Chapter Twenty-One
Molly
* * *
“Oh, Gram. You have no idea how happy I am to see that.”
My mouth waters at the sight of the perfectly frosted, three layer chocolate cake on a glass pedestal in the center of the kitchen table. It’s the cake Gram has made for my birthday every year since I was a kid.
“A gloomy winter day calls for some chocolate cake,” Gram says, taking two floral-patterned dessert plates from a cabinet.
I know she didn’t make my favorite cake because of the bleak weather, but because of my breakup with Kit. It’s been five days and I still cry myself to sleep at night while curled around Mr. Darcy.
My swollen eyes give me away; no one has approached me at the office since Kit and I split. If they did, I’m sure I’d make them sorry they spoke to me. I’m sad and disappointed, but also incredibly bitter and angry.
It’s not Kit I’m mad at, though—it’s myself. I deserve every tear I’ve cried in the past five days. Even though I’d been burned badly by love already, I foolishly jumped off the cliff again.
And surprise—the landing was once again a bitch. How could I have been so stupid?
“How was work?” Gram asks.
“It was okay.”
“What did you write about?”
“I interviewed a veteran about a war memorial he’s raising money for.”
Gram’s face lights up. “How wonderful.”
“Hopefully the story will help him reach his fundraising goal.”
Gram cuts a large piece of cake, puts it on a plate and passes it to me.
“There’s chicken and noodles, too, if you want to eat dinner first,” she says.
“No, this is perfect.”
“I made sweet tea, too.”
“Gram, you’re the best.”
Mr. Darcy comes into the kitchen and looks up at me, silently asking for some cake.
“No chocolate for you, sweet boy,” I say as I shove a forkful into my mouth. “Sorry.”
“I saved you some chicken, Mr. Darcy,” Gram says. “Come on over here.”
She puts a plate on the floor and he dives in, making little snorting sounds of excitement.
“You’re so good to us, Gram,” I say. “Thank you.”
“I like taking care of you and Mr. Darcy. You’re my whole world.”
My heart swells with love for her. “You’ve always made my bad days feel better.”
“Was today better than yesterday?”
I shrug. “About the same.”
“You’ll be okay. It may take time for you to realize this was for the best.”
“You think so?”
Gram gives me a puzzled look. “Well, you said it was for the best, so it is. You know best when it comes to your heart.”
I sigh softly. “I hope so. But who knows? I miss him a lot.”
“Maybe fate will bring the two of you together again.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think things can ever go back to the way they were. We both said some awful things to each other.”
“Your grandpa and I had some of those fights, too, and we loved each other for almost fifty years.”
“Gram, you’re sweeter than I am. I said…some really mean things to Kit.”
“I once called your grandfather a cock-sucking bastard, and he forgave me.”
“Gram!” My chin drops with shock. “I can’t believe you’d ever say that to anyone.”
She smiles as she takes a sip from her mug of tea. “Oh, I was a pistol when I was younger, Moll. Your grandpa forgot our first wedding anniversary and when he got home from work the next day, I’d donated all his clothes to a charity for the homeless.”
I laugh, shocked by this side of my grandma I never knew existed.
“What did he do?”
She shrugs. “We couldn’t afford new clothes, so he went to a secondhand store and bought two pairs of pants and two shirts, and that’s all he had for a few months.” She laughs, her eyes sparkling. “One of the shirts was too small for him, and he kept busting a button off it.”
“Was he mad?”
“No, he got over it pretty quickly. And he never forgot our anniversary again.”
I finish off my slice of cake, wishing I could have known my gram when she was younger.
“Those were such good times,” she says wistfully. “Hard since we didn’t have much, but also filled with passion. There was a lot of love, but also plenty of arguing and anger and all those other things that make the world go ‘round.”
“I guess predictability makes my world go ‘round,” I say, an edge in my tone. “I thought I could have those other things, but…it’s hard. For me, anyway.”
Gram covers my hand with her soft, wrinkled one. “It’s hard for everyone else, too, Moll. No one has it all figured out. Anyone who says they do is a liar. All of us feel scared and self-conscious and worried at one time or another.”
“Was I unfair to Kit?” I ask, voicing the question that’s been plaguing me. “Was I expecting him to be perfect when it’s not possible?”
“I don’t know. Were you?”
I didn’t tell Gram the specifics of my breakup with Kit. We’re close, and I know she wouldn’t judge me, but I don’t think I could tell anyone about Kit’s insistence on having things his way sexually. It’s too intimate, and no one should know but the two of us.
“I tend to assume the worst,” I admit. “And overthink things.”
“You assume the worst because of your horrible marriage, and it will take time to heal from that.”
“Kit’s very different from Zach. He made me feel like I was just right exactly as I am. But then when we argued, I guess I found out what he really thinks.”
You have to analyze every little thing to death.
The sting of his words is still fresh. I didn’t pursue a relationship with Kit; he sought me out. And he knew I’m not like most women.
I cut another slice of cake and put in on my plate.
“I haven’t eaten since lunch,” I tell Gram, my tone miserable.
“You eat that whole cake if you want to.”
