She couldn’t help but laugh.
Chapter 19
“I’M SO GLAD we have some time together,” Emma said as they strolled through the mall.
“Me, too.” Molly had invited Emma to go shopping with her tonight so they could have some sister time. She’d been so wrapped up with Mom and Carter, and with Emma being off on her honeymoon that she hadn’t spent enough time with her sister. The only way to do that was to force the time together.
There was a football game on, so Luke brought the dogs over, and he and Molly’s dad were spending the evening together watching football—one of Mom’s favorite sports—and having pizza, keeping their mother company.
Mom said she was sad not to be able to go shopping with her and Emma, since shopping was another of Mom’s favorite sports.
“Maybe we should pick up something for Mom while we’re out,” Emma said. “Maybe a new pair of pajamas?”
“I like that idea.” She linked her arm with Emma’s and they headed to one of the stores, bickering with each other over which pair of pajamas their mother would like best. They finally settled on a cute lime green set they both agreed Mom would love. Emma bought a pair of cognac-colored boots, and when they passed the lingerie store, Molly paused at the window as something caught her eye.
“Really?” Emma asked, cocking a brow. “That’s uh . . . wow, Molls.”
“I know, ridiculous, right? I shouldn’t.” She started to walk away, but Emma grabbed her arm.
“Oh, I think you should, as long as you tell me all about you and Carter.”
“How do you know I want that outfit for a guy? And why would you think it was Carter?”
Emma laughed. “Honey, no woman buys a getup like that just for herself. That’s an outfit a man takes off of you. And as far as it being Carter? Please. I’m not blind.”
Leave it to her sister to read signals like they were a flashing beacon. “Okay, you’re right.”
Emma stood there, arms crossed. “So? Are we getting the outfit?”
“We are not getting the outfit. I’m pondering the ridiculousness of why I’m even considering it.”
“Why is it ridiculous? It’s sexy. He’ll go crazy seeing you in it.”
“We’re not even dating.”
“Dating is an antiquated word, at least according to Chelsea. And besides, you stopped at the window, and you thought about Carter when you saw the outfit, didn’t you?”
She had thought about Carter, about wearing that outfit for him, surprising him. She’d surprised herself, too. But things between the two of them were . . .
What? She didn’t know what they were. They had gotten through the uneasiness, had developed a sort of friendship . . . with benefits. She knew she wasn’t staying in Hope, but she liked having sex with him. Things could have been complicated, but so far, they weren’t. She knew Carter, better than any man she’d ever known.
So why not continue the fun?
“Okay. I’ll try it on.”
“Great. Let’s do that.”
She ended up buying the outfit, and then it was off to dinner at the Cheesecake Factory, where she ordered a magnificent plate of pasta.
“So tell me about you and Carter,” Emma said as she dug into her fish. “I know you two dated in high school, then it was just . . . over, I guess?”
“I don’t know, Em. It’s a difficult situation with him.”
“What do you mean by difficult?”
Molly looked around. It wasn’t crowded tonight, and only a server or two hustled by now and then. She hadn’t wanted to have this conversation with her sister in public, but she didn’t want to have it at her parents’ house, either, so she supposed now was as good a time as any to just tell her.
“I got pregnant.”
Emma laid her fork down on the plate. “What? When?”
“Senior year.”
“Oh my God, Molly. Why didn’t you tell me? Do Mom and Dad know?”
She shook her head. “It all happened so fast. Carter and I were stunned. We were careful, you know. Or at least we thought we were being careful, but I guess not careful enough. So when it happened, we weren’t prepared. We started to make plans for the baby—for the future. Carter was going to delay college. I’d have the baby. We were going to get married. We were figuring things out for our future, you know? Then a week later, I miscarried.”
“Oh, honey.” Emma reached across the table and squeezed Molly’s hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“Me, too. I was devastated. It might have been unplanned, and we were so young, but God, Em, I wanted that baby so much.”
“I can’t even imagine how awful that must have been for you.”
“It was a bad time. The worst time. To compound things, Carter seemed to retreat from me. He almost seemed . . . relieved.”
“No.”
“Yes. He said he knew I was upset about the baby, and he was, too, but since the miscarriage happened, things could go on the way we had originally planned. He’d go to college, I’d go to college, and we’d have the future we had always wanted together.”
“Oh.” Emma pursed her lips. “That was so insensitive of him.”
“Yeah. I didn’t handle it well. I accused him of not wanting our baby, of not wanting me. I was so hurt. He was hurt. I don’t know. I was an emotional wreck, and we ended things badly.”
Emma studied her for a few seconds. “That’s when you left Hope.”
“Yes.”
“Molly, why didn’t you talk to me? Or Mom.”
She studied her plate. “I don’t know, Em. I was so full of pain and anguish and anger at the time. I bottled it all up inside and just ran like hell. The only thing that made me feel better was getting away.”
She lifted her gaze to her sister’s. “I spent three years madly in love with a boy who wasn’t what I thought he was. And in an instant, everything changed for me. I had to figure out who I was without Carter. Without my family, and without Hope. I had to become my own person. I might not have done it the right way, but I did it the best way I could.”
Emma took a long swallow of her tea, then set it down. “I don’t think anyone can tell you what’s the right way. You had a deep emotional trauma. Something—and someone—hurt you, Molly. I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could share that with me, or with Mom and Dad, but I understand you dealt with it in a way that made sense to you. I know how that is, how you have to figure out who you are without anyone else’s help. I just wished I could have been there for you.”