she whispered, moving for the door. "And now we'll never know."
"Wait, Molls, no – don’t leave it like this!" Closing the space between us, I grabbed her hand and pulled her back to my chest. "Don’t end this."
"I'm not," she hiccupped before a huge sob escaped her.
"You're not?"
"I don’t know, D. I don’t know, okay? I just need time," she cried out, twisting out of my hold. "I need time."
"How much time?" I choked out, watching helplessly, as she opened her door and stepped inside. "Molly!"
