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Her heart contracted in her chest, nearly choking her. “Were you ever planning to tell me the truth?”
“No.”
That was the answer that did her in—on top of all the rest, the fact that he’d systematically lied since the day they’d met. She sank back into the chair.
“Tell me everything,” she said, her voice sounding as if it came from far away. “Leave nothing out.”
He closed his eyes. The muscles of his shoulders and back stiffened under his T-shirt. Molly resisted the urge to reach out and touch him, like she usually did when he was upset. She couldn’t imagine touching him anymore. That was the worst part of all of this.
She waited, pressing her lips together.
When he opened his eyes and started talking, his voice was so quiet it gave her chills.
“Kristina and I met in college, we dated for a few months. I didn’t know she was pregnant until she called me right before Ella was born. Later, I moved to be near her because she was having trouble taking care of Ella.”
He stopped, as if unwilling to go on, and she said, “What happened on the night she died?”
“I was supposed to have Ella that weekend,” he said, “but Kris wasn’t returning my calls. I went to her apartment, but she had moved out. Luckily, her grandmother lived not too far away, and she was willing to give me her new address.”
Molly nodded. That was probably a good sign, wasn’t it? That Kristina’s grandmother trusted him? “Okay,” she said.
“When I got to Kristina’s apartment, the door swung open when I knocked, so I walked in.” Scott stopped and looked up, meeting Molly’s eyes, his own dark and shadowed. “Are you sure you want to know? Because once you do, you can never un-know it.”
His voice sent a shiver of dread down her limbs. “Go on,” she whispered.
He swallowed, staring at his hands in his lap. Molly wondered, briefly, if he was telling her the truth. This could be a lie, too. But she could tell his emotions were real—the horror shadowing his expression, the guilt nearly drowning him.
“Kristina was on the couch,” he said, “all bruised and bloody, unresponsive. I had no idea what had happened to her and I panicked, worrying about Ella. I found her in the bedroom closet, wearing nothing but a stained T-shirt and a filthy diaper. Who knows how long she’d been there? I hadn’t seen her in a few weeks, and I was shocked at how thin she was. When I picked her up, she just curled against me and whimpered.” He closed his eyes, his face knotted as if he were back in that moment, his little girl pressed against his chest. “I considered calling 911 to report that Kristina was in the apartment, that she’d been beaten and maybe overdosed on something, but I didn’t want to get involved. And I’ll admit it, I was furious at her for putting our daughter in danger.”
“You just left her there?” Molly’s heart lifted with a brief, fleeting hope. She was ashamed of herself for thinking this, but it was better than the alternative. Let this be true! Let him have walked away. Let this be the guilt he had carried all these years, that he had left the mother of his child alone to die.
But he shook his head, and her hope plummeted. “As I was leaning over to check on her, she opened her eyes. She saw me holding Ella and she started screaming at me to put her down. And I—I was upset with her, too. We argued. Kris lunged toward me, trying to grab Ella out of my arms, and I—”
Molly stared at him. “What? What happened?”
“I pushed her.” His eyes went dark. Expressionless. “I pushed Kris away from me. She fell and hit her head on the edge of the coffee table. She didn’t get up.”
Silence hung between them.
“And then?” Molly whispered.
“You know the rest.” His jaw tightened. “I took Ella and ran.”
Molly’s mind was spinning, trying to make sense of what he’d told her. “It was an accident,” she said, the words coming slowly. “You should have called the police and told them.”
She wanted that to be true—she wanted his story to be true—but she wasn’t sure if she should believe it. How could she trust anything he said now?
He exhaled a short, unhappy burst of laughter. “Yeah, how would that have gone? The ex-boyfriend who shoved the mother of his child to the ground, accidentally killing her. There’s no way I would have gotten off the hook. I would’ve been arrested, probably would’ve ended up in prison. Ella would’ve been taken away from me. I couldn’t allow that.”
Molly let his words sink in. She wished she had never let him tell her this story. Scott had been right: You can never un-know this.
“Molly,” he said, his voice now gentle. “I never wanted any of this to happen.”
“You never wanted me to find out, you mean,” she said, her eyes locking onto his. She hated that he’d kept this from her. “Why did you bring me into this? You should have stayed away from me.”
His gaze dropped away. “I know. I didn’t let myself get involved with anyone for years—no friendships, no relationships, nothing more than casual acquaintances. But after a few years here in Durango, I... I guess I hoped it had been long enough. Eight years, when I met you.”
She wanted to take him by the shoulders and shake him. He must have been delusional if he’d thought this could stay buried forever. He must have assumed she was so stupid and trusting she’d never find out. The thought sent a shock of indignation through her chest.
