Chapter 28
After repairing her minimal, tear-ravaged makeup as much as possible in the high school bathroom, Molly had headed back toward
the reunion with Lise at her side. Only to find her ex-husband in the hallway outside the event, scrutinizing its participants
through the open gym door. Searching for her, she presumed.
Stunned, she abruptly halted. Stared uncomprehendingly.
Why wasn’t Rob in California? And even if he’d followed her to Harlot’s Bay for some unknown, utterly bizarre reason, how
the hell could he have possibly known she was here, at the school?
“Lise . . .” Had all the drama of the evening caused hallucinations? “You see the tall blond guy in the boring gray suit,
right? I’m not just imagining him? Or having a nightmare?”
Stumbling to a stop alongside her, Lise looked around. “Yeah, I see him. But . . . Molly, who—”
At the sound of his ex-wife’s name, he swung around. Spotted her.
“Molly. There you are.” With a charming smile and a smooth stride, he approached her. “I was beginning to think you’d left
already, and I’d have to drive to the . . .” His brow crinkled attractively, and he checked the note-taking app on his phone.
“The local . . . Spite House? Is that correct?”
Because politeness had been drummed into Molly’s core being since she was a child, she turned to her companion. “Lise, this
is my ex-husband, Rob Brandt. Rob, please meet Lise Utendorf.”
Molly’s best friend didn’t say a word. Just stared at him stonily, arms folded across her substantial chest.
“Lise . . .” He thought for a minute. “Oh, right. She’s the one who wri—”
“Do not finish that sentence,” Molly warned. “Rob, why are you here? And how on earth did you even find me?”
A flash bulb went off at close range, and she screwed her eyes shut for a moment.
“Because of . . . that woman, I believe,” Rob said, his voice amused.
Once Molly could see past the sparkling dots in her vision, she followed Rob’s pointing finger to . . . Sylvia, whose huge
camera hung on a strap around her neck. The older woman waved, then took another photo.
“I don’t understand.” Which was the understatement of the century, as far as Molly was concerned. “What does Sylvia have to
do with anything?”
Rob looked pleased with himself. “When I asked people in town where you might be, someone said he knew you were here, because
he follows the local newspaper’s Instagram account.”
“Some dude in Harlot’s Bay needs to mind his own freaking business,” Lise muttered. “Or at least keep his damn mouth shut.”
Molly waved that off, too tired to care. “Fine. That’s how you found me. But why are you here?”
“I could ask the same question.” A graceful flick of his fingers smoothed his rumpled hair. “Molly, why in the world have
you stayed an entire month in the middle of nowhere?”
At that, Sylvia stopped taking photos and started glowering at him.
“This is so unlike you.” Rob peered closely at her, as if looking for evidence of trauma, or maybe a mental break of some sort. “You’ve lived in a dozen places, and we both know you never cared much about the people you left behind. So why come back here?”
He made her sound utterly heartless, but . . . at a certain point, once she’d moved often enough, she’d gotten so freaking
tired of making connections, then having them ripped away without warning. So, yes, she’d stopped getting attached.
Harlot’s Bay had always been her one exception, though. Not that she’d ever told Rob. Something inside her hadn’t trusted
him with that bit of her heart, and she’d kept it to herself.
Just another sign that Karl and Lise were right: Her instincts were fine. She simply hadn’t listened to them. But now was
a great time to start, and those instincts were clear on one thing: Her past was none of Rob’s business, and she shouldn’t
let him goad her into discussing it.
She kept her voice even. “I repeat: Why are you here?”
“Let’s go somewhere quieter to talk.” Rob side-eyed the growing crowd of people either discreetly or openly staring at the
three of them. “I know how you value your privacy.”
Something about that confident, knowing statement sparked her temper.
“Sure. You care so much about my privacy and my preferences. Which is why, after I blocked your number, you chose to track me down in a high school
gym during a reunion.” Molly shook her head, face heating in anger. “That’s borderline stalker behavior, Rob. I’m not going
anywhere with you. Especially since I haven’t heard from my lawyer, which means you and I have nothing important to discuss.”
He actually laughed. Laughed.
“I’m not stalking you, Molly. I was simply in the area because of a conference in DC this weekend, and Alexis said the workers must finally be done with our .
