Page 47 of Working for the Runaway Bride

“I don’t have a reason to stay.”

The quiet sadness in her voice is worse than anger.

“You have friends.”

“Jessica can visit.”

“You have your house.”

“I can’t afford it without a job.”

“I’ll help you.”

“I don’t want your money.”

“Then let me speak to the school board.”

“The principal filed a report. Even if I fought the dismissal, I don’t know if I could stand in that classroom again after everyone saw what happened.”

“They’ll forget.”

“I won’t.”

I close my eyes. This is my fault. If I had stayed away, she would still have her job. Her class. The children she loves.

“I can fix this,” I say.

“No, you can’t.”

Her words in the parking lot. They hurt more the second time.

“I need a fresh start,” she continues. “My parents said I can stay as long as I need. There’s a school district near them hiring substitutes.”

“Molly, don’t go.”

The plea leaves me without pride. The line goes silent.

“I have to,” she says.

“No.”

“Grayson.”

“Stay one more day.”

“Why?”

Because I can’t imagine waking up in a world where you live a thousand miles away. Because I love you. The truth rises inside me with such force that it destroys every excuse I’ve built. I love Molly. I love her laugh. I love the patience she gives to every child in her classroom. I love her soft heart and her stubbornness and the way she looked at the Chevelle as though the story of my life mattered.

I love her enough that the thought of losing her feels worse than every prison door that ever closed behind me. We’re meant to be together. The realization should frighten me. Instead, it makes everything clear.

“I need to see you,” I say.

“That’s not a good idea.”

“Give me one day.”

“For what?”