CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

MOLLY

––––––––

The first bunch of roses arrives two days later.

I know they're from Atlas because there are twenty-four of them. No offense to Greg but that's a pricy bunch of long stem red roses. Plus, after our call yesterday he knows we're just going to remain friends.

Focusing back on the roses, I can't help feeling like I'm in the middle of a romantic movie. The long-stemmed roses arrived in a huge gold box, and while I'm flushed and surprised by the gift, it's the note I want to read.

I rip open the little white envelope.

If I could turn back time I would tell you exactly how I felt about you. A xx

I lift my eyes and stare at the wall.

"That's it?" I say out loud to the empty room.

No apology. No invite. No demand.

I put the roses in a vase, and feeling a little deflated, carry on with my day.

The next week eighteen roses arrive and I'm secretly thrilled. They're white and absolutely stunning. All week I've thought about Atlas, wondering if I should call or thank him.

I didn't do either.

I love that he has sent more.

I rip open the note eagerly.

Any man who lets you go is a fool. I'm not letting you go; I'm giving you time. A xx

Oh, my.

I almost text him but something stops me. I feel frozen. I'm not sure what any of this means but when I read the note again (four more times!) I know that's okay.

Somehow Atlas knows I can't rush.

The truth is, I may never be ready.

The following Wednesday arrives and it's almost three in the afternoon when the courier shows up. I hate that I was chomping at the bit all day waiting for him.

I take the box, close the door, and smile like a fool. Inside are twelve yellow roses.

The note reads I miss you so damn much my heart aches. I am not saying the words until you are ready. But I'll wait forever if I have to. A xx

"Oh god." I clutch the note to my chest and let the tears roll down my chest.

It's been more than two weeks since I've seen Atlas, and I miss him too. More than miss him.

I need to see him.

It's taken all my willpower not to call him or message to say thank you. That I want to see him.

To just hear his voice.

But I don't know what I'd say.

I'm scared.

I put the yellow roses in the new vase I bought myself on Monday and discard the dying flowers. Then I take out a single yellow one and put it in the small glass vase I have beside my bed.

So silly, but it feels like Atlas is with me in there when I sleep.

It's two weeks until Christmas and I wonder what his plans are. Is he going away? Is he working?

Is he happy he won the CFD Award?

I saw it announced on social media last week and nearly messaged him.

But I didn't, even though I wanted to tell him how amazing it was.

Payton and I talked, and she's forgiven me for disappearing from her wedding. I told her the entire story about Steve, and she cried.

"What an ass. What a loser. No offense."

"No offense, but it is a reflection of me though." I shrug. "I chose him."

"Molly! You can't blame yourself. People don't normally go around having two lives. He's the asshole who lied to you and your entire family. This is on him."

She's only partly right.

I should have insisted I meet Steve's friends and family and dug a little deeper before agreeing to marry him.

Why did he propose at all?

I've never had closure. I've never understood why he did what he did. Perhaps I never will.

But I need to try. I need that closure so I can move on.

I'm just terrified.

"Will you come with me when I go see him?" I ask her after telling her my idea.

"Molly, I don't think that's a good idea. He's possibly a psychopath." She freaked.

"Maybe. But we'll do it in public. He can't hurt me any more than he has."

"If you need to do this, yes. After our honeymoon." She promised. "I'll have to tell Knox though. I can't lie to him."

"Okay, I get it."

I know Steve's Christmas party happens a few days before the big day, and that it's held at the Philly office, so I'm going to message him the day before and ask to meet.

If I know him—and I'm not sure I do—then curiosity will get the better of him and he'll agree.

It's time to put my past behind me and move on.

Whether that is with Atlas, we will have to see.

––––––––

THE FOLLOWING WEDNESDAY six pink roses show up and they're so damn pretty I can't help but smile.

"You certainly have an admirer," my regular courier driver says.

"He has good taste." I grin girlishly and close the door. I can't get the note open fast enough.

It's crazy, like Atlas and I are living in a different decade and this is the only way we can communicate.

Even if it is only him doing the communicating.

Pink roses for my pretty girl. I think about you day and night Molly. Are you ready to be mine A xx

Happy tears prickle my eyes.

I want to be.

I really want to be.

I leap up to get my phone and stop.

Before I go to him, I need to do this. The Christmas party is next Tuesday night. When Atlas sends his rose to me next week I will call him.

I'll either be ready or not.

I'm feeling so much better and love how Atlas has consistently shown up with his gifts each week.

He's trying.

He's making me feel important.

And it's working.

This feels different. I just hope it is.

Because if I do open my heart to him and he breaks it, I'm not sure I will survive.