Page 118 of Letters to Molly (Maysen Jar 2)

“I don’t know. The days got so hard. We stopped fighting for each other and fought for ourselves instead. In the end, I think it—us—got to be too much and we gave up. I’m sorry.”

I hated hearing those words from her mouth. It seemed like she’d said them so damn much. “Can you do something for me?”

“Sure.”

“Don’t apologize to me anymore.”

“Huh?”

I took the letter and crumpled it into a tight ball. “This letter is bullshit. Well, half of it. You didn’t quit me. I quit you. I haven’t said this enough, but I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry, Molly.”

She stared at me for a few seconds, then she closed her eyes. “I think we’ve apologized plenty. Maybe we could both stop.”

“Not quite yet.” I stepped closer and took both her hands in mine. “I’m sorry. For pushing you away after Jamie died. For putting Alcott above our marriage and using work as an excuse to hide from my feelings. For being such a fucking asshole to you after we got divorced. For all these letters. You didn’t deserve how I treated you.”

Molly rocked back on her heels, the shock of hearing my statement written all over her face.

Which meant this apology wasn’t just necessary, it was long overdue.

I’d blamed her for our divorce. I’d given her the cold shoulder for months in the hopes of making her pay for how hurt I’d been. I’d been in so much pain it had physically hurt me to look at her.

“It wasn’t fair for me to put it all on you,” I told her.

Tears welled in her eyes. “You had a good reason.”

“No, I didn’t.” I framed her face with my hands. “I’m sorry.”

A tear fell. “Thank you for saying that.”

The distance between us was only inches but I pulled her into my chest and wrapped her up tight. I breathed in the rosemary and mint scent of her hair as she wrapped her arms behind my back.

Our embrace didn’t last long. Much too soon, Molly pushed me away. “That’s the last letter, right?”

I nodded. “That’s it.”

“Phew.” She smiled, blinking her eyes dry. “I’m glad. I can’t take all this crying. I’m getting dehydrated.”

I chuckled. “You think we’ll ever figure out who was sending them?”

“Since we’ve interrogated every person we know, I’m thinking it’s a mystery for the ages.”

“We didn’t ask the kids.”

Molly blew out a long breath. “I don’t think it’s them.”

“Kali asked me earlier if we were ever going to get together again. It could have been her.”

“I don’t think so.” Molly shook her head. “You know your daughter, Finn. She shows everything she feels. Some of those letters were devastating to read. I don’t think she would have been able to read them and hide it from us.”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “You’re probably right. Okay . . . a mystery for the ages.”

“I’m actually glad I don’t know who.”

“You are?”

“I don’t want to know someone else’s motives for doing this to us. I’m just glad they did. We left too much unsaid. Now it’s all out there. Now we can finally breathe.”

I went to the couch and picked up my backpack, slinging it over my shoulder. “I agree.”