Of course, she’d said some other more hateful things, too. Like accusing him of being incapable of love at all. And then she’d hired a viper to rid him of thirty million.
Molly was one of those vipers. What would she say if she knew the real story behind his divorce? That it was 100 percent his fault?
CHAPTER FIVE
THE MORNING HAD been fun and exhausting, and then after a riverside picnic lunch, they’d gone to a museum in Campbell River for the balance of the afternoon. Molly had found the information and art about the coastal native peoples to be incredibly interesting and beautiful, but by five o’clock she was ready to pack it in, find a cool glass of white wine and call it a day.
Eric had moved on within the group and so had she; there was no need for partners during a group meal or wandering through the museum. She’d missed him, and that was enough of a warning sign. Snorkeling had been so amazing and fun. She’d always had this dreadful fear of breathing through the snorkel and going too deep and inhaling water. Just thinking about it brought back horrible, horrible memories from when she was a child. But pride had pushed her forward, and so had the current and her life jacket. Once she’d put her face in the water and had taken those first few breaths, she’d been fine, and thrilled at the sheer number of salmon in the river. Day one had indeed been an “easy” day of touring wineries. Today she felt as if she’d got her feet wet, both literally and figuratively. She’d conquered something that scared her, and it made her feel both strong and somehow lighter.
After a hot shower, she put on a pretty sundress and sandals and went to the patio bar, where she sipped on a glass of wine and let out a happy sigh. She was not sorry she’d come on the trip. Smiling, she took out her phone and scrolled through the pictures she’d taken today. One of Eric in the inflatable boat stood out. The wet suit clung to his physique and she swallowed tightly. There was no denying he took care of himself, if the breadth of his chest and shoulders was anything to go by. He’d had the wrist cam on and she wondered how his footage had turned out. And if—God forbid—she was in any of it, in her own very formfitting wet suit.
She took another drink of wine and felt defiance bubble up inside. Why shouldn’t she put one on and do interesting and exciting things? Why should she let her insecurities hold her back?
Good Lord. She’d been wrapped up in Spanx and a power suit for so long that she wore it like armor. Instead of being protective, though, she was starting to see that her very appropriate dress and appropriate hair and appropriate shoes and apartment and social life were a prison keeping her from experiencing life.
She feared very much that she’d become the one thing that she’d been determined not to—a cookie cutter. Once, many years earlier, she’d fancied herself in love with an upperclassman. He’d been headed for big things, maybe even political aspirations, and she’d been the right sort of woman to have on his arm. But that was where he’d wanted her—on his arm. Not in law school, not in any position where, she realized now, she might have outshone him. When she’d announced she’d passed the bar, she’d expected him to propose. Instead he’d broken up with her.
He was the only man to have ever broken her heart, but she’d realized over time that it had been a lucky escape.
Except she hadn’t really escaped at all. She’d still done what was expected of her and followed her father’s wishes. The right office and the right cases and the right look—the family image. She was so tired of it. Tired of holding all the hopes and dreams of her parents because Jack had died.
Jack.
What would he say right now if he could? He’d been such a great kid, full of life and a laugh that never failed to make her smile. He’d teased her incessantly, and had also been determined to protect his little sister... Her throat tightened at the memory that she lived with every day.
She took another sip of wine and let the breeze through the evergreens soothe her soul. This distance from the life she’d built was good. She was starting to see she’d filled the role that Jack had been meant to play in the firm, but she’d forgotten to actually live for him, too. To experience things, like joy and adventure and wonder.
She stood up from the table and lifted her arms to the sky. There was a big world out there she had yet to experience, and she was going to live it, dammit!
Just as she was about to have a Kate Winslet–ish “gumption” moment à la The Holiday, her phone buzzed.
She didn’t want to answer. It was her father again, and she let it go to voice mail, if nothing else but to prove a point. She was not on call. The office could survive without her for a couple of weeks.
It had taken being out of the country for her to realize how much she resented having toed the family line for so long. Did she even actually enjoy what she did for a living? Being at their beck and call day and night?
The phone buzzed again and she sighed, her earlier elation deflating. What if it was actually something important? Something to do with her folks or grandparents? She hit the button on the phone. “Hello?”
“Did you get my message?” Her dad’s voice came through strong and clear.
“I didn’t have time to listen to it. What’s up?”
What followed was a five-minute update on the case he’d mentioned the day before. Molly gave up on trying to get a word in as he seemed determined to plow forward. When he finally took a breath, she stepped in with two words as she pressed her fingers to the top of her nose. “Dad. Stop.”
The cool wine now seemed to fuel the beginnings of a headache. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Dad, I’m on vacation. Since you can’t seem to respect that, as I asked yesterday, I’m going to turn off my phone for the rest of my trip.” Never mind that she was using her phone for a lot of her photos. There were ways around that.
“What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing. But there’s more to life than the practice. I’ve always done everything you asked. Don’t I deserve something for me?”
There was a pause. “I thought ‘this’ was what you wanted.”
She knew he meant the job, the position, the lifestyle. And for a while it had been alluring. But most of all what she’d wanted was his approval. He always kept it just out of reach. Being made partner was great, but it came with a whole new set of expectations that she was never quite sure she could meet. Now she was taking a well-earned vacation and felt as if by doing so she was somehow letting him down.
“You never asked me what I wanted, Dad. It was assumed. I knew it was how I’d make you proud. That was what I really wanted.” To make up for the son he’d lost.
Another long pause. Then her father cleared his throat. “So, about the case...”
Tears pricked the corners of Molly’s eyes. She never cried. But she’d been incredibly honest just now and her words were met with avoidance and rigidity. Because the Quinn family didn’t talk about their feelings.