Molly
Three months after the accident

I LOOKED IN THE MIRROR AND there were dark circles under my eyes. My hair hadn’t been washed in almost five days and it looked like a bird had been nesting in it. My black eye had long been gone, and my cast had been cut off. I’d regained full use of my arm, but there was parts of me that were still so tattered that no doctor could see it, test for it, or feel for it. It wasn’t like a lump hidden under my skin, or a rash that itched. My heart was shattered.

All of my previous relationships had been ones that had ebbs and flows. And when they didn’t seem to be going anywhere, they were mutually ended. While I felt sad about something not working out, I knew it wasn’t meant to be. That kind of sadness didn’t run this deep. It never left me in a zombie like state that made me not want to function. I felt like someone had died. I had no idea if it hurt even worse that the person I wanted to see more than anything was not dead, he was alive and well and living fifty yards away.

A few drunken nights here and there, Sandra had to talk to me out of going over to Blake’s house and giving him a piece of my mind. She said it would make me feel worse and only pathetic women did that. To leave it to the movies and Nicolas Sparks books. Life wasn’t a sappy love song and forgiveness was passed out like Valentine’s Day cards you gave to everyone as kids. She said he had to earn my forgiveness.

When my cast came off, I was more than ready to get back to work and try to form some sort of semblance of my old normal. I’d noticed my poor stories had taken a turn down a darker path and my characters were sadder. I wasn’t one to write dark romance, but it seemed like the perfect time to do it. I had to write what I felt.

It was my therapy.

I’d started a whole new book. One I had no clue if the publishers would appreciate it or want it, but it was all I could do to keep myself together. I was coping. Writing was cathartic for me and dealing with the loss of my relationship and an important person to me was all I had. Poor Sandra had wanted to fly back out to offer me some sort of comfort. She knew I was distraught, but she wasn’t really the comforting type. I wasn’t in the mood to hear her telling me there were plenty of other men out there who could make me feel good. And that wine was always the answer.

Blake was who I wanted to make me feel good.

I frowned. Reaching up, I touched the corners of my eyes and lifted them. I looked tired. I shouldn’t look tired when I’d been getting an abundance of sleep. “Seriously, Molly… cucumbers.” I scolded myself out loud. Maybe I needed to book myself a full day at the spa.

For now fresh air was in the cards. A brand-new café had opened on one of the piers and there was a patio set up with chairs and tables. Sitting outside with my laptop and the sea air could do me some good. I wasn’t exceptionally hungry, but I needed to eat. I headed out. I made a concerted effort not to look across the street. After the hospital, I used to watch Blake’s house. Waiting for little glimpses here and there I could catch of him. Almost like my heart needed to see him to fill a random hole. After hiring a company to come in and finish the rest of the work in my house, I’d seen him outside. He looked exactly the same, and while that relieved me to see he was in one piece, he didn’t seem at all happy to see me. He’d watched me from the front of his walkway as I shook hands with his competition, and he glared at me.

I’d hoped like hell he understood why I’d asked someone else to do it instead of him. The house had sat in the same state we’d left it in for too many weeks, and I couldn’t look at it any longer. Frankland had come in and been efficient and quick. They did exactly what I’d asked and did it in a timely manner. My house was finished, and I wasn’t in the least bit happy. I even started to consider contacting Melonie to possibly put the house back on the market. But I wasn’t decided just yet.

Feeling grateful for the sunny day and warmth, when I got to the café, I asked the hostess if she could seat me outside. She smiled and led me to a black iron table that looked out at the water and the next pier over. I set my laptop down and opened the menu. A cucumber and tuna sandwich with lemonade sounded good.

I placed my order with the waitress and took a moment to breathe in the salty air. The sun felt incredible and my poor pale skin was soaking in the rays. I was wearing a pair of cut off shorts, flip-flops, and a fitted T-shirt that said, ‘Coffee over Cardio.’ People smiled at me when they read it.

There was a commotion as a small group of men walked out near where I was sitting but a few tables over. They were slightly loud, but male voices tended to be a bit more boisterous than females. Of course today would be the day I forgot my headphones. Oh, well, I’d have to drown them out with the sound of my own chewing and the seagulls calling at me to toss them a crumb.

Suddenly one of those male voices spoke a little louder than the others, and I immediately recognized it. My heart dropped into my stomach. I didn’t want to look. I fought the need to with every ounce I had. I hadn’t seen him in the crowd when I’d glanced over at them. I had no reason to assume Blake was with them since they were all dressed in business casual clothing. Blake wasn’t exactly the blazer wearing, polo sporting type. I needed to get out of here.

Slowly I stood and gathered my things. I tried not to draw any attention to myself and kept my back to the table of men. I prayed like hell Blake too had his back to me. I scolded myself for leaving my hair down, as it was blowing in the wind and a dead giveaway that it was me. I was just at the entrance to the café when I heard him.

“Molly?”

I froze. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do here. Did I turn around and face him? Having a confrontation on a patio in public wasn’t my idea of fun nor appropriate. Shoving the door open, I went inside.

