And still, there were lingering traces of Molly that Jake couldn’t shake from his system. He thought of her constantly, wondering how she was doing and if she was okay and why she’d left without saying goodbye. Every time he walked by a bookstore, he went inside, scouring the shelves for Needs. He asked countless booksellers when the novel was slated for publication, but strangely, none of them had heard of it.
Jake was hit with the urge to call Molly countless times, but he knew in his gut she wouldn’t answer, the same way she hadn’t answered when they’d first broken up. In March, a year after their split, he sent her an email he’d been drafting in the notes section of his phone for months. He wrote about the band breaking up and how much he missed her. He said that if she was ever ready to talk, he’d drop everything and run to where she was.
Months passed by, and she didn’t write back. Jake had gotten in the habit of checking her Facebook page somewhat frequently, and though there were never updates, he remained hopeful that at some point there’d be something there—some nugget of information to shed light on her existence.
That summer, Jake checked her profile to find that she’d finally updated her page for the first time in half a decade. His heart turned to stone when he saw that she’d changed her name—Molly Diamond had become Molly Diamond O’Neil. She had a new picture, too. The photo was a black-and-white portrait of Molly and a dark-haired man whom Jake recognized immediately. It was Hunter.
Jake studied the photo in disbelief, his breath knocked out of his chest. Molly and Hunter posed on a dock in front of the ocean, their smiles wide and jubilant. She wore a long, strapless column of a gown, a delicate veil floating behind her, caught in a gust of wind. Beside her, Hunter stood tall and proud, his thick hair neatly combed, his left hand supporting the small of her back.
Not a year and a half after their breakup, and Molly was married? And to Hunter? Jake was pissed—no, he was indignant—but more than that, the news smashed his heart all over again. And there was nothing he could do about it, except try to hide his feelings from Sisi.
In August, when Jake had been unemployed for nearly a year, he received a phone call from someone in HR at the Manhattan branch of Randolph Group, the insurance company founded by Sisi’s father. They were offering Jake a job.
That afternoon, he texted Sisi and asked her to meet him at the Standard after she got off work.
“I don’t need you doing me any favors,” Jake told her, signaling to their waitress for another beer. He’d quickly drained the first one. “And I’ve never expressed any interest in working in insurance.” He frowned.
She took a sip of her vodka soda. “I thought you’d be excited,” she said. “You’ve been wallowing, Jake. You’re clearly depressed. You have to move on with your life; you can’t just sit at home all day and feel sad about Danner Lane—”
“I’m not sad about Danner Lane.”
“Then what are you sad about?” Her emerald eyes locked on his, the question a challenge.
“Nothing,” he answered quickly. “But I told you, I’ve been approached by a few managers. A solo album isn’t off the table—”
“But do you really want to go through all that? Just to try to prove to Sam and Hale that you’re better?”
“It’s not about them.” He stared into his empty glass, not sure if he believed his own words.
“Really? They’ve got a good thing going, Jake. You know it’s true. The Times called them the next Allman Brothers.”
“Avett Brothers, Sisi.” Jake grunted. “There’s a big difference.”
“Whatever. They’re not as good as you guys were, but everyone in my office has heard of the Lane Brothers.”
Jake shrugged, dipping a piece of soft pretzel into a plastic container of cheese sauce. “I guess they’ve found their niche.”
“Look.” She placed her hand over his, interlacing their fingers. The volume of chattering voices began to rise around them as more of the after-work crowd packed into the Standard’s outdoor biergarten. “I’m giving you tough love because I want you to be happy, Jake. What happens when Sam and Hale are killing it as this new folk duo and you’re just yesterday’s gravy?”
He glanced up at Sisi. Her expression was full of care, of genuine concern. He was lucky, he knew more than ever, to have a smart, strong, beautiful woman in his life who looked at him this way. Who loved him this deeply.