Page 98 of Someone to Hold

The rain is finally starting to ease up when I walk into Molly’s house, and I place my boots on the mat next to the front door, hang my wet jacket in the laundry room, then head up the stairs.

The kids are together in the bed in Laurel’s room, the sheets and quilt tucked under their chins.

“Luke,” Molly says as I enter, her voice soft but stern. “What do you want to say to Chase?”

The boy scoots up to a sitting position. “I’m real sorry I broke the rules and took Gumdrop for a ride without you. I wanted to clear my head like you do sometimes, but I promise I won’t do it again.”

This kid is killing me, one sweet sentiment at a time. “Trust me,” I tell him, my voice hoarse with emotion. “You’re looking at somebody who spent his life learning lessons the hard way. I also owe you an apology.” I rub a hand across the back of my neck. “All of you. What happened today… Luke, no one should ever lay a hand on you the way my father did, and I hate that he was here because of me.”

Molly, who’s sitting on the side of the bed, reaches for my hand, but I shift away. I’m afraid I won’t be able to get the words I need to say out with her touching me.

“I’m sorrier than you’ll ever know that I reacted the way I did. My father was wrong, but I was also wrong to hit him. Physical violence doesn’t solve problems. I want you to know you’re safe with me. You don’t have anything?—”

“We know,” Laurel says matter-of-factly. “You saved Luke from the storm.”

“You were defending me,” Luke agrees then adds in a softer tone, “I don’t like your dad.”

“Me neither,” Laurel says.

“That makes three of us.” Molly’s eyes are gentle when I meet her gaze. “Thank you for the apology, Chase, and for rescuing Luke.”

“And Gumdrop,” Luke adds, then lets out a wide yawn. Laurel follows suit.

Molly stands and hands me a book, careful not to touch me this time. And even though it’s what I needed a few seconds ago, now I want to howl in protest. Instead, I sit down, flip the book open, and startreading.

Molly slips out of the room and returns a few minutes later in pink polka-dot pajama pants and a faded flannel shirt.

“Okay, lights out,” she says, and neither of the kids protests. “Are you going to sleep in here, Lukey?”

“Yeah, he is,” Laurel answers as he nods.

“Okay, but I want you asleep, not talking all night.”

“Alright, Mommy,” Laurel answers. “Love you.”

Luke snuggles closer to his sister. “Love you, Mommy,”

“Love you, babies.”

I follow her out of the room, and we don’t speak until we’re downstairs.

“Your kids are too forgiving,” I say with a shake of my head. “But you shouldn’t be. What you saw in me today isn’t the man I want to be. I haven’t been that angry for a long time. But my dad...”

She reaches for my hand, and this time I don’t pull away.

“I wanted you to hurt him because he hurt Luke. I’m not proud of that, but one moment doesn’t define either of us.”

I don’t know that I agree. Because every single moment with her has molded me into someone new. A person I desperately want to be, even though I’m not sure how to go about it.

I kiss the top of her head. “How are you real?” I ask against her hair. “You’re too good. Like I dreamed you up just to feel like a better man than I know myself to be.”

“Then be the man I believe you are,” she says.

I don’t mean to kiss her. I don’t plan on kissing her. We both have too many emotions swirling inside us to work them out physically. Then she sways closer, I lean down, and our lips meet, soft and desperate.

She tastes like sunshine and rainbows after a storm, and I catch her soft moan in my mouth, wanting to hold on to it. Wanting to be the only man who ever pulls that sound from her.

Molly makes me want in a way I never have.