I hang up. Set my phone down. "She's fine. She's probably in the bath or something. Making dinner. She's fine." The war in my brain rages. She doesn't know what to do in a storm like this. I got her a fire extinguisher and a flashlight, but that's it. Should have gotten her some camping gear, lanterns, a stove--something.
A crack of thunder sounds only a split second behind the flash of lightning, and the impact of whatever it hit shudders through the entire house. The power flickers, goes out.
Pulse charging, I call her again. That huge tree in the front of her place is hanging over the front of the house, the branches fifteen, twenty feet long, heavy enough to split the house down the middle. But if the whole thing falls?
What if she's hurt?
Hi! It's Molly--
I hang up with a swear, heading for my keys.
You can't go over there after ignoring her like this,my brain says.
I'll just drive by,my heart answers.
Don't go pretending like you're a hero now, not after you've hurt her like this.
I need to know she's safe.
And if she's not?
My stomach pitches, bile charging up my throat at the flash of images of her injured or worse. And nothing else matters. In my panic, every reason to stay away disappears, inconsequential next to the fear of truly losing her.
There's only room for her.
I snatch my keys off the counter, stuffing my feet into boots and flying out into the driving rain, telling myself she's fine. Promise myself I'll stay away.
Knowing it's a lie.
CHAPTER 31
INSIDE OUT
MOLLY
Despite the storm raging outside, my house is warm and cozy, with Scout cuddled up with me on the couch and the sound of the rain humming beneath Taylor'sFolklore. There's a book in my hand, a steaming mug of tea on the end table, a purring cat in my lap, and I'm wrapped in the softest blanket on the planet.
I've never been more miserable in my whole, entire life.
I've spent the last six days trying to respect his boundaries, trusting that he's right. He knows this town, knows relationships. He knows better than I do, and I trust him. So if he thinks we should stay apart, that's what we'll do, even though I hate it. Even though it's killing me.
I'm still exhausted from seeing him last night. I came home and cried myself to sleep, then woke up feeling like I'd been hit by a truck.
Maybe I imagined the pain on his face, in the sound of his voice. Maybe he doesn't even miss me. Maybe I fucked all this up with my feelings and he was right all along. I don't know whatI'm doing, and to think I could kiss him and laugh with him and share my bed with him, let him touch me like that andnot have feelingswas so dumb. Like the dumbest thing I have ever done or will likely ever do.
No. He had feelings. I know he did.
He all but said so last weekend when he stayed the night for the first time just because he wanted to. He told me every time he stayed, it got harder to leave.
Does he still?
My heart breaks fresh.
I didn't realize that every day he stayed away would take another piece of me.
Being with Grey flipped my world upside down, and now that it's rolled over again? The pieces of me crashed to the ground, half broken and spilled and strewn all over the place. I'm not sure where any of it even goes anymore. Nothing makes sense. Not a single thing fits where it used to belong, like the pieces of me have grown too big for what used to be.
Tears constrict my throat as they slide down my cheeks, and I swipe them away, sniffling.
