Page 12 of Molly: Part One
“Shabby chic, it’s a style. Sort of old fashioned, soft pastel colours and really homely. Here look, like this,” I get up and show him the page I was looking at.
“Right, okay. Come on Miss Molly get your shoes on and let’s get this over and done with.”
Thirty minutes later we are pulling up in Ryan’s car to the flat I shared with dickhead Max, as he is now seemingly called. His car is here but all the lights are off. “Oh god, I hope he’s not at it again,” I muse quietly.
“If he is then by the time I’ve finished with him he won’t be able to do it again,” Ryan growls from the drivers seat. I love having someone who will stand up for me like that. Max never did it, ever.
With a squeeze of my thigh Ryan jumps out the car, grabs my suitcases in one hand and my hand in the other as he pulls me towards the flat. He must be able to feel my hand shaking because he reassures me that it will be okay.
We’ve been at the flat just over an hour and we have all the rooms but the kitchen cleared of my things. I’m double checking everything when I hear a crash in the kitchen. I go running in to find Ryan stood there with a murderous look on his face and a hole in the plasterboard. “What the fuck happened?” I question.
“Sorry, it just made me so fucking mad.”
“What did?”
“This…” Ryan passes me over a note.
Molly,
Where the fuck are you?
There is no food in the house and everything needs cleaning.
Hurry up and get it fucking done, I don’t work all night to come home to a shithole.
Max
“Oh.” Tears start to well in my eyes. If I ever needed proof that Max didn’t love me then here it is. Apparently I was just his housekeeper.
“Molly, come here,” Ryan says as he pulls me into his arms. I try to hold it together but the truth hurts and I sob into his chest. Again.
After we finished packing my cooking stuff we leave the flat. I was confident that we had everything although Ryan looked a little unsure, as there were only two suitcases and three boxes.
“I thought you loved shopping?” he asked me as we left. “How come you only have this much stuff?”
This meant I had to begrudgingly explain that Max only allowed me so much space in the flat and if I filled it I either didn’t buy anything new or I had to get rid of something. I hadn’t been shopping in ages, which was why it was one of the first things I did today. I can take up as much of my own space as I want with clothes, shoes, makeup and other crap, and I can’t wait.
We drove home in silence after my admission, I could tell by how tight Ryan was holding the steering wheel that he was angry, he hadn’t really recovered from the note before I added more fuel to his fire. He did manage to convince me to leave a note of my own, which I did. It basically said something to the effect of, ‘I’ve left you, you cheating dickhead. You’ll have to do your own cooking and cleaning from now on. Fuck off out of my life and never contact me again’. Some might say it was petty, but it made me feel a bit better.
It was nearly ten o’clock by the time we arrived home with our curry, he told me to go and get it all set up in the kitchen whilst he got my stuff into my room.
We ate with both of us lost in our own thoughts, not much was said, but it was a comfortable silence. I do wish I could read his mind though. I have a feeling whatever was going on behind those bright blues of his was about me because he kept looking up at me.
After we finished and cleaned up, I told him I was going to sort through my stuff, have a bath in my new roll top bath and that I would sleep on the sofa tonight. To my surprise he didn’t argue, he just said goodnight and kissed me on the cheek as he headed up to his own room, leaving me totally confused by his sudden distance.
