by Street, K.
Guilt slammed into me at how I’d left. “That’s great. I’m glad Easton has help. Thank you, Helen.”
“You’re welcome. You take care, Molly.”
After we said good-bye, I disconnected the call.
* * *
I parked along the curb in front of Easton’s sister’s house.
I hadn’t seen Saylor since her husband, Colin’s funeral. After he died, Easton would go visit her, and I’d make excuses not to tag along. I couldn’t handle it. I realized how selfish it made me sound, but it didn’t make it any less true.
The way Easton and his parents rallied around his sister only solidified how much of an outsider I was. I hadn’t known how to exist in their world or how to be part of a family, constantly feeling inadequate and unworthy. Their closeness was so foreign to me. People weren’t born with knowing how to hate, but they weren’t born with knowing how to love either. We learned what we lived.
My background and Easton’s couldn’t have been more different. His childhood had been filled with happy memories, holidays, and a huge extended family. He grew up in a home where love was abundant. The only person who had ever really loved me was Gran. Then, she died and took all of her love right along with her. My own mother gave me away. Whatever she had felt toward me, it certainly wasn’t love.
I didn’t know the first thing about being a mom, but something Paige had said to me weeks ago stuck with me.
“… at least you know what not to do.”
It was true. I was my mother’s daughter, but she was everything I didn’t want to be.
Choking back the emotions that suddenly overwhelmed me, I lowered my hand to my stomach, lifted my oversize hoodie, and rubbed absently, feeling the tiniest hint of a bump. “We’ve got this,” I whispered.
As if in response, the strangest feeling rolled through my belly, like tiny bubbles breaking the surface, and I couldn’t help but smile.
I’d been sitting in front of Saylor’s house for a few minutes. By now, her neighbors were probably getting that creepy-stalker vibe, so I got out of the car and made my way to the porch.
The scent of meat cooking on the grill permeated the air, and I sent up a silent prayer that I wouldn’t need to hurl into the bushes.
Lifting my hand, I knocked on the door. The hem of my hoodie hid the button of my unfastened jeans and camouflaged the few pounds I had gained.
Seconds later, Saylor opened the door.
“Hey, Saylor. Is East here?” I asked almost apologetically.
Eyes hard and jaw set, she took me in.
I braced myself for a snarky comment or for her to tell me I wasn’t welcome and needed to leave. I wouldn’t blame her.
Instead, her demeanor softened, and to my surprise, she didn’t threaten to kick my ass.
“Um … yeah. Just one sec. I’ll go get him.” She pushed the door nearly closed and left me alone to wait for the storm I knew was coming.
Minutes ticked by as I waited for Easton. I stood with my back to the door, staring out over the well-manicured yard. The house was quaint. It had excellent curb appeal. It was the kind of home where laughter lived and the best kind of memories were made.
Heavy footfalls sounded behind me.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Easton asked, his tone harder than granite.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I was hoping I could—”
“No!” he bit out.
The venom in his voice had me taking a step back.
“What part of I never want to see you again didn’t you understand? You need to leave, and don’t fucking come back.” He turned around, went back inside, and slammed the door in my face.
I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, dumbfounded, held captive by shock. I’d thought I would come to Maplewood Falls, tell him the news, and then … I would go back to Atlanta. He could be involved as much or as little as he wanted to. Not once in the scenarios I’d conjured up did I think Easton would slam the door in my face without giving me a chance to speak.
I thought of my options, knowing it wasn’t the time or the place to make a scene. I mean, I couldn’t very well open the door, join them for dinner, blurt out that I was pregnant, and then ask for someone to pass the turnips.
Defeated and exhausted, I walked back to my car and drove to the Maplewood Inn. Tomorrow was a new day, and after I ate breakfast, I would try one more time to tell Easton about the baby.
Six
Easton
Saylor stood in her kitchen with her arms crossed as I walked inside and headed to the fridge to grab a beer.
“That was quick. What did she want?” my sister prodded.
I grabbed the bottle opener off the counter and popped the cap. “I have no fucking clue.”
Saylor lifted her brow. “Did you give her a chance to tell you?”
“No. I’m not interested in hearing a damn thing she has to say.”
“Maybe you should hear her out.”
I looked at her in surprise. “Since when are you Team Molly?”
She shrugged. “I’m not. She just looked ... lost.”
“That’s not my problem.”
“East, what happened between you two?”
I took a long pull of my beer, not wanting to get into it. “It doesn’t matter.”
“If you want to talk, I’m here.”
“I know, kid.” All the shit that had gone down between me and Molly was the last thing I wanted to talk about. “Come on; let’s get back out there.”
Saylor grabbed the potato salad from the fridge and the serving spoon off the counter, and then we went back outside to rejoin our family and friends for the Memorial Day barbeque.
I filled a plate and made my way back over to Layken. Her long blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, and gorgeous smile would have any man with a pulse and a heart doing a double take. Unfortunately, I only had one of the two.
Layken owned Sifted Bliss Bakery, and she and my sister had become fast friends. Saylor desperately tried to play matchmaker, but since I had sworn off relationships for the foreseeable future, it wasn’t going to happen.
