“Wait,” she pleads, sniffling. “There’s something I need to know.”
He’s halfway out the door. “What is it?”
“What does it mean that you never wrote a song about me?”
Jake sighs, his shoulders aching under the weight of his bags. “It means that we’re over.”
He trudges out to the driveway, feels her watching him from under the portico. There’s a nip in the August night that wasn’t around a week earlier, a dispiriting chill that says fall isn’t far off. From the walkway, Jake looks back over his shoulder to where Sabrina stands on the front stoop, her hands knotted together at her chest.
“If you want a family, Sisi, you should have one.” His gaze softens. “Don’t let me be the one to stop you.”
He tosses his bags in the back seat of the Jeep, then climbs into the front and turns on the ignition. Part of him wishes he could travel back in time and do it all over. But what would he have done differently? Forsaken Danner Lane? He might’ve, if he’d known Molly was pregnant. More likely, he would’ve chosen all three of them—the band and Molly and Stella—and then what? Would a different breaking point have come for Molly eventually? Would she have left him, anyway? He doesn’t know. There are a million ways their story could’ve played out, but this is the only way that it did. One thing Jake knows for sure is that he could have been a better partner back then, but he wasn’t. He was twenty-six years old.
All there is now, is now. It’s a dark evening, and he doesn’t have answers as he pulls the Jeep out of the driveway. With the headlights on, he can only see a few feet ahead, but maybe that’s the way it should be. Jake knows, at least, where he’s going tonight.
Chapter Thirty-nine
Molly
August 2022
Molly blinks her eyes open. She’s in bed in a dimly lit room, a single beam of sunlight slipping through the drapes and reaching across the tiled floor. She sees her mother’s familiar face—soft cheeks, wide hazel eyes—above her. Pain sears the whole left side of her head.
“Moo.” Her mother’s voice is smooth and soft. “Can you hear me?”
She nods. The pain spreads lower, down through her abdomen and pelvis. Everything hurts. She wrestles her way through the cloudiness, fighting to remember. And suddenly, it comes back, all of it, rushing into her consciousness like the memory of a nightmare. Except that it was real.
“How long was I out?” Molly’s voice is slow, creaky. She sees Andrew, perched in a chair behind her mother. He smiles and scoots forward.
“Just a few hours,” her mom says. “You’re in the hospital, honey. Oh, Moo, I’m so relieved you’re awake. They said you’d wake up soon, but we’ve been so worried. It was a bad fall you had.”
“Hey, Molls.” Andrew reaches over, squeezes her hand.
“Hey, Andy.” Molly gives a small smile. “Is Stella—” Her voice cracks. She has so many questions, she doesn’t know where to start. “Are Stella and Hunter—”
“They’re fine. They’re at home.” Her mother blinks. “Hunter was here for a while. He left about an hour ago to get Stella from Becky’s.”
“Hunter was here?” Molly can’t believe it. She remembers the look on his face at the party, the way he’d stopped mid-step when Sabrina revealed what Molly had done. The unforgivable crime she’s committed against their marriage, the vows she has broken. Molly feels heavy with shame.
“And Stella? Was she here, too? Does she know what happened? Did she … did she hear the things Sabrina said?”
Molly’s mother shakes her head. “Stella has been at Becky’s through all this.” She pauses. “And no, she didn’t register what Sabrina said about … her father. All she knows is that you and Sabrina had a fight and that you bumped your head and had to see a doctor.”
“Oh, Mom. I’m so sorry. You must think—”
“Shh. Let’s not worry about all that now. I don’t think anything except I love you and I’m so glad you’re all right.”
Molly exhales, relieved, at least, that Stella doesn’t know about her and Jake. “My head is killing me, Mom. But I’m all right? They said I’m all right?”
Her mother is quiet for several moments. “The doctors said it could have been much worse. You’ve got a concussion and a few bruised ribs. But, Moo…” She hesitates. “Hunter should be the one to tell you, but I…” Her mother’s voice cracks. Her eyes are glossy.