It’s after 8:00 p.m. I’m back to keeping my old hours—about twelve a day in the office followed by a couple hours with Gram and Mr. Darcy and some sleep before I wake up and do it all again the next day.
I’ve realized this week that I was trying to convince myself I loved my solitary life before I met Kit. I told myself women who got heart-eyed over texts from men were silly and naive. Then I became one of those women, and it felt good. Really good.
I’m halfway through my second piece of cake before I sigh softly and get up to pour a glass of milk.
“I wanted to believe there was someone out there who would get me,” I tell Gram. “Who would see me for everything I am instead of everything I’m not. I thought Kit did.”
“And based on one conversation, you’re so sure he doesn’t?” She lowers her brows in judgment.
“Gram, you think he’s the best man ever because he helped me look for Mr. Darcy. He told me before we broke up that I’m suspicious and I question everything.”
“Is that true?”
I sigh, exasperated. “I guess it’s true, yeah. But that’s just who I am.”
“It probably makes him feel like you don’t trust him.”
“How can I trust him? We just started dating. Trust takes time.”
“It does, but why assume the worst in the meantime?”
“Whose side are you on, anyway?” I grumble.
“Yours, Moll. I’m just worried you wrote Kit off quickly because it’s easier. It’s safer. You don’t have to wait to find out if he’ll break your heart if you just end things before he has a chance to.”
Her words sting because there’s truth in them. But I also know I’m not wrong for questioning Kit on why he wants to control everything in bed. I could have handled things better the other night, but he could have, too.
; “I don’t want to talk about him anymore,” I tell Gram wearily. “Let’s watch a show.”
“Okay.” She reaches for my plate. “Are you done with your cake?”
“No, I’m going to finish it.”
I’ll probably eat every last crumb and then have another piece. I’m wallowing, and chocolate cake makes everything just a little bit better.
“Let’s watch that Downton Abbey,” Gram says as we get comfortable on the couch. “It’s my favorite show. Well, besides Wheel of Fortune, of course.”
“Of course.”
I smile and snuggle against Gram, covering us both up with an afghan. She’s a lot like chocolate cake—whenever I’m down, she makes everything just a little better.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kit
* * *
“How’s Molly?” Jonah asks me as we run beside each other on treadmills in the team weight room.
“Wouldn’t know. She dumped my ass.”
He gives me a confused look. “You serious?”
I stare straight ahead, not in the mood. “Do I look like I’m joking, asshole?”
“Damn. I’m sorry, man. She looked like she was really into you that day at Luca’s.”
My silence is the only response Jonah’s getting. Molly told me after the party at Luca’s house that she really liked Rey, and I was already planning to ask Jonah if they wanted to double date sometime. No need to ask now.
It’s been eight days since that awful fucking conversation Molly and I had at my apartment. I haven’t smiled once since. Haven’t stopped thinking about it once, either. I talked to my sister about it, but it didn’t help because I didn’t want to be specific about Molly’s reason for breaking things off.
Vic bursts into the weight room, his eyes wide. “You guys aren’t gonna fucking believe what happened this morning.”
“You finally discovered your balls?” Knox calls out from the other side of the room.
Vic ignores him. “There was a big accident on the interstate outside the city, and a car caught on fire with a woman unconscious inside. Guess who ran over and pulled her out?”
He waits as we all look at him, enjoying the air of suspense he’s creating.
“Are you gonna tell us or not, dumbass?” Jonah says.
“Durand.”
We all stare at him in stunned silence.
“Our team owner, Durand?” Knox finally asks.
“Yeah. There were pictures posted by onlookers took and his suit jacket was burned from the car. It’s all over the news. He pulled her out of the car and revived her—gave her mouth-to-mouth.”
“Wow,” Jonah says. “That’s pretty wild. Good for him.”
“Badass, right?” Vic says.
He walks over to the treadmill next to mine and steps on.
“How’s Molly?” he asks, turning on his treadmill.
I push the button to crank down my speed and ride to the end of the treadmill belt, jumping off.
“He doesn’t want to talk about it,” Jonah says as I walk away.
I’m heading for the locker room when I see a TV crew beside the door, a reporter interviewing Anton. He’s got his Blaze T-shirt and hat on, which our PR people always ask us to wear for TV interviews. Anton’s a good team captain.
“No, I’m not surprised at all,” Anton says, a light shining right in his face. “Olivier Durand has always thought of all of us as people rather than just players. When someone’s wife is having a baby, he makes sure we have the opportunity to be there, even if we miss a game. He gave my brother Alexei a chance when he needed it, and he didn’t have to do that.”
“But to risk his life,” the reporter says, “to save a stranger from a burning car…is that something you would have imagined him doing?”
“Absolutely. He isn’t someone who stands by when someone needs help. I’ve seen how generous he is to those in need.”
“Anything else you want to add, Anton?” the reporter asks.
“Only that we’re proud he’s our team owner. And I’m glad to see you guys covering such a positive story. We need more of that in this world.”
I turn around and start walking away from Anton and the reporter. The last thing I need right now is to run into anyone else who wants to ask me questions. It’s been shitty having to come to the arena and travel with my team since Molly dumped me. All I want is to be alone.
