man. You don’t know her.” His voice maintained a chilling level of calm. “Molly is in love with Preston Millington.” A dramatic pause filled the line. “They’re engaged to be married.”
Slowly, Ryan dropped to the edge of his twin bed. He pressed his elbows into his knees and tried to catch his breath. “She’s not engaged. She would’ve told me.”
“They’ve set a wedding date. Two years from thissummer.” He laughed, but the sound came across as condescending. “Molly is very young. This whole Belmont thing was her way of being sure about the engagement.”
Hope breathed the slightest air into his lungs. “Have you talked to her lately, sir? She’s not sure. I can promise you that.”
“She’s sure.” His answer was quick. “She called Preston yesterday afternoon and told him she was coming home in a few weeks. When she finishes final exams.” He sighed as if he could barely be bothered with the conversation. “I’m asking you to stay out of her life. Don’t confuse her. She knows what she wants, and she knows where she belongs.” This time his quiet laughter mocked Ryan in every way possible. “A guy like you? From Carthage, Mississippi? You could never give her the life she’s accustomed to.” He chuckled. “You didn’t actually believe she’d fall for you.”
“What if she already has?” Ryan had no trouble standing up to him. “You can’t control her.”
“I didn’t want to have to do this.”
“You’re not going to do anything. Molly’s entitled to live her life, to follow her dreams and—”
“Look.” His tone was sharp again, the laughter gone. “Don’t believe me. Let her tell you.” There was a clicking sound, and what could only have been a recording of Molly’s voice. She sounded upset. “Yes, Preston . . . you know how I feel about you. I’ve known you all my life. I told you I wouldn’t stay at Belmont forever.” Another clicking sound, and when her father spoke again, satisfaction rang in his tone. “Did you hear that? And yes, I recorded her.” He sounded defensive. “She called Preston here at the office. I’m a powerful businessman. I record all my conversations!” He took a breath and seemed to steady himself. “I’m letting you listen to it because I want you to know the truth.”
Ryan’s head was spinning. He couldn’t find the words to speak.
“Look, kid. You heard her. She’s in love with Preston, and she’s coming home.” His words were like so many bullets, steady and well aimed. “If you care about her, you’ll cut things off quickly. Let her go. Anything else will only confuse her.”
Ryan felt himself drowning, gasping for a way to keep his head above water. There was none. The voice was hers, the message clearly her side of a conversationwith the guy waiting for her in San Francisco. Ryan wanted to shout at the man. There had to be an explanation. Molly wasn’t in love with Preston. If she were, she would’ve said so. Shock quickly became fury against her father, rage that rose up and consumed him. He didn’t say another word. He ended the call, tossed his phone on his pillow, and punched his fist. Punched it so hard his palm was bruised and swollen by the time he picked her up.
Their routine that day was the same, but their conversation was short and stilted. He had no intention of honoring her father’s wishes, so he didn’t dream of ending things. But the chemistry that had captured them the night before was gone, and Ryan knew why. With every passing hour, he had to admit the truth. He could be mad at Molly’s father, but the voice was hers. Which could mean only one thing: Her father was telling the truth. Molly’s true feelings were not for him but for Preston Millington.
When their classes were over that day, they drove to The Bridge, like always. This time when they found their spot upstairs, Ryan faced her. “Hey, listen. I’m sorry. About last night . . . I shouldn’t have kissed
Slowly, Ryan dropped to the edge of his twin bed. He pressed his elbows into his knees and tried to catch his breath. “She’s not engaged. She would’ve told me.”
“They’ve set a wedding date. Two years from thissummer.” He laughed, but the sound came across as condescending. “Molly is very young. This whole Belmont thing was her way of being sure about the engagement.”
Hope breathed the slightest air into his lungs. “Have you talked to her lately, sir? She’s not sure. I can promise you that.”
“She’s sure.” His answer was quick. “She called Preston yesterday afternoon and told him she was coming home in a few weeks. When she finishes final exams.” He sighed as if he could barely be bothered with the conversation. “I’m asking you to stay out of her life. Don’t confuse her. She knows what she wants, and she knows where she belongs.” This time his quiet laughter mocked Ryan in every way possible. “A guy like you? From Carthage, Mississippi? You could never give her the life she’s accustomed to.” He chuckled. “You didn’t actually believe she’d fall for you.”
“What if she already has?” Ryan had no trouble standing up to him. “You can’t control her.”
“I didn’t want to have to do this.”
“You’re not going to do anything. Molly’s entitled to live her life, to follow her dreams and—”
“Look.” His tone was sharp again, the laughter gone. “Don’t believe me. Let her tell you.” There was a clicking sound, and what could only have been a recording of Molly’s voice. She sounded upset. “Yes, Preston . . . you know how I feel about you. I’ve known you all my life. I told you I wouldn’t stay at Belmont forever.” Another clicking sound, and when her father spoke again, satisfaction rang in his tone. “Did you hear that? And yes, I recorded her.” He sounded defensive. “She called Preston here at the office. I’m a powerful businessman. I record all my conversations!” He took a breath and seemed to steady himself. “I’m letting you listen to it because I want you to know the truth.”
Ryan’s head was spinning. He couldn’t find the words to speak.
“Look, kid. You heard her. She’s in love with Preston, and she’s coming home.” His words were like so many bullets, steady and well aimed. “If you care about her, you’ll cut things off quickly. Let her go. Anything else will only confuse her.”
Ryan felt himself drowning, gasping for a way to keep his head above water. There was none. The voice was hers, the message clearly her side of a conversationwith the guy waiting for her in San Francisco. Ryan wanted to shout at the man. There had to be an explanation. Molly wasn’t in love with Preston. If she were, she would’ve said so. Shock quickly became fury against her father, rage that rose up and consumed him. He didn’t say another word. He ended the call, tossed his phone on his pillow, and punched his fist. Punched it so hard his palm was bruised and swollen by the time he picked her up.
Their routine that day was the same, but their conversation was short and stilted. He had no intention of honoring her father’s wishes, so he didn’t dream of ending things. But the chemistry that had captured them the night before was gone, and Ryan knew why. With every passing hour, he had to admit the truth. He could be mad at Molly’s father, but the voice was hers. Which could mean only one thing: Her father was telling the truth. Molly’s true feelings were not for him but for Preston Millington.
When their classes were over that day, they drove to The Bridge, like always. This time when they found their spot upstairs, Ryan faced her. “Hey, listen. I’m sorry. About last night . . . I shouldn’t have kissed
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