. .” He paused. “With your house, because all their tools and supplies are gone. So I figured now was the perfect time to chat about the next steps.”
Too incensed to pay much attention, Molly let Lise nudge her toward the nearest wall, so they weren’t blocking traffic out
of the gym as their former classmates either called it quits for the night or gathered to watch the show.
“So you’re not stalking me, but you’re here in Harlot’s Bay without my invitation, and your wife has driven past my house
to check on the status of my renovations?” Multiple times, it sounded like. Aggravated and incredulous, she threw her hands
in the air. “There are no next steps, Rob. It’s none of your concern whether my renovations are done or not. My home is not for sale. And even if it were—”
“I’d make a better offer than before. I heard what you said during our last conversation, and I want to respect your position.
You’re smart to hold out for more.” Rob smiled at her. “Alexis and I talked about it, and we’re willing to go as high as . . .”
He named a genuinely generous price, and it only infuriated her more. Why the hell was he acting like she’d balked at his
specific offer, rather than the entire idea of selling her home? Why, after all this time, wasn’t the word no getting through to him?
He didn’t respect her position. He didn’t respect her. Not even a little.
What she was witnessing outside her high school gymnasium was evidently his main takeaway from their relationship: total confidence
that he could bend her to his will if he refused to listen, wore her down, and convinced her that his position was the only
just and rational one.
For far too long, his confidence had been well founded. During their marriage, she’d striven to make reasonable decisions, according to his definition of the term. She’d spent nearly two decades questioning her feelings, ignoring her
instincts, because she wanted to be fair—to him and in general.
That period of her life was over now. From this point on, she intended to care less about what was rational and more about
being true to herself. He needed to understand that.
Maybe once he did, he’d give up and leave her the fuck alone, at long last.
“Let me put this as clearly as possible.” She articulated each word crisply, in distinct syllables, like a linguist reading
the dictionary aloud. “My home is not for sale. Even if it were, I would not sell it to you.”
It was the first time she’d admitted as much, even to herself, because she’d known her disinclination was pure pettiness.
She no longer minded being petty, though, so her ex-husband was about to finally discover one of life’s great truths.
Finding out was much less fun than fucking around.
“Wow. Molly.” His slow headshake radiated disapproval. “I never thought you’d take advantage of our relationship to squeeze
even more money out of me, but I suppose I could go . . .” His lips pursed as he thought for a moment. “I could go ten percent above
the price I just quoted you.”
Was he . . . was he haggling with her?
Fucking hell, was he even listening to her? To himself?
“Holy crap, dude.” Lise glowered at him. “Do you have a head injury? Too much ear wax? A curse on your bloodline that doesn’t
allow you to hear anything you find inconvenient? Because something is clearly stopping you from getting the point.”
Any remaining semblance of civility shredded by his condescension and obstinate refusal to understand her position, Molly planted her feet on the tile floor and her fists on her hips, and she made absolutely freaking sure he heard her this time, with no confusion possible.
“You could offer me ten times the house’s value. A thousand times. It wouldn’t matter, because after everything you’ve said and done to me, I. Will. Never. Sell. It. To. You. I’d rather burn it to the damn ground than let you have it.” She bared her teeth at him, in what might
technically be considered a smile. “And don’t bother looking shocked and disappointed that I’d refuse a tidy profit. We both
know that between the two of us, you’re the one who cares about his money more than his heart.”
His face creased in a wince when she raised her voice, and he aimed a speaking glance at their surroundings. He’d always hated
loud confrontations, especially in public. Considered them common. And sure enough—
“Pipe down, you two,” he hissed, leaning closer. “There’s no need to make this some kind of juvenile confrontation. Even though
you’re . . .” He shook his head again, as if in helpless disbelief. “You’re refusing to sell me your home out of childish
spite? Truly?”
“You’ve got some nerve, jackass, to come in here and pretend Molly’s the one at fault.” In direct contradiction to Rob’s order, Lise’s voice
had risen in volume. “She only told me the bare minimum about her divorce, and you already sounded like a total dick. And now that I’ve met you, it’s clear that she didn’t give me even the faintest, most infinitesimal
idea—”
For all that Lise was shouting, Molly could barely hear anything over the insistent buzz in her ears and the rapid thud of
her heartbeat in her skull.
