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“No, I totally get what you mean. You wanted to keep it safe in a bubble. Not let the outside world interfere.” She nods pensively, dipping her own spoon into the tubs of chocolate and peanut butter before licking it clean.
This is certainly not the most… shareable dessert, but fuck it. If you can’t share germs with your friends, are you really friends?
“Exactly. Which is ironic, since telling someone might’ve helped avoid things exploding the way they did. Because, maybe if I had told you about him—if I’d told anyone—I’d have found out sooner who he really was. Since my clueless butt wasn’t able to put two and two together.”
“Oh my god, Bridge.” Molly gasps; she brings her hands to her mouth in shock. “Please tell me he wasn’t another grifter trying to steal your money.”
I snort. “No, he wasn’t. He turned out to be Stevenson’s CFO.”
Molly blinks at me a few times, too stunned to speak for a moment. “What?”
With a sigh, I walk over to the fridge and pull out two beers. “We’re gonna need another drink for this story.”
* * *
Molly sighs once.“Listen, I’m not excusing his behavior, but?—”
“Nope.”
“I get what you’re saying, Bridge, but?—”
“Molly.”
“The man loves you. He loves you and you love him and?—”
“No.”
Molly huffs in frustration. “Why are you so willing to forgive me but not him? You just told me you fell in love with him. You just said you thought he was the love of your life. That’s not something to take lightly or let slip through your fingers.”
“Was. Past tense.” I get up to grab another beer, wobble to the fridge. It’s seven P.M. now, which means we’ve been drinking for eight hours. I don’t even know how we’re alive at this point. I guess thanks to the DoorDash gods and Chinese food for providing sustenance to absorb all the cheap champagne and beer we’ve consumed today.
“Okay,” she says, getting up to her feet on the bed, holding out her hands for me to toss her a can. I do and miss, but it falls at her feet. She doesn’t seem to mind though. “Okay, but, like. Remember what you said when I thanked you for forgiving me? You said ‘Molly, goddess divine?—”
“I did not use the words ‘goddess divine’”
“Shh! This is my story. You said ‘Molly, you goddess divine, everyone deserves a second chance.’”
“I did not sayeveryone. I saidlet’s give this a second chance, but?—”
“Did you or did you not say that?”
“Ijusttold you what I actually said. Dude, I think you’re drunk.”
“Your face is drunk.”
We burst out into peals of laughter on the bed, struggling for breath. “God, I needed this kind of silliness. I missed you a ton,” I tell her.
Molly smiles. “Me too.” But then she sighs and all humor leaves her face. In its stead is only concern for a friend who’s hurting. “I’m serious, Bridge. You love him, don’t you?”
I swallow and throw myself onto my back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling as the tears start to stream down my face. They come so easily these days.
“More than I’ve ever loved anyone before in my life. It’s like…” I try for a deep breath and fail again. There’s just no room. “It’s like nothing I’ve ever known, Molls. Like… I feel like half of me is gone. That it’s with him. And I’m scared I’ll never get it back. Worse still, I’m scared I won’t ever want it back.”
“Forgive him, Bridge. You’re so good at seeing the good in everything—in people and in every horrible situation you’ve been in. Why can’t you do that here?”
“Honestly, I think it’s because of that very reason that I don’t want to. He once told me looking too often at the bright side of things can result in settling. That I’d settled too much in life, accepted too many bad things. That I should fight for what I deserve. And wouldn’t me just accepting that he kept who he was from me—even if it was with good intentions—be settling?”
“Yeah, but wouldn’t you be doing the same if you don’t? He doesn’t want you to settle because he wants happiness for you. He wants you to fight for what you deserve. So wouldn’t younotforgiving him leave you settling for an incomplete life without him?”
