Brayden, Melissa - How Sweet It Is

“It’s not so much that I want to. But I think it’s important I fill in the gaps. Plus, it will keep me from thinking about…other things.”

“Forbidden words?” Molly tickled her ribs in punishment, forcing her to laugh and squirm. “Sorry. Right. Other relationships.” Jordan sighed and settled back in. “Not a lot to tell. Last real anything was with a woman who lived in my building. We went out a couple of times, and it became a little more about the hook-up. We didn’t have a lot in common, though I think she wanted to pretend we did. Made her feel less guilty about the whole thing.”

“That’s rough when there’s no real common ground. Is that the main thing you would change?”

“I guess. She also didn’t get my sense of humor. Could never pick up on when I was joking and when I wasn’t. It was a problem for me. What about you? What would you change?”

Jordan felt Molly tense in her arms, clearly uncomfortable at how the tables had been turned. “Oh, about me and Cassie?”

“Yeah.” Jordan knew she was treading on dangerous ground, but she also knew it was somewhere she had to go. Before answering, Molly pushed herself into a seated position, breaking all contact, her gaze on the wall. “Um. That’s a hard one. Maybe her deep-rooted obsession with the cap on the toothpaste?”

“Wow. That’s pretty generous of you. There’s really nothing ?”

“You know, I guess maybe there isn’t. I’m going to get some water.”

Jordan wanted to drop it there, badly she did. But she was up and following Molly before she could help herself, her frustration growing by the moment. Through it all, she understood Molly’s thought process. She understood why Molly needed to remember Cassie in the most favorable light possible.

Yet it simply wasn’t fair. It was stacking the deck against her.

“Why do you act like everything was perfect with Cassie? That she was?”

“Of course she wasn’t perfect. No one is. But what we had, it was more than what most people have. It was—”

“Incomparable apparently.” Okay, that sounded overly sarcastic.

Molly went still, the glass in her hand suspended as she scrutinized Jordan. “Whoa. What’s with the attitude?”

“Because you set up this wonderful ideal of a relationship which is, A. bullshit, and, B. impossible to compete with.” Okay, now they were off the tracks entirely and Jordan didn’t seem capable of reining herself in.

Molly stared at her hard, defensive. Angry. “Who the hell are you to judge? And why is it that you feel you have to compete?”

Jordan was too far in to stop. “Just look over your shoulder, Molly. There are three pictures of you guys looking young and in love on the refrigerator.”

“You want me to take the photos down?” It wasn’t the question itself that got to Jordan, but the way Molly said it, as if it was an illogical idea. It was infuriating.

“I don’t think you could handle it if I did.”

“Well, it’s not your call anyway.”

“I guess my question is will it ever be yours? Because I’m starting to wonder, Mol.”

Molly shook her head in mystification, taken aback. She looked incredibly uncomfortable. “I don’t think you understand what it is that you’re talking about at all and maybe we should just—”

“If I had asked you if you were free after work on Wednesday, what would you have said?”

“That I’m not. You know that Wednesday is—”

“Set aside for Cassie. As is a large part of your life, and probably part of your heart, and that’s not a pattern I see ending anytime soon. That’s the only point I’m trying to make here. She’ll always be a part of our past, Molly. She was important to both of us. We both loved her. And we both miss her. But does she have to be such a big part of our present?”

Molly’s eyes flashed. “The photos, the Wednesdays, they’re important to me. After everything, they’re all I have.”

“All you have. Ah, well, that certainly puts things in perspective. Thank you.”

“That’s not fair. You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Do I?”

“We’re talking about a relationship that took up half of my life. And this”—she gestured between them apathetically—“whatever the hell this is, should have at least earned me your patience in trying to sort it all out.”

The words Molly had just used to describe their relationship were telling, and she felt the effects of the blow all over. “Whatever the hell this is. Nicely put.”

Molly glared. “You know what? I don’t want to do this with you. You should go.”

It was a runaway train at this point, and Jordan couldn’t stop it. The fight had taken over and it felt like they were no longer in charge of it. She was angry. More than angry, because this is exactly what she knew would happen. “That would be your solution. Take the easy way out and avoid dealing with any kind of conflict. It’s what you do best, after all.”

“Says the girl who fled town for four years,” Molly bit out. “Take a harsh look in the mirror, Jordan. I don’t think you have a lot of ground when it comes to standing tall and dealing, do you?”

“Low blow.”

The look on Molly’s face was glacial at best. “Leave, Jordan. I don’t want you here. I don’t know how I can make that more clear to you.” Her voice was terrifyingly final. Jordan felt the blast of those words and something else too. Hurt. And it was far more devastating. She turned and headed for the door.

As she drove home, her mind replayed the argument over and over again. And while she was still worked up, she was also leveled by the way Molly had so easily dismissed their relationship. Who they’d become to each other. And now, it felt like it had all crumbled around her.

God, she hated that feeling.

But it was hard to stay pissed off when your heart was hurting the way Jordan’s was. What had started out as one of the best nights ever had spiraled into something she would give anything to undo.

She shouldn’t have pushed. Molly was right.

As she drove, it occurred to her that it was time to face some hard facts. If she and Molly couldn’t so much as have a conversation to work through some of the obstacles between them, well then, maybe it was better if they were done.

She sighed.

She could lie to herself quite well when she wanted to. It was one of her best talents.

*

It turned out the clinic’s new receptionist was the real deal. Her name was Alyssa, and Jordan had her pegged at about twenty-three or twenty-four years old. But the girl was definitely competent. The waiting room was as busy as Jordan had ever seen it, but Alyssa had everyone informed, happy, and moving along at a steady pace. This was good news for Jordan, as now she could devote more time to getting the details of the production company in order and start to make arrangements to head home.

Given everything that had happened recently, it was definitely time.

Behind her, Jordan heard Alyssa addressing a patient. “I apologize, sir, we’ll do our best to get you back soon, but without an appointment, it could take a little time.”

“Sweetheart, do me a favor and tell Mikey that Luke is here and that my fuckin’ hand hurts.”

Hearing the language, Jordan spun around in her chair from where she’d been categorizing charts. She recognized Luke Treyhorn. He’d been a friend of her brother’s in high school. From the rumor mill and Facebook, she’d heard he’d picked up an alcohol problem that cost him his marriage and quite a few friends. She watched as he stalked back to his chair, muttering to himself under his breath.

“Everything okay?” she asked Alyssa quietly.

“I’m pretty sure he’s drunk,” she whispered. “I’m trying to work him in, but your brother is booked solid.”