Sara told me to beg for forgiveness, but I’m not sure it would even work. I was a total dick to Molly when we fought. And deep down, I know I can’t change—even for her.
I tried to change before, for my college girlfriend, and I regretted it. I was hoping that Molly would take me as I am. She wasn’t wrong about anything she said, and that’s why it made me so angry.
The problem is me.
Molly deserves nothing less than a man who will be everything she wants and deserves, and I wanted so damn badly for that to be me, but it’s not.
I’m finished with practice and lifting around lunchtime, and since we don’t have a game tonight, the rest of the day I’m free to do what I want. Problem is, I don’t want to do anything. Since Molly broke up with me, I’ve been going through the motions. Playing hockey, responding to people when they talk to me, eating and sleeping—but I’m just not feeling it.
Hope is supposed to be a good thing. But I was better off before I had it. I planned to be a bachelor for life. I wanted to spoil my nieces and nephews, travel the world after I retire from hockey, and stay close friends with my teammates.
Then Molly came along, bringing hope for the future that I never expected. It sounds cliché, but a switch got flipped—I understood why my married friends were happy to settle down. When you find the one, nothing else matters anymore.
I really thought she was the one for me, and that it was true what they say about things falling into place when it’s right.
Things fell apart instead, though. I want to tell Molly I’m sorry for the things I said in the heat of the moment, but for things to really work between us, I’d have to change in ways I don’t think I’m capable of.
With one last glance back at Anton and the camera crew, I head to the locker room. After a quick shower, I leave the arena and drive to my sister’s favorite boutique store to find her a birthday gift. The owner of the store always sets me up with something she’ll love.
Downtown traffic is crazy, and I have to park a couple blocks from the store. I shove my hands in the pockets of my coat as I walk, the chilly Chicago wind ruffling my hair.
A middle-aged woman and a little boy who looks around five are stopped on the sidewalk ahead of me, and she’s bending down to button his coat all the way up to his chin.
“Better?” she asks.
“Yeah!”
“I think we should go to that bakery you like and get a treat because you were so good while I was shopping,” she tells him, standing up and taking his hand. “How does that sound?”
“Yay!” The boy’s eyes shine with happiness. “Thanks, Mom. I want the giantest biggest cookie. Or cupcake!” He grins. “Oh! One of those cookies with frosting in between two cookies.”
“You can pick anything you want,” his Mom says as I walk closer to them. “Keep your hat on, Jack. It’s cold out here. And stay close to me; there are lots of people out here.”
“I will,” he promises.
I stop walking as they pass me, turning to watch them go. The mom is still holding her son’s hand, and he’s looking up at her like she’s the most amazing person in the whole world.
There’s a lump in my throat as I move closer to the building I’m in front of to get out of the flow of pedestrians. Something about seeing that mom with her son hits me hard.
There was a time I felt the same way about my mother as the little boy I just saw. It was so long ago, though.
I turn to face the building, trying to get ahold of myself. I fucking can’t, though. I’m overwhelmed with emotions. Sadness. Anger. Regret. So much regret.
>
My vision blurs as tears well in my eyes. I squeeze my eyes closed and a few spill over, leaving a trail down my cheek. It’s been a really long time since I cried, and now I’m doing it on Michigan Avenue as dozens of strangers file past.
“Fuck,” I mutter, wiping my sleeve over my eyes to dry them.
My shopping can wait. Sara’s birthday isn’t for a couple more weeks. Instead of going to the boutique, I turn around and walk back to my car, focused on breathing in and out so I can keep my cool.
It’s been so long. So damn long. Why are things boiling over for me today, all of a sudden? What’s different now?
Suddenly, it hits me with crystal clarity. Molly. Molly is what’s different now. I want to be with her, but I can’t treat her the way she deserves until I first treat myself the way I deserve.
Back in my car, I turn up the heat and rub my hands together, warming them. My heart pounds hard and fast as I take out my phone and pull up my sister’s phone number.
“Kit? Hey, what’s up?” my sister says.
“Hey Sara, I’m not sure if this is a good time, but can we meet up somewhere for coffee? I need to tell you something. Something I should’ve told you a long time ago.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Molly
* * *
The scent of freshly baked bread catches my attention as I walk past a bakery on my walk home from the El Train after work. I look over at the brightly lit shop, admiring the display of loaves of bread, scones and cookies in the window.
Normally, it would make my stomach growl. But after the amount of chocolate cake I ate last night, nothing but the bread looks good to me.
I keep walking, though, because I know Gram will have dinner waiting for me.
Today was a decent day. Not good, but I was able to focus on the story I wrote without stopping to cry about Kit. I suppose that’s progress.
The story was about the resignation of Alderman Ted Lamont. He says he’s relocating to Phoenix for work, but it’s more likely his company booted him out of Chicago after what he did.
It doesn’t really matter, though. He’s leaving, and I’m not sorry. I wasn’t truly worried for my safety, but it’s still nice to know he’s moving on.
Kit: A Chicago Blaze Hockey Romance Page 13