“Save room for dessert,” Layken joked as she took in my full plate.
I appreciated that she didn’t ask about where I’d disappeared to. “Oh, I will,” I assured her. “Don’t think I missed that blue box on the counter.” I picked up the hot dog from my plate. “You should go get something to eat.”
“I will in a second. I wanted to ask you something.” Her nervous gaze dropped to the ground.
I chewed and swallowed before speaking, “What’s up?”
“Um … would you maybe want to get coffee or something sometime?” When I didn’t answer her right away, she continued, “It’s okay. Please forget I asked.”
“You’re beautiful. Trust me, it’s not you.”
She barked out a laugh. “You seriously did not just use the it’s not you; it’s me excuse.”
“Truth?”
“Yeah.”
“My last relationship ended badly, and I’m not looking for another one.”
“I’m not sure coffee equates to a relationship.” Her lips tipped at the corners. “Unless we’re talking about me and coffee. That changes things because me and the brew are definitely in a relationship.”
“Is that right?”
“Absolutely. It’s pretty serious, too.”
I grinned at her despite my current mood. “You’re funny.”
She laughed a light, airy sound. “I crack myself up daily. Listen, if you change your mind about the coffee, let me know.”
“I will.” I popped the last half of the hot dog in my mouth.
“I’m going to go grab some food,” she said, walking away.
I watched her go. Layken was pretty, kind, and funny, but I preferred my extracurricular activities sans strings, and she had strings written all over her.
“Uncle East. Uncle East.” My nephew, Knox, ran up to me.
“What’s up, little dude?”
<
br /> “Wanna play with me?”
“That depends. Did you eat?”
“Yep.”
“Come on; let’s go check with your mom.”
“Ahh.”
“You don’t want me to get in trouble, do you?”
“No.”
I tossed my plate and we walked over to where my parents were standing along with Layken, Saylor, and my best friend, Jase, who was dating my sister. My brother-in-law, Colin, had passed suddenly nearly a year and a half ago, leaving Saylor a young widow and my nephew without a father. She and Knox relocated from Charlotte and lived with me until they recently moved into their own place.
“Mommy, tell Uncle East he can play with me.”
My sister’s gaze went from Knox to me. “Did you finish your lunch?”
“He ate a hot dog and some watermelon,” our mom, Caroline, chimed in.
“All right, you go play for a few minutes, and when your uncle is done hanging with the grownups, I’m sure he’ll come play with you.”
“Okay.” He set his eyes on our cousin Lucy who was talking to our gram. He made a beeline in their direction, yelling Lucy’s name.
Our mom laughed. “If only I could bottle that kid’s energy and sell it, I’d make a mint.”
Mom and Dad went back to their conversation while Layken and Saylor went back to theirs.
Jase left Saylor’s side and stood next to me. “You good, man?” he quietly asked.
“I’m good.”
“Saylor said Molly stopped by. Want to talk about it?”
“Nope.”
He nodded. “Fair enough.”
Jase and I had been best friends since we were kids. He knew better than to push.
Every time I thought about Molly, about how easily she’d said she didn’t love me, how she didn’t want to be with me, my chest felt on the verge of cracking.
“I’m going to grab another beer,” I said to Jase. “Do you want one?”
“Nah. Thanks. You sure you’re good?”
“Yep.” I pointed my empty bottle at him. “You know what they say. Nothing gets you over a woman faster than getting another one underneath you.”
Mom gasped. “Easton James Chadwick! I did not raise you to talk like that.”
“Oh. You got in trouble,” Saylor teased.
“That’s enough from the peanut gallery,” I told my sister before directing my attention to our mother. “Sorry, Mom. Didn’t realize you could hear me.”
“Whether or not I can hear you isn’t the point.” She put her hand on her hip.
I tossed my empty bottle, closed the few steps between us and wrapped her in a bear hug. “You love me.”
“Lord knows why.” She laughed.
I kissed the top of her head before letting her go.
“Anyone else want a beer?” I offered.
“I’ll take one, son,” Dad spoke up. “Come on, Jase; let’s go set up the cornhole. East, go round up Lucy and Grandma.”
Saylor pointed a finger at me. “Don’t get any ideas, bro. Guys against girls, and we get Grandma.”
Gram might be getting up there in years, but she had one hell of an arm.
“We’ll see.” I laughed and set off toward the cooler.
Every time my thoughts drifted to Molly, I pushed them away. I didn’t want to think about her or how, when I left here, I would be going home to an empty house and an empty bed.
* * *
The shrill sound of the doorbell ringing jolted me from sleep. My head pounded, and last night came back in a blur.
After the barbeque at Saylor’s, Jase and I had gone out for a drink. It did nothing to erase Molly’s image from my brain, so when I had gotten home, I’d had a few more. This morning, I was paying the price.
I threw back the covers and put my feet on the floor. Still wearing the gray sweatpants I had worn to bed last night, I didn’t bother with a shirt as I made my way to the door and pulled it open to find Molly standing on the porch.
