When he heard the choking, gasping sound of her car, he shook his head and smiled, waiting for her to use her new key to open the door.
He frowned when she rang the doorbell. Maybe she forgot it.
He knew as soon as he opened the door and saw her red-rimmed eyes that she’d been crying. Something inside him told him he knew why.
He stood aside when she walked in. She was wearing old jeans, tennis shoes, and a sweater, her hair pulled up in a ponytail, and he’d wager everything she owned was piled up in George’s trunk.
“You’re leaving,” he said.
She turned around, gave him a clipped nod.
“It’s . . . time for me to go.”
Her words stabbed like a dagger in his chest.
He crossed his arms. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Molly.”
She drew in a shuddering breath. “You know it can’t work between us, Carter. We have an insurmountable past that I can’t see us getting through. It’s been fun between us the last few months, but it’s not a permanent thing. There’s just too much history between us.”
He cocked a brow. “History being three years of loving each other in high school, of committing to being together forever?”
“And an unplanned pregnancy, a miscarriage, and an ugly breakup.”
“See, that’s the difference between you and me. That’s the only part of our relationship you chose to remember. The bad. I remembered how great we were together, how much fun we had, how we couldn’t wait until we saw each other, how we couldn’t get enough of each other. I remembered the plans we made for our future together.”
“Plans that were derailed when I got pregnant.”
“Right. And that sucked. And your miscarriage was awful. Not just for you, Molly, but for me, too. You were so busy feeling shitty and miserable and devastated and crushed, I wasn’t allowed to feel anything because you had to feel and say everything. And then when I got over my shock that you lost our baby, you had already played judge, jury, and executioner on our relationship, and you were already gone.”
She blinked, but didn’t say anything.
“And now, you’ve decided this relationship isn’t going to work, without discussing it with me. Because God forbid you and I should have an honest discussion about anything, right? All these months I’ve tiptoed around you, not wanting to do anything to upset the balance of what we had going. I was happy enough just to be with you again, see where things could go between us, let our feelings for each other lead the way.
“But you know what? That’s not gonna work for me anymore. I’m not going to let you walk out on me again without you knowing that I love you. Hell, I’ve always loved you. I don’t know about you, Molly, but loving someone isn’t something we forget how to do. How I feel about you hasn’t changed from the time I was sixteen years old and first laid eyes on you. It’s a different love now—it’s grown up and a little weathered, but it’s still how I feel about you. And it goddamn hurts that you’re not willing to put in the effort to build on it. Instead, you’re running.”
She looked at him, just looked at him, as if his declaration of love had meant nothing.
That hurt. He’d just told her he loved her. Didn’t that goddamn mean anything to her?
Finally, she spoke, but it wasn’t the words he wanted to hear.
“I’m not running. I just—”
“That’s such bullshit. You can’t face your own feelings, so you’re running like hell away from them. Away from me, because you don’t trust me.”
“This has nothing to do with trust, Carter.”
Her eyes spit fire. Good. At least maybe she felt something. He sure as hell did.
“Doesn’t it? Last time you judged me for failing you. And maybe I did. I was a kid back then, and scared as hell about how our lives were about to change. When you lost the baby, for a few minutes, I didn’t know what to think or how to feel. And maybe I did feel a few seconds of—I don’t know—it wasn’t relief, it was numbness. Because all the plans we’d made had been shot to hell—twice—and we’d have to start all over again. You were hurting, I was hurting, and we’d have to figure it all out. I didn’t know what to do to make you feel better, so I just shut down and ended up not being there for you when you needed me the most. That was a shitty thing to do, and I regretted it. Unfortunately, you knew me so damn well you picked right up on my reaction, and I’m so sorry for that.”
She just sat there, watching him, but at least this time he was going to get to say how he felt. Before she walked away this time, she’d know.
“You know what? I’m not that kid anymore. But you’ll never give me the chance to be the man I can be for you, to show you the love you deserve, because, to you, I’ll always be the guy who failed you. So as always, you know best, and you’re going to end it for both of us before we get any closer—before I have a chance to hurt you again, right?”
She didn’t answer, and he hated seeing the tears in her eyes. He’d already hurt her once, and he never intended to do it again. Maybe she was right. Maybe they weren’t ever going to be right for each other.
He wanted her to stand up for them. To stand up now and argue with him. He could handle hours of arguments with her, because at least then she’d be present in the relationship. The two of them, fighting for what they both deserved.