Writing Mr. Right

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Writing Mr. Right Page 32

by T. K. Leigh


  “You got it, Coach.”

  Drew grabbed my hand and led me into the stands. I had no idea how he walked with skates on, but it didn’t even faze him. Once we were settled, he glanced at me. “Did anyone ever tell you about Mom’s family?”

  I pinched my lips together. “Not really. Just that they were pretty religious, which was why Dad married her when she got pregnant.”

  “That’s certainly true, but it’s only part of the story.” He paused, staring into the distance, then turned back to me. “Her father was an officer in the Marines. Served in Vietnam. He ran his family the way he ran his unit…with order, discipline, and from what I’ve been able to find out, sometimes an iron fist. The things he’d witnessed in Vietnam changed him. When he came home, he wasn’t the same man he was when he left. He was beaten down. And he ended up beating his family down, too.” He gave me a telling look.

  My eyes widened at the hidden inference.

  “His wife, who was once full of life and love, became a woman too scared to open her mouth.”

  “How did you find this out?”

  “On a whim, I Googled her one day. I found some old articles from around the time I was born. There was a big story here in Boston…a woman shot and killed her husband, a Vietnam vet. Her name was Molly Micelli.”

  I stared blankly ahead. “She named me after her mother.”

  “According to various reports, after she shot him, she called 911 to report it, then went about cleaning the house.”

  I wrinkled my forehead, not understanding.

  “The officers reported that when they asked why, she responded she knew company was coming and her husband would be upset with her if anyone saw the house in the supposed disastrous state it was in. It didn’t matter that her husband was lying in a pool of blood in the bathtub. The police reported the house was almost immaculate, museum-like, but she didn’t see it that way.

  “After investigating further, they found so much evidence of psychological abuse, she was never charged with his murder. No jury would have convicted her based on everything she and her kids had endured. Imagine how you’d feel if you grew up in a house where it was more important your bed was made each morning to a precise standard than it was that you get into a good college. This family lived this way for years. No wonder mom never really cared about any of us. She’d never known how it felt to be loved.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

  “I guess I wanted to protect you from finding out the truth.”

  “Like with the slippers?” I shot him a sideways glance.

  “You figured it out?”

  I nodded slowly. “When I asked Mom why she wasn’t at Dad’s funeral, she gave me the same speech she apparently gave you. That she’d rather forget about that chapter of her life. So I asked why she’d send me slippers every year when all she wanted to do was forget about Dad, you…” I swallowed hard, “and me.” I met Drew’s eyes. “That’s when she told me she didn’t send the slippers and it was probably you.”

  “It was both me and Dad. Apparently, when you were a baby, your feet were always cold,” he reminisced, a twinkle in his eye. “But you hated socks. According to the story Dad told me, when your first birthday rolled around, he asked what I wanted to give you, so I said a pair of slippers. As the years went on, you thought they were from Mom for some reason. When Dad and I saw how happy you were at the thought that Mom still cared about you, we didn’t have it in our hearts to tell you otherwise. We thought we’d be able to stop as you got older. When you turned sixteen, Dad did stop.” He paused, shaking his head. “That night, I heard you crying in your room. The next day, I went out, got a pair of slippers, and sent them to our house, making it appear like Mom sent them. I’ve been doing it ever since.”

  I wiped away the tear falling down my cheek. “I don’t deserve a brother like you, Drew.”

  “Yes, you do.” He draped his arm over my shoulders, and I rested my head against his chest.

  “No, I don’t. I’m a horrible person. Mom said I turned out just like she did. I can’t help but think there’s some truth to that. I walked away from what was probably the best thing to ever happen to me. And why?” I shook my head, unable to recall how everything in my life had come unglued so quickly.

  “We all do things we’re not proud of when we’re upset, when we’re grieving. Believe me, you are nothing like that woman who gave birth to us. You’re kind. You’re caring. I see how you are with Alyssa and Charlotte. You’re beautiful on the inside and out. Don’t let anything Mom may have said to you make you think otherwise. She doesn’t know you, not like I do…like Noah does.”