I saw my waitress near the register. “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience, but I need my food in a to-go container, please. I need it rushed also.”

I kept glancing at the door leading outside. There was no sign of Blake. He must’ve decided to leave me alone. I was handing the waitress my card when Blake’s voice sounded behind me. Nope… not here. I moved to the hallway with the bathrooms.

“Molly, goddamn it, would you stop?”

I looked over my shoulder as I started to go inside the women’s restroom. It was a single room with a lock on the door, and I was grateful for the privacy. Before the door shut all the way, a large hand pushed it open and Blake came barging in like a human mountain.

I exhaled and shut my eyes. “Go away, Blake.”

“No, not till we talk.”

I took a step back as he shut and locked the door behind him. “I’m pretty sure everything you needed to say has already been said.”

His presence took up a large part of the small area. “There are a few more things that need to be said.”

“No, there aren’t. You let loose just about every emotion on me that you could in the hospital. I think we’re safe to say the words are running on empty.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.”

I crossed my arms over my chest as if to protect my heart. “No, no I don’t think so. I’ve been in the same place every single day, Blake. Where have you been?”

He took a step forward. “Giving you your space.”

I looked around the bathroom. “My space? You think I needed space? You got overwhelmed by your dad being in that hospital room and me knowing something personal about you and threw me out. You never bothered to call. You didn’t come knocking on my door to check on me. You simply left. You stopped existing, Blake.”

He dropped his head. I could see his features gave away the warring thoughts he was having. “Okay, maybe that’s how it went down. And I’m sorry for not checking on you. It was wrong. Very wrong.”

“Blake, it hurt worse than my broken arm and bruised eye. Knowing you were so close to me, yet so far away.”

“Why didn’t you come to me?”

I gaped at him. “Are you kidding me? Why would I go knocking on your door like the pleasant little neighbor that I am? Did you want me to bring a plate of cookies while I was at it? You fucking hurt me, Blake.”

He took a few more steps toward me and I backed into a wall. I hated that we were having this conversation at all, let alone in a public bathroom. He was so close to me. I could smell that delicious soap on his skin. His deep brown eyes were full of emotion. His muscles bulged beneath his thin dress shirt. He was exceptionally handsome looking like he was. He towered over me and I wanted to collapse in his arms.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I know I messed this up, Molly.” He paused and shook his head. “I need you to hear me out. Half of my life I’ve spent dealing with the shit end of the stick. Aside from my sister who just doesn’t even acknowledge my mom being gone. The very people who shaped me as a boy were the ones who left me to fend for myself. I’ve been clawing my way to the surface ever since. Until you, I hadn’t had a single person show compassion like you. You are a breath of fresh air.”

“Then why treat me like you have? You don’t get off that easy, Blake.”

“I know. What I’m trying to say is, you’ve got to give me some credit. I’m doing the best I can. I know my best hasn’t been good enough for you, but I’d like the chance to show you I can try harder.”

I blinked rapidly. “What? What do you mean ‘try harder’?”

He moved to stand only inches from me. When I saw his hand come up out of the corner of my eye, I knew I’d lose. If he touched me, any fight I had left in me would be gone. I’d melt into him and I’d open my bleeding heart to possibly be stabbed by him again.

He bent at the waist and put his forehead on mine. I shut my eyes and a single tear fell down my cheek. “Shhh, don’t cry. I’m sorry. Shhh…” he cooed. His fingers tried to dry my cheeks. “I need you in my life, Molly.”

I sniffled and stepped around him. “I’m sorry, Blake. You don’t get off that easily. Your family may have put you through hell, but I’m not them. I’ve never been them. And yet, you treated me like I was that day. You knew my intentions were good. Am I supposed to just forgive you?”

His brows came together. “No, I suppose not.”

God I needed air. He was crowding me. As much as I wanted to fall completely into his arms and take every word he says as gold, Blake needed to prove to me he wasn’t all talk. Pushing this issue aside or sweeping it under the rug wasn’t the answer. I stepped to the side to allow a little space between us.

“Go back to your meeting. I’m sure the waitress is looking for me.”

“Molly, we need to talk more.”

I nodded. “Okay, but not right now.”

“At least tell me you believe me when I say I’m sorry.” He sounded so defeated.

I pathetically attempted to crack a smile. “I believe you, but it’s hard to have a serious conversation standing next to a toilet.”

I heard a small chuckle come from his chest and it warmed me. He went to the door and placed his hand on the knob. “Can I stop by later?”

I shrugged. “When have you ever asked if you could come over?”

The russet color of his eyes seemed to soften. “You and that smart mouth.”

“Yeah.”

He walked out, and the same cold and empty feeling washed over me. This wasn’t fixed. Not by a long shot. Did he think a few kisses and an apology would sooth my wounds? Some may not think this all was a huge deal. That maybe it was a misunderstanding. But misunderstandings don’t drag on for as long as this had. I needed more than an ‘I’m sorry.’ I needed to know he really meant what he was saying. How or if he truly was going to do that, I didn’t know. But the ball was in his court.