Although he’d buried his own pain, now even thinking about what happened hurt. He’d been stupid to think they needed to dredge it all up again.
For what reason? To relive that pain again?
It was best to leave the past alone. Molly had run from it, and he’d done his best to forget it. They obviously both had coping mechanisms that worked, and the sooner they were hundreds of miles away from each other, the better.
He finally got out of the car and locked it, then headed back toward the ballroom, intending to stay far away from Molly. But this was Luke’s night, and he was going to celebrate it and leave his relationship with Molly out of it.
Taking a deep breath, he put on a smile and opened the door.
Chapter 7
MOLLY HAD STAYED the night at Luke and Emma’s watching the dogs, because the newlyweds spent the night at a penthouse suite at one of Tulsa’s premiere hotels. She’d gotten up early this morning and driven over to her parents’ house so she could help her mom decorate for the brunch. Everything with her mother had to be thematic, and in this case, it was going to be a Hawaiian bon-voyage-slash-luau theme to reflect Emma and Luke’s upcoming island honeymoon.
She’d spent the early morning hours drinking copious amounts of coffee to compensate for the lack of sleep she’d endured last night after her embarrassing meltdown with Carter. She’d gone back inside and dashed into the ladies room, repaired her makeup, and put on her brightest smile, because that night had not been all about her and she wasn’t going to bring her drama to her sister’s wedding. She’d danced and partied with the women, losing herself in the music and the fun, pushing the pain into the furthest recesses of her mind.
But after the festivities she’d climbed into her sister’s guest bed and promptly spent the next three hours staring up at the ceiling.
Which meant today she was exhausted, grumpy and generally out of sorts. The complete opposite of her mother, who was filled with energy and enthusiasm, and cheerful as hell.
“Molly, help me hang these lights, will you?” her mom asked.
Lights? Why the hell did they need lights? “Uh, where’s Dad?”
“He already hung the lights over the fireplace, but I want some in the kitchen. And your father went to pick up the food.”
Oh, sure. He got the easy task. “Okay.”
They strung lights and paper lanterns and blew up hideous plastic palm trees. There was Hawaiian music playing, posters of the islands placed around the house, and coconuts on all the tables. There hadn’t been time for her mom to cook, otherwise Molly might be elbows deep in some kind of tropical coconut concoction, so she’d been spared that much, at least.
“There,” her mom finally said, climbing down from the ladder where she’d hung an Aloha banner along the mantle. “That’s festive, isn’t it?”
It looked like Hawaii had exploded inside her parents’ house. “You bet.”
All Molly wanted to do was go lie down in one of the bedrooms and pass out. Especially knowing the wedding party would be partaking of the brunch today, which meant she’d have to face Carter.
But she’d get through it, knowing it would be the last time. After today, she’d be on the road, out of town, and back where she belonged, which was anywhere but Hope—her motto for the past twelve years.
She was already counting down the hours.
When the door opened and her dad came in juggling a box filled with food, her mother hurried over to help and Molly followed. Soon after, people started filing in and she was too busy greeting people to even think.
When Luke and Emma showed up, she hugged her sister.
“How does it feel to be married?” she asked.
Emma grinned. “Not all that different, surprisingly. Yet somehow . . . fairly awesome.”
“I’m really happy for you and Luke. I know we didn’t get a lot of time together yesterday, but I want you to know that I believe in the two of you. I know you’re going to make it work.”
Emma gave her a curious look. “Well, of course we are. We love each other.”
She didn’t know why she’d said that. Maybe because she thought couples making it work was all too rare. Or maybe she was simply projecting. She squeezed Emma’s hands. “That’s right. You do. And it shows.”
Carter came in, and Molly excused herself, went to grab her purse, and fished out his keys. “I brought your car back.”
He took the keys. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“No problem.”
“Do you need a ride back to Emma’s place?”
“No. I’ll be staying here at my mom and dad’s tonight, then leaving tomorrow. My car’s already here.” She was having trouble making eye contact with him. Things had been awkward between them before, but now it was simply brutal.
“Okay, then. Well, good luck, Molly. And drive safe.”
“Yeah, thanks.” She turned and walked away, needing distance. She felt so much being close to him—and not all of it was bad.
That was the problem, wasn’t it? She still felt things for him. And she hated that she did. He’d probably moved on the instant she’d lost their baby, and here she was still feeling some ridiculous connection to him.
She intended to sever that connection, once and for all, starting tomorrow.
She was going to move on with her life and forget that Carter Richards had ever existed.
Everyone sat down to eat. The food was really good, surprisingly.