  Pulling away from his chest, I stared at the ice, releasing a heavy sigh. Being here with Drew brought back so many memories from our childhood when I would spend hours at the rink during his practice, reading book after book. Afterwards, Dad would take us to a neighborhood diner where we ordered the biggest plate of cheese fries they had. I wished I had appreciated those moments more.

  “So what are you going to do?” he asked, breaking the silence.

  I shrugged. “Beg for forgiveness?”

  “Sounds like a good plan.” He offered me a small smile, then stood up. He held his hand toward me and I grabbed it, allowing him to help me to my feet. As we approached the ice, he placed a soft kiss on my forehead, then put his helmet back on. “Just promise me one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Be honest. No more games. No more lies.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Good. I’ll be around later if you need to talk. The girls want to show you their new bedrooms one of these days, too.”

  “Sounds good, Drew. Thank you.”

  “Anytime, Molly Mae.” He began to skate away.

  “Hey, Drew!” I called out. He stopped, glancing back at me. “This suits you. You belong on the ice.”

  He grinned. “Thanks, Mols.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  I FIDGETED WITH THE skirt of my dress as I walked up the paved path and under the archway of Forest Hills Cemetery. The early autumn sun had almost disappeared beyond the horizon, but still cast a beautiful glow over the landscape. As I crested the hill, I almost laughed when I saw the movie they were showing tonight…The Apartment. It was a story about a man forced by the upper executives at his office to allow them to use his apartment so they could go on with their illicit affairs. It took forbidden romance to a completely different level.

  After I left Drew, I knew exactly what I needed to do. I needed to finally talk to Noah. It was Thursday night, so I had a feeling he’d be in the exact same place he was every Thursday night.

  Approaching the roped off area where everyone had set up their blankets, I scanned the crowd. Noah must have sensed my presence. Just like that first night all those months ago, his eyes shot straight to me, making my breath hitch. I considered the possibility he’d ignore me, but he wasn’t the type to run when things got tough. He faced his problems head-on, something I vowed to start doing.

  His expression not giving anything away, he raised himself to his feet and slowly made his way toward me. “Molly,” he said in an even tone. “What are you doing here?” He glanced back to his blanket on the grass.

  “I…” I stared at his windswept dark hair, the intensity in his eyes, the fullness of his lips. He looked so good. So handsome. So beautiful. So perfect. Why did I ever allow myself to run from him?

  “You?” He lifted a brow, crossing his arms over his chest.

  Looking down, I shuffled my feet, chewing on the inside of my cheek. I returned my eyes to his, everything I planned to say flying out the proverbial window. Instead, I did something I’d rarely done, if ever. I spoke from my heart.

  “I saw my future today,” I admitted in a soft voice. “And it had leather skin from too much sun, smoked way too many cigarettes, and wore vastly age-inappropriate clothes.”

  Noah wrinkled his brow
. His expression was a mixture of amusement and confusion. “I’m not sure I follow.”

  “I’m not sure I do, either.” I laughed nervously. My thoughts a scrambled mess, I paced the grass, clenching and unclenching my fists. “My mother’s almost sixty, but still acts like she’s twenty.”

  “You went to see your mother?” His eyes widened in surprise and a touch of concern.

  “I was so tired of thinking no one supported me. In retrospect, it was probably one of the worst decisions of my life. This is a woman who lives less than two hours away, yet never made the effort to try and be part of my life.” I stopped pacing, then stepped toward Noah. “I don’t know what I expected. I guess I hoped to see that she had a good life, that her decision to leave my father and her family was the right one for her.” I shook my head, looking away.

  “And was it?”

  “She’ll never admit it, but she’s so lonely, she’ll throw herself at any guy who will look at her. She’s a complete joke. I don’t want to turn into her.” I peered at him through apologetic eyes. “I don’t want to run away from love anymore.”

