Page 94 of It's Always Been You
Right now, it’s her hand in mine.
Turning to Molly, I put my free hand on her cheek and turn her head so she’s looking at me. Her eyes are red-rimmed andexhausted, still covered in a sheen of tears. One escapes, sliding slowly down her cheek, and I lean forward to kiss it away. When I pull back, her gaze searches mine. It’s open and trusting, like she is giving herself over to me, knowing I can take care of her.
My heart pours out love for her. I swear I will prove myself worthy of that trust.
Letting go of Molly’s face, I kick my seat back as far as it will go. Then, I wrap my arm around her waist and lift her over the center console, settling her on my lap. She curls herself around me immediately, laying her head on my shoulder. Her hand is still in mine.
“Please don’t let go of me,” she says, her voice quiet and shaky with a touch of fear. Her first words since we left the hospital crack my heart clean in half.
I tighten my arm around her. Kiss the top of her head. Breathe her in. She’s here. She’s safe. We will get through this.
We faced grief together once before and I broke us. This time, I am going to hold on as tightly as she needs me to and never let her go.
For both of us.
This time, we stay.
“Never, Rory. Literally never. If you want to stay here in the car just like this, we can do exactly that. Or we can go inside together and take a shower and get dressed in the most comfortable clothes we can find. Curl up in bed and get some rest. No matter what, I’m not going anywhere, and I’ll never let go. Whatever we do, we do it together, okay?”
“Okay,” Molly whispers. “Can we go inside then?”
“Definitely.”
“Can I keep holding your hand?”
I close my eyes and rest my head against hers, fighting against the rising tide of emotions because this is about her.
“Until the end of time.”
When we get inside, I detour us to the kitchen and fill up the biggest cup I can find with ice water before leading Molly upstairs and straight into the bathroom, one hand still wrapped around hers. I put the lights on dim and close the door behind us.
Setting the cup on the edge of the vanity, I reach in to flip on the shower and turn to face Molly. I pick the cup back up and hold it to her.
“Can you drink for me, baby?”
“Yes.” Molly takes the cup, taking a few sips and handing it back to me.
“Okay, I’m going to let go of your hand for just a minute. Just to help you out of your clothes and into the shower.”
She nods and unwinds her hand from mine. Working quickly, I push her jacket off and toss it in the corner. When I turn back, Molly is looking down at herself, running her fingers over some damp splotches on her pink sweater.
“He cried on me,” she says, fingers still running over and over the damp spots. “Jordan. When I told him. At first, he didn’t believe me. Didn’t think it was real. Then when he realized it was, he said her name. That’s it. JustAllie. He collapsed and I held onto him, and he cried. I would have thought these spots would have dried already. I could feel his heart break. Like, I could actually feel it. I did that. I told him Allie was gone, and I broke his heart.”
Molly’s voice breaks a little on the last word, and I cup her face in both of my hands, tilting her head up so she’s looking at me. I’m relieved she’s saying even this much. Giving me thispiece of her. I stroke her cheeks with my thumbs and try to make her feel the seriousness of my words.
“You didn’t break Jordan’s heart, Rory. The person who killed Allie broke his heart. You made sure you were the one to tell him. That he could hear it from a friend, someone who loves him and Allie, instead of a stranger. You made him feel as safe as he could feel when he got the worst news of his life. What you did tonight was brave and beautiful, and it honored your friendship with Allie and Jordan. Baby, I am in awe of you.”
Molly closes her eyes, tipping her forehead against mine, and I know she’s had enough talking for now. Taking care of the rest of our clothes, I guide her into the shower, closing us into the steam filled space.
Keeping Molly’s back to the spray so her body stays warm, I reach for her shampoo and open it, filling the shower stall with the scent of strawberries. I squeeze some into my hand and lather up her hair, massaging it into her scalp before helping her rinse it out. I do the same with the conditioner, working it all the way down to the ends of her long curls the way I’ve seen Molly do, then pushing her down gently so she’s sitting on the shower bench.
I adjust the shower head so the warm water still hits her, then grab the special brush she keeps on the shower ledge and slide onto the bench behind her. Slowly, I work the brush through her hair, gently detangling, remembering everything she once told me about caring for curly hair. Molly melts back against me while I brush, and something about this moment of care is deeply settling. Another tie binding us together.
When I’m done with her hair, I wash and rinse her body and make quick work of my own shower. Then I turn off the water and bundle Molly into the towel I dropped over my heated towel rack before we got in the shower. The one I bought when she told me how much she liked hers. I wrap another towel aroundher hair the way I know she likes, then grab one for myself, taking the cup of water off the sink and guiding her out of the bathroom.
I set the water on the nightstand, and when I reach for my dresser drawer to grab clothes for both of us, Molly stops me with a hand on my wrist. “No clothes,” she says.
I turn to face her, and her eyes search my face. “I want to feel you lying next to me. Wrapped around me. I don’t want anything between us.” Her voice has a tinge of desperation to it, like she’s trying to outrun something.
