Page 77 of Molly

RYAN: I love you, Molly. I want our family. I’m not giving up.

RYAN: I’ll show you, baby. You can count on me.

As much as I want to tell him to stop, not to bother, I can’t.

Part of me hopes he does.

I don’t know if I’ll ever love anyone else the way I love Ryan Anderson.

44

MOLLY

I’m in the kitchen, rummaging through the pantry for chocolate, when I hear a knock on the door. I know who it is, so I don’t bother rushing to answer it. I feel my phone vibrate in my back pocket and pull it out.

UNKNOWN: Can we talk?

I read it, confused.

ME: Who is this?

They reply immediately.

UNKNOWN: Jess.

I roll my eyes.Seriously?

ME: Pass.

UNKNOWN: Please? I can meet you at Coffee Leaf? Ryan won’t talk to me. I just want to clear the air, tell you my side...

I laugh as I type.

ME: I wouldn’t come to my cafe unless you like spit in your coffee, girl.

UNKNOWN: Seriously? You can’t even be mature enough to have a conversation with me?

ME: No.

I put my phone back in my pocket and make my way to the door. Sure enough, when I open it, there’s a plastic container sitting on the welcome mat waiting for me, Ryan nowhere to be seen. I pick it up and head back into the kitchen, putting the container down on the counter.

“Who was that?” Evie asks, walking into the kitchen. The girls have been hovering a lot. When I’m not at work, one of them is here with me and Em. It’s been over three weeks since we broke up, and my heart still fucking aches.

I gesture to the container and roll my eyes.

“Ah, another apology cake, or is it cookies again? Brownies?” She laughs, making fun of the situation.

Ryan has been apology baking basically every day for the past two weeks. He can’t bake, but he’s persistent. I’ll give him that. He also leaves a sketch of Emma, or me, or three of us inside the container. Every. Day.

He’s so talented. It’s not fair that he’s using his gift against me.

Emma asks about him every day, and it breaks my heart a little more every time. I miss him as much as she does, so I get it. My shoulders slump at the thought, and I turn my head to Evie. “What do I do here, girl?”

She looks surprised that I’ve asked and sets the water bottle she just grabbed from the fridge down on the counter before crossing her arms. “What do you want to do?”

I throw my hands in the air and sigh. “I don't know anymore. When it all went down, I was so angry, and I still am, but now... I feel his absence all day, every day. It’s not getting easier. I thought it would.” I bury my face in my hands and peek at her through my fingers. “He bakes me apology cakes, Evie...”

“Ah, so it is a cake,” she replies, eyeing the container.

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