His grip tightens. Mom's voice comes from behind us, shaky but firm.
"Rob. Let her go."
He doesn't move, his eyes wild, locked on mine.
"Rob." Louder now, steadier, commanding. "Let go of our daughter."
Something flickers across his face. His hand falls away.
I don't kiss him goodbye. I don't say I love you.
I open the door and walk out into the daylight.
And I don't look back.
CHAPTER 53
WANTS AND NEEDS
GREY
My palms are damp, pulse thundering as I wait the eternal seconds for Molly's parents to answer the door.
I've spent the last three hours composing a speech in my head that has just left my brain with zero trace. Molly's in there, and I'm so desperate to see her, I feel sick. But I'm not here for her.
I'm sick about that part too.
The door opens with a whoosh of air, and Cate stands on the other side looking frayed. Her nose is red, eyes puffy from crying. When she sees me, something complicated crosses her face--surprise, exhaustion, maybe even relief.
"She's not here," Cate says quietly. "She left a few hours ago."
Shock and disappointment spin through me. "She left? How?"
"Rented a car." She glances over her shoulder, then back at me. Her voice drops. "We had a fight. A bad one."
"Is she okay?"
"I don't know." Her chin wobbles. "I don't know anything anymore."
"I came to talk to you," I say. "Both of you, if you'll hear me out. But even if it's just you…. Please."
She hesitates, glancing over her shoulder again. "He's resting. The doctor said--"
"I'm not here to fight. I just need you to hear me out. Once. That's all I'm asking."
Something shifts in her face. She steps back, opens the door wider. "Please, be quiet. If he wakes up--"
I nod. "I understand."
It's a quaint house, cozy and warm, dotted with family pictures, smelling like home. I pause at one while Cate closes the door. Molly's only three or four, with that irrepressible smile, same wild mane of hair. But the sparkle in her eyes strikes me breathless. I would know them anywhere.
Cate leads me to the kitchen, gestures to a chair at the table, sitting across from me, her hands wrapped around a cold cup of coffee. Her eyes cut to the hallway behind me.
"We don't have long," she says quietly.
"Then I'll talk fast."
"I know what you think of me. I know I'm not the man you'd choose for her. So I appreciate you hearing me out." I clasp my hands, twist my entwined fingers, squeezing tight. "First, I have to apologize. The fight…" A hard swallow doesn't do much good. "I lost control, snapped when he talked about Molly that way. That's not to justify it, but…I don't give a damn what they say about me. But I'll defend her, always, with my last breath. The fallout, though…" I shake my head, twisting my fingers back and forth a little as I speak, "The stress of it all put your husband--her father--in the hospital. Because of me, because of what I did, he had a heart attack. I'll never forgive myself for that, so I won't ask for your forgiveness. But I'm sorry."
