Not Pretending Anymore by Ward, Penelope (easy to read books for adults list txt) 📗

“When I was sixteen, my father left my mother. He’s a dermatologist, and he married his nurse barely a year after he walked out. Kayla, his wife, is only six years older than me. I think I took the breakup and his recoupling harder than my mother did.” She shook her head. “I was just so mad at him. He basically started a new life without us. The entire thing was so stereotypical and cliché. My mom had worked two jobs to help put him through med school. He paid her back by trading her in for a newer model a month before her fiftieth birthday—and his nurse, no less. I actually have a little sister who people think is my daughter.”

“That sucks. I’m sorry, Molly.”

“Thank you. Anyway, it’s been almost twelve years now. My mom is over it. She’s dating a really nice guy now. But I never let go of the grudge, and it’s really put a strain on my relationship with my dad over the years. He calls me every few weeks, but our conversations are like two strangers talking—How’s the job? How’s the weather? Any good vacations planned?”

“Does he live here in Chicago?”

She nodded. “He lives over in Lincoln Park.” She stayed quiet for a few minutes again, and then said, “I’ve wasted so many years harboring bad feelings over something that wasn’t even about me.”

“Well…” I took her almost-empty wine glass and refilled it. “The good thing about forgiveness is that it doesn’t have an expiration date. You can give it anytime.”

Molly forced a smile. “Thanks.”

“Is he in the hospital?”

She shook her head. “Apparently he had some tests done, and he’s starting chemo in a few days. He called my mom because he left me a message last week, and I haven’t gotten around to calling him back yet. Apparently neither did my older sister.”

“Does your sister live here in Chicago?”

“No, Lauren lives in London. She did a study abroad during her junior year in college and met a guy. Moved there to be with him the day she graduated. They’re both professors at a university, so she only comes back once a year to visit.”

I nodded. “How are you going to handle things? Will you call him or go over and see him?”

“I don’t know. I guess I should do both—call him back and then go speak to him in person. Though, to be honest, the thought of that makes me feel sick. It’s been a long time, and I’m not sure how to go about fixing things, especially now.”

“I’ll go with you, if you want.”

Molly blinked a few times. “You will?”

“Of course. You’re my roomie. I got your back.”

“I appreciate that. I really do. But it would probably be weird to bring along someone he’s never met before. I think I need to mend this fence on my own.”

I nodded. “Okay. Well, how about I drive you over to Lincoln Park when you go? I’ll park around the corner and wait for you. I can bring my laptop to do some work. That way you don’t have to drive if you get upset, and you’ll have someone to keep you calm on the way there.”

“That’s really generous of you. I know I’ll be too preoccupied to pay attention to the road. So I might take you up on that, if you mean it.”

“I do. And consider it done. You just let me know when, and I’ll be there.”

Molly smiled, and it felt like the hand clutching my heart had loosened its grip a little. “Thanks, Declan.”

She was quiet for a few minutes. “Did your parents have a messy divorce, too?” She tilted her head.

My forehead wrinkled, and Molly noticed.

“You said you have a complicated relationship with your mother,” she explained. “So I thought maybe you had a similar situation to mine.”

I shook my head. It was much easier to talk about my dad’s bout with cancer than my mom’s illness, especially these days. Plus, I’d finally lightened the mood a little. Molly didn’t need me bringing her down any more. So I tried to downplay what I’d said earlier. “Nah, just some family crap.” I stood. “Why don’t you finish your wine and relax for a bit? I’ll go get dinner ready. It’ll take me ten minutes to make a new batch.”

Molly looked over my shoulder toward the kitchen. “What did you make?”

“Belgian waffles with ice cream. Figured part of my job as your roomie was to help you break your aversion to morning foods at night. And I’ll tell you what—since you had a tough evening, this meal’s on me. You won’t even have to do my laundry or pick up my dry cleaning.”

She shook her head, but chuckled. “Thanks.”

I tossed the cold waffles and melted ice cream in the garbage and whipped up a fresh batch. It made me happy that Molly dug in and seemed to forget about her dad for a little while.

“So, how are things going with Julia?” she asked as we ate.

“Good, I guess. We had dinner after work the other night.”

“You went on a date?”

“Not really. We work together and travel a lot, so we often share meals together. But this time it felt sort of different.”

“Like how?”

“She complained about Bryant, her boyfriend, a lot. They’ve been together for almost a year, and she’s never done that before.”

“So she wants you to know there’s trouble in paradise?”

I shrugged. “I thought the timing was interesting. She suddenly lets me know for the first time that maybe things aren’t so great in her relationship, right after she suspects something might be going on between me and my hot roommate.” Right after I said it, I realized calling Molly hot might not be appropriate. I liked to tease her, but I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have called you that. I mean, obviously you’re beautiful, but I don’t want you to think I’m checking you out when you’re walking around the apartment or anything.