Chapter 19
Harry
I’ve had an intense day. Are you able to talk?
Molly, I really want to hear from you.
The vote is next week. I wish you were here. Even if you don’t go to the announcement party, it would be good to have you close to me.
Could you please answer me? Or email me? Or something?
I’d been texting her for nearly a week, but all I received were short replies about how busy she was. The near-silence worried me more than her usual essay-length messages where she outlined the pros and cons of our relationship.
The warmth and closeness that had carried me for days after our late-night session was thoroughly extinguished, and I wanted to connect to her again.
So I was trying a different tactic. Sexting was the only point since she left where it felt like we were having a proper conversation. Though the words exchanged revolved around pleasure rather than our actual relationship, it was enough to give me hope.
I really want to fuck my hand while thinking of you. Are you there?
I sent that when I left the office an hour ago, occasionally checking my phone just to make sure it went through. But she’d received it, and read it, and was choosing not to reply.
Throwing my phone onto the cushion beside me, I got a reproachful look.
Mr Snuggles and I had been slouching on the sofa for at least half an hour, and he was not impressed.
I didn’t want to move, lest I wake the hellbeast. Which gave my busy mind space to fly through all the reasons Molly might not have messaged me as our ginger fluffball purred away on my cushy stomach.
I’d sent texts to her sister and parents, and her friends, but there were no replies—and I had no idea why. Just nothing. It was like she had sent out a blanket memo and made sure that anyone attending the wedding ghosted me.
My phone went off beside me, and I moved too quickly, earning myself twenty claws in the chest and a reproachful look before my cat finally let go and hit the floor, shooting off with a hiss.
I sighed heavily, hoping it was my fiancée. It could be my assistant, or Dom, or my sisters, or even Mum if I was lucky.
But I lifted the screen in time to see a message disappearing with her name at the top.
I didn’t even notice the tight hunch of my shoulders and the hard grit of my jaw until I eased into a relieved smile.
I swiped the screen and clicked on the text, praying for news.
What are you doing?
I had hoped for something more but after so many days without real contact, I had to be satisfied with what she gave me.
Trying to relax. It’s been a long day. I had another meeting with the Board, but I still can’t tell which way they’ll go.
I ran my hand through my hair as I sighed. I just wanted to unload all my stress on her, but I didn't know what mood she was in.
How are you? I’ve missed you.
I’ve been thinking about you all day.
I couldn’t stem the quick pierce of annoyance. I wanted her to answer me properly.
Talking about my work was a chore for her, but she could be polite about it, at least.
I tended to live vicariously through her.
I adored working at the hospital, but The Foundation helped fuel my sense of responsibility to my family.
My grandmother’s legacy would never be continued if it was left in Mum's hands, but I still missed my old job.
So I enjoyed listening to stories about her day, but she was rarely interested in mine.
I tried again.
How have you been? How’s your family? Are you all alright up there?
Another beat passed before the phone pinged.
I was wondering if you were thinking about what we did last week?
My annoyance couldn’t quiet the wave of heat that flowed through me. I’d stroked myself every night rereading the texts, desperately clinging to our connection, so confused about why she went cold after that.
Yes, I wanted to talk about it.
And talk about why sexting was somehow more important to her than just telling me how she was.
You wanted to talk? Or you wanted to play with me again?
I paused, my thumbs on the screen. I was confused about why I felt embarrassed to tell Molly the truth, even though she’d known me for years. I cleared my throat, weighing up the options. It didn’t matter how much I hesitated, I already knew the answer.
I wanted to do it again.
That’s what I was hoping. Especially if you need to relax.
I still don’t understand why you haven’t brought up wanting to do this before?
It’s easier this way.
My brow furrowed at her cryptic reply. Maybe this was the space she had been talking about, the freedom she needed to release the resentment that had built up between us over the years getting in the way.
What is that supposed to mean?
There was a tense minute where I clutched the phone, staring at it intensely, willing it to ping with a message.
It means that I want you to spread those legs and fuck yourself with your fingers again until you come.
Glaring at my phone, I gritted my teeth as I sifted through the different strands of emotion binding me.
I had too much happening in my life, and that was her complaint. But it was something I could give her that didn’t weigh me down, and I enjoyed, too.
I sighed deeply as I rose. I was sacrificing something within me by letting it go, letting her get away with hiding from me while I gave her what she wanted. But she held the power. If she didn’t want to speak to me, she could simply stop, and that would be it.
I switched the speech-to-text on again and asked.
Where do you want me?
As I smoothed down my jumper my fingers caught the threads that had come loose from Mr Snuggles’s claws, and I wondered what would become of me if Molly and I continued without talking about what really mattered.