Page 80 of The Choices I've Made
Settling slightly, I reached for the dish she held out to me and watched as she set the steaming cup of coffee on the nightstand next to me.
“How is he?” I asked, afraid to broach the subject.
“Good,” she answered. “He met a nurse. He’s pretty smitten with her.”
My brow rose in surprise as I took the first bite of peach pie, nearly weeping with joy as the combination of sweet and tart hit my taste buds. “He what?”
“I think he’s got a little crush. Maybe a Florence Nightingale thing,” she explained. “Or who knows? Maybe it’s the real deal. Either way, he was smiling for the first time in weeks.”
“That’s a definite improvement,” I agreed before asking tentatively, “How are you handling it? The other-woman thing, I mean? Even if it’s a crush, it must hurt a little?”
She broke eye contact with me, scanning the walls, and she took her time perusing the familiar paintings that lined them. Finally, when she had enough time to stew over the question, she answered, “I think you and I both know that Dean and I would never have made it to the altar. Was I upset that he’d sent his mother over here to dump me? Sure. Any woman would be, but after the liquor cleared my system, I realized it was my pride more than my heart that was truly wounded. And that…well, that just wasn’t right, you know?”
I didn’t expect she wanted an answer, so I didn’t throw one out. Instead, I reached for the coffee, letting the heat warm my body, as my eyes lingered on her.
“Why are you here, Molly?” I finally asked, setting the half-eaten pie and cup down on the nightstand beside me.
“You know why,” she answered, her blue irises searing a hole into mine.
“I do, but it doesn’t change the fact that I want to hear you say it.”
She took a deep breath, her breasts rising as her lungs filled with air. The loose-fitting tank top she wore did little to cover the tiny movement, and I was instantly captivated.
So much so that I felt my fingers ball into tight fists at my sides, trying to keep myself from leaping across the bed and ripping that flimsy piece of fabric from her body.
But I couldn’t.
Not yet.
This had to be her choice.
She’d come to me, and now, I wanted to see her follow through with that decision. I wanted to hear the words. I needed to hear her say how much she wanted me in this moment, even if it only lasted through the night.
She took a seat on the bed, her bare knee brushing mine. “I didn’t want to feel this way,” she began. “The moment you stepped back in town, I wanted to hate you, Jake. You tore my heart out the day you left. But I can’t deny the feelings I still have for you, and I’m not going to sit here and pretend like it’s some stupid itch that needs to be scratched.”
I looked away.
“And, if this means I’ll hurt ten times more tomorrow, it’s a risk I’m willing to take,” she continued, reaching out to grasp my chin. She turned my head back, so our eyes met once more. “But I won’t blame it on you,” she vowed. “Not anymore. I’m not that tearful girl on the dock watching you sail away. And I know what I want.”
My eyes squeezed shut as I contemplated what I was doing.
I’d never known she was there that morning when I left Ocracoke all those years ago.
Had I known, would I have made the same decision?
Yes.
The sad truth was, I would have looked at her tear-soaked face and turned the other way until my feet were planted firmly on that ferry in the middle of the ocean. I hadn’t cared about anyone back then, except for myself and my own preservation.
Was it any different now?
“Are you sure, Molly?” I asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. She looked down at it before I added, “You know I’m not staying. I’m going to find someone to replace me in a couple of months, maybe sooner. I have a job to return to in Chicago.”
Her demeanor changed just then—from soft and comfortable to something a bit more edgy. “You don’t think I know that, Jake? You don’t think I’ve already figured out that, given the opportunity, you’ll be on the first ferry out of this place? I know you just as well as you assume to know me. And I’ll be fine by the way. I watched you walk away once before. I think I’ve gotten the hang of it by now.”
“You still haven’t said it,” I reminded her. If I was going to be the heartless rat bastard who slept with his ex, I might as well play the part.
Rather than roll her eyes, which was her typical move, she bent forward on her hands and knees, giving me the perfect view of a barely there lace bra as she moved closer. I felt movement down below as my dick stirred to life at the tiniest glimpse of her breasts as she brought herself in front of me. Her hot breath on my neck sent shivers up my spine, causing all sorts of things in my body to stand at attention.
