Hunter’s expression grew tender, contrite. “They were really making out. At least for the few minutes that I saw them.”
Molly nodded, surprised at how unaltered she is by this revelation. Perhaps deep down she’d always known it was a stretch to believe the things Jake pledged when he was trying to save himself. She knew him well enough to know that he didn’t want to lie, but he did. He couldn’t help himself. Jake wanted to be a better man than he was—this had always been true—but this struggle of his wasn’t her problem anymore.
Molly closed her eyes, and another memory from that night sprang forward. Her twenty-three-year-old self, tipsy after graduation drinks with her friends, pushing through the crowded bar at Brooklyn Bowl to find Jake before the show. An elbow bumping her, one that belonged to a man in tailored work clothes. His dark floppy hair, kind eyes, quick apology.
“Oh my god. You were there,” she told Hunter, astonished. “I bumped into you.”
He smiled. “You remember. And I thought I bumped into you.”
“I knew you looked familiar that day at the coffee shop.”
“Yeah.” Hunter rested his hands in his lap. “Which brings me to my last confession. That day at the coffee shop, I wasn’t just looking for an open seat. I mean I was, but there were tables available—I think you were too in the zone writing to notice.” He exhaled. “The truth is, I recognized you again. I couldn’t believe it was you. I just … I know it sounds crazy, but I’d always remembered you from those two concerts. I thought about you sometimes—I remembered seeing you so upset over Jake at the Bowl and I … well, I just knew then and there that you were too good for him, that someone like you deserved more than what it seemed he was giving. It wasn’t only because you’re beautiful—which you are—but something else, too. Something about you that I’ve never been able to put my finger on. We’d never talked before, obviously, but I just had this feeling like … I needed to know you.”
The driver glanced at them in the rearview mirror as he hooked a left on East Houston, raising a pair of bushy eyebrows as they inched into the clogged traffic.
Molly couldn’t speak, her eyes pinned to Hunter’s face. All she felt was the leap of her heart, the beat of her blood in her ears.
“I’m sorry I never said anything before,” he went on. “I don’t know, I felt weird, and you were with Jake.” Hunter rubbed his forehead. “But the reason I’m telling you all of this now is because the reason I knew I didn’t love Blair is because of you.” His gaze softened. “I’m in love with you, Molly. I think I have been for a while now. Maybe the whole time I’ve known you. And I tried to stop it—I thought being with Blair would make it go away—but it didn’t. And when you told me about the baby a few days ago, when you said you were leaving Jake, well, fuck. All I’ve been able to think about is telling you that I love you and that I want to be with you. I know it sounds insane, Moll. It is insane. But I realized it wasn’t fair to Blair to keep going on the way we were. If I can’t be with you, I want to be with someone I love the way I love you. That’s all I know.”
Molly said nothing for an eternal moment. Then her eyes filled suddenly—unexpectedly—and she blinked out a few heavy tears.
“Nina was right,” Molly said, mostly to herself.
“What?”
“Sorry—Nina, my friend, said that you loved me. And she was right.”
A smile played over his mouth. “Nina was right.”
“But … but what about the baby, Hunt?”
He shrugged. “I want all of you, Moll. Whatever that means. And look, I would never want to be the guy trying to steal you from someone else. I meant what I said the other day—if you can make this work with Jake, you should. It’s your baby together. I just … I had to be honest with you, for my own sanity. I’m sorry, I know it’s probably selfish—”
“It’s not selfish, Hunter.” A tear slid down Molly’s cheek. “It’s the furthest thing from selfish.” She reached for his hand, which was smooth and warm. For the first time since she’d taken the pregnancy test, she felt calm. She felt safe in whatever uncertainty the future would bring, at the same time her cells pulsed with a longing that threatened to shatter her.
“God, I think … I think I love you, too, Hunt.” As the words escaped her lips, Molly knew they were true. “I hadn’t been able to admit it to myself, but I think I realized it when the four of us had dinner at St. Anselm last summer. When I met Blair, I felt … jealous. Like I wanted you to belong to me, not her. Which wasn’t fair, obviously. Because I had Jake. But that’s the thing, Hunt—” Molly paused. She glanced out the window at the sea of traffic, overwhelmed by a thousand clashing emotions.