  “But I thought love didn’t exist.” The pain I’d caused was still visible on every inch of him. “Do you still believe that?”

  I inhaled a long breath, deciding to answer honestly for once. “All my life, I’d held onto that belief very firmly, that there was no such thing as true love, that what everyone else considered to be love was nothing more than an illusion, the result of hormones. For me, real love wasn’t real life.”

  Noah’s shoulders fell.

  I reached out and brushed my hand against his arm. He met my eyes, a glimmer of hope in his gaze. “But I think it can be, if you’ll just give me another chance.”

  He stared at me for several excruciatingly drawn-out moments as my heart remained completely exposed and laid bare for him to destroy or repair. He held all the power.

  “Molly,” he finally said with a sigh, stepping back. “I want to believe you, but how can I? When I look at you, I don’t see a woman in love. I see a girl so scared of being alone, she’s willing to do anything to make sure she’s not.” He shook his head. “I’m not interested in being with someone just for convenience, just because they saw what their future held and didn’t like it. I want to be with someone who wants to be with me, who won’t run when things get tough, who has no problem telling me she loves me.”

  I opened my mouth, searching for the words I needed. I’d made a living off of always knowing what to say and when to say it, but when it came to my own life, I had permanent writer’s block. Noah always had a way of making me completely speechless, but I knew this was my one and only chance to convince him I was no longer that girl who pushed him away to protect her heart.

  “I took a fall and found out I could bleed,” I confessed. “I should have told you how I felt when you said you loved me, but I didn’t. You’re right. I was terrified. My mother walked out on my father when I was four. Drew’s ex walked out on him when Alyssa was two. They say things happen in threes. I was so worried it would happen to me, I did everything I could to make sure I’d never be in that position.” I inched toward him, desperate to feel the heat of his body, to inhale his musky scent, to be in his universe.

  “For the past few weeks, every time I’ve closed my eyes, I see yours staring back at me. I’ve missed everything about you…from the way you hold me when I go to sleep, to the way you kiss my head first thing in the morning. I miss the way you always held my hand in public, the way you brushed my hair out of my face so you could see into my eyes, the way you would kiss me in the middle of a crowded elevator for no reason at all.” A lone tear trickled down my cheek as all the wonderful memories I’d shared with Noah rushed forward. “The way you made me feel more cherished and valued than I probably deserved. The way we danced when the only music was in our hearts.” I swallowed through the lump in my throat. “I refused to admit it to myself because I was so fucking scared, but the truth is that I am completely and utterly in lo—”

  “Noah?” A tall blonde wearing a flowing white top and dark jeans approached, placing her hand on his shoulder.

  My jaw dropped, my eyes blinking repeatedly. Struggling to recover, I plastered a fake smile on my face, my heart breaking into tiny little pieces as I realized he’d already moved on, that everything I’d just confessed had been for nothing.

  I spun on my heels, my face burning with embarrassment as I ran down the walkway toward the parking lot. I reached into my purse, fumbling for my keys. My eyes welled up with tears and I swallowed through the throbbing in my chest. I wanted to scream and cry at the notion that this was too little, too late. Regret filled my heart, making it ache. I should have told Noah how I felt weeks ago. The minute he said he loved me, I should have returned the sentiment with enthusiasm. Instead, I shrank away and allowed my own fears to consume me.

  Fear cost me the one man I knew I could spend the rest of my life with.

  “Molly,” Noah called out as I continued searching for my keys.

  “What?” I whirled around, frustrated that my escape had been foiled by my bottomless pit of a purse.

  Before I could react, his lips were on mine, taking the breath from me. I stiffened, confused, aroused, and a hundred different other emotions my brain couldn’t adequately describe at the moment. His fingers tangled in my hair, his grip tight, like he never wanted to let me go. I had no idea what was happening, why he was kissing me just a few feet away from another woman, but at that moment, that didn’t matter. If this was the last time I’d ever kiss Noah, I wanted to remember every sweep of his tongue, every brush of his hand, every beat of his heart against mine.

