Molly’s mouth fell open a bit, and she cocked her head.
Matt frowned, squirmed, and continued, “Or never, even? Never is fine. We can still live in my flat with the baby. We’ll just be friends.”
And, what? Just pretend that night never happened? That if we were that close, it wouldn’t replay over and over again? Molly wanted to slap him. She even imagined the loud crack of her hand and the snap of his neck.
God, I know he’s insecure, but seriously? After she held Matt in her heart for three years, kissed him countless times in those stolen hours… After Molly spent the night with him in spite of every principle to the contrary, he still didn’t get how she felt about him, emotionally or physically. For the latter reason, she didn’t dare explain how her head went airy when Matt kissed her, or about the warm buzz low, low in her belly when she thought about him, or how she sometimes had to force certain images of him from her mind
Especially the ones from that night.
Molly couldn’t trust him or herself to keep from ending that particular conversation in her bedroom.
“Just friends? Yeah, Matthew, we tried that. Birds and bees, for goodness sake. That experiment is how I got pregnant.” And after that, how could I possibly be a mom to someone else?
“But, Molly, stuff happens, you know—”
“You’re right. ‘Just friends’ make babies together ALL THE TIME!”
“—you live, learn, and move on.”
“Yeah, you do. And what I’ve learned is getting too close to you makes it easy for me to mess up. To do things which contradict everything I believe is right.” Both Molly’s hands gripped the edge of the stair where she sat. She looked down, shaking her head. Her nails dug into the carpet until her knuckles turned white.
“Well, what other options do we have, Mol? You can’t blog about the Lansing art and entertainment beat from Los Angeles. We can’t support two homes and a baby at L.A. prices unless you’re making darn good money too, and I can’t move to Michigan without giving up well over half of my income.”
Matt had clearly thought a lot about this during his several days of radio silence. Molly loved him for that. And for a million other reasons, every inch of him, inside and out. She wanted to touch his face but refused to let herself—this time. She probably should’ve stopped with all the touching a long time ago. It might have kept things more clear between them.
She bit into her bottom lip. God, if things were just a little bit different... If Matt could find a way to trust God, a way to be a little less broken, he would be, beyond question, the sort of person—maybe the only person—she’d want to be with for the rest of her life. White roses, gold rings, and all the other things too.
Including replays of that night.
But that wasn’t one of Molly’s options. In spite of everything she’d done for the last three years, every trick she’d pulled, to change it. To change him. As if she could.
The too-thick air in the suddenly tight space hitched its way into Molly’s lungs like the ride of a stick shift tranny with a bad driver. Matt’s gaze on her face was both gentle and desperate. Vulnerable. He obviously cared deeply about the child Molly carried…and about her too.
It wasn’t enough, though. All it did was make her next statement even harder.
Molly swallowed hard, though, and made herself say it. “I think we should give the baby up for adoption.”
Matt’s jaw dropped, and he shook his head wildly. “No. Uh-uh.”
“Matt, I know it’s hard. I love this kid already, but I can’t think about just myself now. I have to think about the baby, to put him first.”
“I can do that! I’m trying, if only you’d let me.”
“I won’t live with you. Period. There are over 2200 miles between you and me, and that will not change. So what do we have left?”
“Molly, please—”
“How nice will it be for our baby to spend his childhood shuttling back and forth across the country between parents who can’t agree on a single thing to save their lives? We can pick a good family and know our child won’t be torn in half for his whole existence.”
He didn’t answer.
Molly rested a hand on Matt’s upper arm and rubbed gently. Trying to soothe him. His biceps were tense, flexed. Firmness, radiating heat, and a fine network of rippling ink. Oh, God. Molly drew her hand back. “We did the wrong thing that night. Now we owe it to this child to do the right thing.”
“So that’s it?” Matt threw his arms out, and she flinched. “It’s over?”
“What’s over?” The hand with which Molly’d touched him fell into her lap with its mate.
“You’re set and settled. You’re just gonna give my baby away.” Matt’s skin flushed and his jaw clenched. He waited for her to speak.
She didn’t know what to say. Molly looked down at her hands, still folded in her lap.
“Well, Molly, I’m not a lawyer, but I can call one. I’m pretty sure you can’t sell my kid without my permission.”
Tears burned down Molly’s cheeks. She hated he was angry. She didn’t understand how he could even imply she wanted to sell the baby they’d made together. Didn’t Matt know her at all? “That’s not what this is about.” Her voice was almost a whisper, but even if Molly shouted, she couldn’t make herself heard.
Matt was still shaking his head. “If you don’t want the baby, give it to me. I’ll take care of it myself. I’ll love it and feed it and send it to college. But you can’t just give it away. I’ll do it all on my own before I’ll let strangers take my only child.”
Molly cried harder. Now she shook her head. Aside from an abortion, Matt raising the baby by himself was the last thing she wanted. Not only because she wanted this child so badly, but also because Molly could see where that might end. A few decades down the road, her son or daughter, lonely and hopeless, spouting the same sorts of despair which catapulted from Matt’s mouth on the night of the choice that began their child’s life.
She said, “I do want him. You can’t imagine how much.”
“Then we’ll raise him together, no matter how far apart we live while we do it.”
He picked up his backpack, yanked open the door, and stalked out, leaving Molly sitting on the stairs next to his thoughtful gifts and the empty boxes they’d come from.
Chapter three
Molly twisted her sweaty apple juice bottle back and forth against the small square napkin on the table. After a month of negotiation, she was convinced Matt wouldn’t change his mind about adoption. Molly got what he said—he wanted to be a dad and he “wasn’t getting any younger.” Raising a child would give Matt’s life new purpose, and he’d convinced himself her baby was the only chance he’d ever get.
And Molly got what he himself probably didn’t get—Matthew’s strict and hypocritical Catholic father had walked out on him and his mother when he was six. Over thirty years later, Matt remained way bitter about the divorce…maybe the marriage too. Likely, the whole fiasco was why he’d never married himself. He would kick and scream against doing anything to their child that might feel like what Pete Kelly had done to him.