Where's Molly(12)

As the disturbing movie plays, we power through the popcorn like we’re starving and drink the entire bottle of wine. And like a true gentleman, he lets me eat all the half-popped kernels.

Then, he grabs my legs and, resting them over his lap, massages my feet, all the while quoting lines from the film. The act is so thoughtless, so genuine, that tears rush to my eyes.

Never have I had anyone bring me flowers, set up a movie, and rub my feet. It’s not something I even imagined for myself.

“Why did you come?” I ask softly after about an hour into the movie. My head is swimming a little, but I gaze at him with perfect clarity.

He glances at me. “I wanted to spend time with you. I missed you.”

It’s a simple answer, yet my heart is climbing into my throat.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

He leans down and places a soft kiss on the top of my foot, then turns his focus back to the movie.



I haven’t been to Cage’s store, Black Portal, since that day nine years ago, desperate for an escape and hoping to God I’d find one in Cage .

He provided it for me, but it wasn’t the escape I thought I needed.

Now that I’m here again, watching him sell a TV to a typical customer, I realize I’m finding one in him now.

It’s been a few days since our movie night, and I don’t think I’ve ever texted anyone so much in my life.

He asked for my number after our movie night, promising he’d call before showing up. Reluctantly, I gave it to him, but I hadn’t expected him to text me so often. At first, I was hesitant to respond, but his charm was as addicting through the phone as it was in person, and ultimately, I found myself replying to him until it became thoughtless.

It’s been superficial—neither of us daring to tread too deeply. I know he’s overflowing with questions. Since I came in today, he’s been staring at me with a burning curiosity when he thinks I’m not paying attention yet. But I haven’t found the voice to tell him anything.

Admittedly, I’m too scared to.

I’m ashamed of my past. Ashamed of giving Layla up. And ashamed that I came running back when I couldn’t find happiness thousands of miles away from her.

And maybe a little ashamed that I didn’t have the gall to reconnect with him sooner—the only man who made me feel something outside of bone-crushing terror.

I’m sitting behind the counter, watching him work. He invited me to keep him company until the end of his shift. Even though he’s the owner, he tries to stick to a schedule alongside his employees, considering it’s his skills that are required to provide his real services .

“You are just so smart. I’ve no idea how to work these damn things anymore, but my grandson’s been asking me to get one of these flat-screen TVs for his video games. And, well, I’ll do anything for that kid,” the older woman explains, waving her wrinkled hand around as she speaks.

Cage grins, which is a complete cause for concern. Every time he does, I swear that poor woman’s heart stops, and an uncontrollable smile overtakes her wrinkled face.

“Well, then, who am I to get in the way of that? I’ll point you in the direction of the most cost-efficient TV that’ll make his heart happy. Sounds good, yeah?”

The woman titters. “So kind of you. Thank you, young man.”

They walk off, leaving me alone with Silas, Cage’s employee. We both glance at each other and then simultaneously roll our eyes.

“It’s annoying how he’s only gotten more charming with age,” Silas grumbles, flicking his black hair from his equally dark eyes.

He’s a handsome man himself, but his eyes tend to stray toward people who look a lot more like Cage.

“Whatever pays the bills, I guess,” I respond, though Silas is right. He’s only become more enigmatic since I’ve last seen him.

Which is definitely annoying.

“He never got over you, ya know,” Silas says, bringing my attention snapping back to him. When my brows crease in confusion, he explains, “It took about three years and a really drunken night to admit that you both slept together that night.” His arms rise defensively. “Which I’m not judging either of you for. Anyway, he blabbered on about how he hasn’t been able to think of anyone else since. How every day, he would picture you showing back up in the store. I guess, in a way, he’s been looking for you since you left, even if it was him that made you disappear.”

My heart clenches painfully. It’s a feeling that I understand.

Many nights, I questioned if I did the right thing by moving to Alaska. I would fantasize about what would happen if I went back and explored a different life—one with Cage.

If it would be as good as I thought it could be. But I talked myself out of it every time, convinced that changing the course of my life over one night with a man was entirely stupid and presumptuous.

I’d never been in a relationship beforehand, and certainly not after, so what the fuck would I know about what’s normal to feel after a one-night stand?

“He barely knew me,” I finally muster, clinging to the only excuse I have for the two of us always being drawn to each other the way we have. It was just one night. People don’t fall in love that quickly, and it would be insane to think otherwise.

“At one point in our lives, we don’t know our soulmates at all. But that doesn’t make them any less of one. Sometimes… sometimes you just know.”