Page 49 of Working for the Runaway Bride

“The only Chevelle I own.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “You wouldn’t.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“To help you.”

Hurt flashes across her face. “You think selling me your car will make me stay?”

“No.”

“Then what is this?”

“It’s yours.”

“I don’t want it.”

“You lost your job because I came to the school.”

“You didn’t make Carter hit you.”

“I told him about the kiss.”

“You told the truth.”

“At the worst possible time.”

“He would have found out eventually.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that my choices helped destroy your career.”

“My career isn’t destroyed.”

“You’re moving across the country because you can’t afford to stay.”

“I can get another job.”

“And you should have time to find one you love instead of taking whatever position pays you first.”

She stares at the envelope as though it offends her.

“That car meant everything to you,” she says.

“No.”

“You told me it taught you how to rebuild your life.”

“It did.”

“Then how could you sell it?”

“Because it isn’t everything.”

I set the envelope on the desk. “Molly, look at me.”

She does. Her green eyes are already filling with tears.