  With incredible ease, he slowly pulled his mouth away, licking his lips. I stared at him, bewildered.

  “Wha—”

  “Tell me,” he said, his chest heaving.

  “Tell you what?” I asked.

  He swallowed hard, his gaze fierce. “Tell me what you were about to say.”

  I tensed, pulling my lower lip between my teeth. This was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do. Most people I knew gave their love freely with no reservations. Not me. I kept my heart guarded, always on the lookout for someone who would use my love against me.

  “Please.” He brushed his lips against mine again before meeting my gaze. “Please, Molly. Say it.”

  “I love you,” I whimpered in a small voice.

  Relief washed over his face and he brought me back into his arms, covering my mouth with his. His kiss was soft, reverent…loving.

  “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  “It was easier than I thought it would be,” I admitted, then tilted my head up. “Everything’s easier with you.”

  He leaned toward me. “And everything’s easier with you, Molly Mae.” He cupped my cheeks, locking me in place. I wouldn’t run even if I could. I was exactly where I wanted to be. “You may have used me as inspiration for your book…”

  I swallowed hard as he ran his thumb across my lips.

  “But you inspire me.” His mouth found mine again and I lost myself in him, not caring that we were making out in a cemetery where hundreds of people could see us. Not caring that the blonde bimbo he’d probably been sleeping with watched us. Not caring about anything but the love I had for this man.

  “What the hell is going on here?” a female voice hissed. We both jumped away from each other, whirling around.

  “Morgan…,” Noah began. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “This is Molly.”

  She placed her hands on her hips, eyeing me up and down.

  “Molly?” She approached me. Before I knew what was happening, she wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tight. “Noah has told me so much about you!”

  My eyes widened, confused. She stepped back, keeping her hands on my shoulders. “Are you joining us for the movie? Noah didn’t mention it, but he’s been a bit…distracted lately. We brought dinner with us. We’ve got enough for y
ou, too, if you’d like.”

  I looked from her to Noah, wanting one of them to explain what was going on.

  “Morgan is my sister.” He smirked. “She and her husband just relocated here from New York.”

  “Noah’s been telling me about cemetery movie night for years now. I had to see what it was for myself. I have to say, I’m hooked.” She winked, then paused, eyeing both of us. “I’ll give you two love birds a few minutes.” She spun around and dashed back up the pathway toward the large projection screen. “But John said to hurry up or he’s going to eat all the food!” she called out before disappearing back into the crowd.

  “So…” I began as I turned to Noah. “She’s not your girlfriend.”

  Grinning, he shook his head. “Definitely not. But I’m a little scared you seem to always assume I’m dating my sisters.”

  I laughed. “You’re not seeing anyone?”

  His grin grew bigger as he shook his head again. “How could I possibly date someone when I’m in love with another woman?”

  “Even after everything I said to you?”

  He wrapped his arms around me, nodding. “That’s what real love is. It’s knowing the other person is completely full of shit, but letting them figure it out on their own.” He winked. “That’s why I let you have your space these past few weeks. It was the hardest thing for me to do, but I knew if I had any shot with you, you needed to have this time to yourself.”

  “So all that stuff you said before about not knowing whether you could ever believe me?” I tilted my head, my eyes locked with his.

  He shrugged, a twinkle in his gaze. “I just wanted to finally hear that four-letter word come out of your mouth.” He let out a satisfied breath. “And it was more beautiful than I could have imagined.”

  The sincerity of his voice turned my legs into jelly. I didn’t think people swooned in real life. I was so wrong because this man just made me swoon…and I swooned so damn hard.

  He placed a soft kiss on my lips, then grabbed my hand, leading me back up the path. “Since we’re overcoming our fears…” He looked at me, a mischievous smile on his face. “How about you say that other word, too?”

 

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