She’d married this man. Married him.
Let him shove cake in her face and stayed with him.
“If I’m being spiteful, I have damn good reason.” She stepped into his space. Thrust an accusing finger at his chest, stopping
a bare inch away. “You used me, Rob. Wrung me dry, then left in the cruelest way possible, like the absolute asshole—”
“Calm down, both of you.” Rob reached for Molly’s arm, sighing when she jerked it out of reach. “Listen, Molly, why don’t
you and I go someplace more private, where you can cool off, and then we can—”
“What the actual fuck is going on here?”
Oh, thank god. At the sound of Karl’s infuriated roar, Molly could literally feel her blood pressure drop back to non-dangerous levels.
When the three hallway combatants—along with dozens of onlookers—swiveled in Karl’s direction, he and his employees still
remained inside the gym, but they were racing toward Molly and closing in fast.
He was red-faced with both anger and effort, his tux rumpled. Not the world’s most natural sprinter. Mutter-shouting breathless
obscenities with each step.
Not once in her entire life had she been more relieved to see someone.
Whatever was wrong between the two of them, she didn’t doubt for a moment that he—like Lise—would have her back and protect
her however he could. Down to the marrow of her bones, she knew he’d comfort her in the aftermath of whatever happened next. Hell, he’d turn himself inside freaking out if that was what
it took to make her feel good in her own skin again.
And she knew that because she trusted him. Wholeheartedly. Without reservations.
Lise was right: He didn’t need to declare his love aloud. Not when everything he did figuratively shouted his absolute devotion.
Molly had simply been too busy wallowing in past hurts to understand that before now.
Rob’s nose crinkled. “Who’s that, Mol?”
“That’s my new boyfriend, Karl. The one you heard on the phone.” Molly grinned, suddenly calm again. “He’s apparently very
eager to meet you.”
Karl ran until the last possible moment, nearly hitting the hallway wall with all the momentum he’d achieved trying to reach
them as quickly as possible.
“Baby . . .” He planted himself between her and Rob and gently clasped her shoulders, presenting the other man with his back.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” She sucked in a huge breath. Counted to five. Exhaled. Felt her blood pressure lower even further. “Yeah, I’m okay.
It’s just . . . Rob showed up without warning, and . . .”
“Got it.” His blunt finger tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “You want to have it out with the asshole here, or would
you like more privacy?”
Unlike Rob, he was asking what she preferred. Not telling her who she was. Not proposing something for his own benefit and
pretending it was for her.
“I don’t . . .” She mouthed the words more than spoke them, keeping her voice too quiet for anyone else to hear.
“I don’t want to spend even an extra minute of time with that man or go anywhere with him, especially not to an enclosed space.
I don’t want to be reminded of him anywhere else in Harlot’s Bay. And I don’t want to be alone with him.”
“Molly, what in heaven’s name—” Rob began, somewhere behind Karl.
“Lise and I would never leave you alone with him, unless you specifically told us to go.” Glancing over his shoulder, still
ignoring Rob, Karl surveyed the visible portion of the gym. “Could head back to the refreshments table. Use it as a physical
barrier between you two while you talk. Have Lise, Charlotte, and Johnathan keep people away. It’d be public, but with some
privacy. What do you think?”
She inclined her head. “That works for me. Thank you.”
“No need for thanks. Don’t want you alone with that bastard either.” His jaw ticked. “Fair warning: Can’t promise to stay
out of things if I hear him dicking you around. You want me to try to keep quiet, though, I will.”
“Molly.” Rob poked his head around Karl’s broad shoulder. “Can’t we simply—”
“As long as you don’t talk over me, Karl, I honestly don’t care. Just make sure to keep your contributions to the discussion
verbal only.” She held up her midnight-blue clutch. “I didn’t bring bail money tonight.”
He looked genuinely disappointed that she hadn’t okayed violence against her ex-husband. “Goddamn shame.”
The deepest, angriest recesses of her id kind of agreed. But as their new group of six made its way to the back of the gym,
she certainly didn’t tell Karl that.
She didn’t need him to physically fight for her. Just love her.
Good thing he clearly already did.