Page 51 of Letters to Molly (Maysen Jar 2)

Now, thirteen years later, it was all coming back again.

The wedding lost some of its shine because of that argument. The week leading up to the ceremony, I was in a constant state of alert, waiting for Molly to change her mind.

I took over as much as I could to help reduce her stress, not just for Molly’s sake but to keep Deb at bay. I became the liaison for the florist, caterer and photographer, making sure everyone knew when and where to show up. I packed up Molly’s apartment and moved everything into mine so she could concentrate on the wedding and her classes. And I cleared my schedule, taking off more days from work than I’d planned so I was completely available to help if she needed it.

The day of the wedding, I stood at the altar in a panic that she’d changed her mind. When she appeared at the end of the aisle, I nearly cried. She was beautiful, my Molly. Full of joy and confidence. I would never forget how she looked that day in her white gown.

The strapless top was adorned with lace and a belt wrapped around her waist. It separated the lace from the billowing tulle skirt, one that had barely fit into the cab of my truck. We’d laughed about it, after we’d shared our vows and kissed. After we ran through a shower of birdseed to my truck—not a limo, because she hadn’t wanted to share those first few moments after the ceremony with a driver.

It took us ten minutes to get her dress into the truck. The skirt filled up every available inch of room. We laughed the entire drive from the church to the hotel where we had the reception.

That laughter, it had erased the stress of the wedding. With Molly’s ring on my finger, it was easy to forget the fight from the week before. The bad had simply been overshadowed by the good.

“We never talked about it,” I said. “About that fight. We didn’t really work it out, did we? We just went forward but never actually fixed the problem.”

“You mean the problem of my mother?”

I nodded. “I wrote that letter because I had to get those feelings out. I’d been holding them in for so long. I know it was harsh but that was how I felt.”

Molly walked to the desk and slumped down on the edge. Then she toyed with a green hair ribbon on her wrist. “I didn’t like reading that letter.”

“I know.” I sat by her side.

“The other two letters were so special. There was love there. This one . . . it was so angry and raw. It took me right back, and I don’t like being in that place again. It’s been bothering me all week.”

“Same here.”

“It’s made me think though. You were so . . . honest. Nothing in that letter was downplayed. You didn’t sugarcoat anything.”

I let out a dry laugh. “Because you weren’t supposed to read it.”

“I’m glad I did though. It made me see things from your perspective. And you were right. Mom has a way of making me question my decisions. I think she does it to challenge me and test my conviction. But because of the way she does it, I do end up doubting myself at times. I see that now.”

Halle-fucking-lujah.

“Want to know the thing that’s really been messing with me all week?” she asked. “I can’t help but think Mom was onto something. Not about you. You were right, she’s never liked you, and I’m honestly not sure why.”

“Because I have a different opinion than her one hundred percent of the time,” I muttered.

She smiled. “True.”

“What was the great Dr. Deborah onto then?”

Molly looked to the floor. “That we’ve been doomed from the start.”

Her words were like a knife to my heart. “Doomed? You really think that?”

“Well, we are divorced.”

Yes, we were.

“I won’t let Mom get inside Kali’s head,” she promised. “And I’ll try to stop letting her get inside mine too.”

“Good.” At least one good thing would come from that letter. I bumped her shoulder. “I am sorry about the letter.”

Her eyes came up to mine. “Thank you.”

We kept our gazes locked and my heart trilled a beat faster. It would have been so easy to kiss her. I wanted to kiss her. Even divorced, there weren’t many times when I didn’t want to kiss Molly.