Her hair was in one of those messy knots on top of her head, and she had dark circles under her eyes. She looked like hell, and I almost asked her if she was okay until I remembered that she wasn’t my concern.
Not anymore.
“You stalking me now?”
“I just want to talk.”
“Talk? You never wanted to talk before, and now, that’s all you want to do.”
“East—”
Fuck this.
“I came home from a business trip to a note on the kitchen counter and your resignation on my desk at the office. There was no talking. You were just gone. You vanished into thin air like a fucking apparition.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I asked, “What was it you wrote in that note you left?” I raised a brow. “Ah, yes. You said that you couldn’t do this”—I gestured between us—“anymore.”
“I know, and I’m sorry.” Her eyes shone with unshed tears.
“What exactly are you sorry for? The way you ended things? Or that night in Atlanta when you let me fuck you against the door?” I scrubbed a hand over my beard.
Fire flashed in her eyes. “Were you always such an asshole?”
“No. Actually, I wasn’t.” I gave her a smug grin. “You get all the credit for that, sweetheart.”
“I just came here to tell—”
I held up a hand, cutting her off. “Save it. Whatever the hell you came here to say, I don’t want to hear it.”
“I’m—”
I shut the door between us cutting off her words. I needed the thick wood to act as a barrier between my heart and the woman who still owned it. The last thing I wanted to listen to was another apology.
When I had come home and found Molly’s note on the counter last summer, it’d nearly destroyed me. I waited for her to come to her senses. I practically fucking begged her to let me fix it even if I had no idea what the hell it was. Every phone call, email, and text message went unanswered, except for one.
Molly: If you love me, you’ll let me go.
I loved her, so I stopped reaching out. When my phone rang late one night last fall, for a split second, I thought it was Molly. Instead, it was my sister’s voice on the other end of the line, asking if she and Knox could move in with me. At the time, my brother-in-law, Colin, had been gone for almost ten months. Saylor and I were both grieving. The difference was, Colin died.
Molly left me by choice.
After the night we shared months ago, I thought she had finally come around.
Every painful word she said to me that February morning in her Atlanta hotel room ricocheted in my skull.
“Last night shouldn’t have happened. It was a mistake.”
“I don’t want you. I don’t love you.”
Just like that, she ruined me all over again.
I buried myself in work. Spent time with my nephew and helped Saylor and Jase finish remodeling the house my sister now lived in. I wasn’t self-destructive enough to drown myself in a bottle. Instead, I used other women as a distraction. Because I wasn’t a total asshole, I was always up-front about what I wanted. They got dinner and a show with a special appearance, starring my dick. Nothing more. And I got to be numb for a few hours while I strived in vain to fill up all the empty space Molly had left in my life.
She had destroyed me twice. I’d be damned if I ever gave her the power to do it again.
Seven
Molly
The breakfast I had eaten earlier threatened to make a reappearance.
“I’m—”
The door closed and the lock clicked into place before I could finish the sentence.
I had tried to do the right thing.
Not once.
But twice.
Anger and shame warred inside me.
Screw him.
You already did that, I reminded myself.
I glanced at Easton’s front door, and for a split second, I considered pounding it down. I wanted to scream at him to stop acting like a child, especially sin
ce he was going to have one in a matter of months. But I didn’t.
Because fuck him.
I got back in my car, pulled out my phone, and sent a text to Paige to let her know I was headed home. Then, I drove away.
Easton wasn’t the only one who got to be pissed. He had literally slammed the door in my face twice, and the sting of being rejected cut me to the bone. I still had every intention of telling him about the baby, and eventually, I would, but trying to talk to him right now wouldn’t accomplish anything.
Looking back, I realized the way I’d ended things with Easton was wrong on so many levels. Our relationship had gone from zero to sixty in what felt like nanoseconds. Everything with us happened so fast. When his brother-in-law, Colin, died … it was the beginning of the end.
At the funeral, I watched Saylor fall apart. Witnessing her devastation was a soul-crushing reminder that one way or another, everybody left. Panic was a living, breathing monster residing just below the surface of my skin. The innate need for self-preservation consumed me. For months, I tried like hell to ignore it until I couldn’t.
I found an engagement ring in Easton’s underwear drawer while he was away on a business trip. My apartment had flooded, so I had been staying with Easton for a few days. Seeing that ring sent me into a tailspin, hurling all the reasons we weren’t right for each other to the forefront of my mind. We’d barely known each other for a year at the time.
Easton thought he wanted to marry me, but he didn’t know me. Not the real me. Not the ugly truth about my childhood or just how damaged I was. He didn’t know about the demons I had never been able to slay. He only knew the handspun fairy tale I’d practically spoon-fed him. A relationship built on a foundation of deceit would crumble. I knew I would never be able to give him all of me, so I ran like I was on fire.
Then, I saw him that night in the elevator, and my ability to be rational didn’t exist. The way the air crackled. How it hummed with energy. When it was just the two of us and the flames of desire burned white-hot, all I could think about was how intensely I ached for his touch. How much I missed him. How I needed him inside me, never thinking beyond that. I’d never thought that I would be here.
