She had thought about Carter, about wearing that outfit for him, surprising him. She’d surprised herself, too. But things between the two of them were . . .

What? She didn’t know what they were. They had gotten through the uneasiness, had developed a sort of friendship . . . with benefits. She knew she wasn’t staying in Hope, but she liked having sex with him. Things could have been complicated, but so far, they weren’t. She knew Carter, better than any man she’d ever known.

So why not continue the fun?

“Okay. I’ll try it on.”

“Great. Let’s do that.”

She ended up buying the outfit, and then it was off to dinner at the Cheesecake Factory, where she ordered a magnificent plate of pasta.

“So tell me about you and Carter,” Emma said as she dug into her fish. “I know you two dated in high school, then it was just . . . over, I guess?”

“I don’t know, Em. It’s a difficult situation with him.”

“What do you mean by difficult?”

Molly looked around. It wasn’t crowded tonight, and only a server or two hustled by now and then. She hadn’t wanted to have this conversation with her sister in public, but she didn’t want to have it at her parents’ house, either, so she supposed now was as good a time as any to just tell her.

“I got pregnant.”

Emma laid her fork down on the plate. “What? When?”

“Senior year.”

“Oh my God, Molly. Why didn’t you tell me? Do Mom and Dad know?”

She shook her head. “It all happened so fast. Carter and I were stunned. We were careful, you know. Or at least we thought we were being careful, but I guess not careful enough. So when it happened, we weren’t prepared. We started to make plans for the baby—for the future. Carter was going to delay college. I’d have the baby. We were going to get married. We were figuring things out for our future, you know? Then a week later, I miscarried.”

“Oh, honey.” Emma reached across the table and squeezed Molly’s hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me, too. I was devastated. It might have been unplanned, and we were so young, but God, Em, I wanted that baby so much.”

“I can’t even imagine how awful that must have been for you.”

“It was a bad time. The worst time. To compound things, Carter seemed to retreat from me. He almost seemed . . . relieved.”

“No.”

“Yes. He said he knew I was upset about the baby, and he was, too, but since the miscarriage happened, things could go on the way we had originally planned. He’d go to college, I’d go to college, and we’d have the future we had always wanted together.”

“Oh.” Emma pursed her lips. “That was so insensitive of him.”

“Yeah. I didn’t handle it well. I accused him of not wanting our baby, of not wanting me. I was so hurt. He was hurt. I don’t know. I was an emotional wreck, and we ended things badly.”

Emma studied her for a few seconds. “That’s when you left Hope.”

“Yes.”

“Molly, why didn’t you talk to me? Or Mom.”

She studied her plate. “I don’t know, Em. I was so full of pain and anguish and anger at the time. I bottled it all up inside and just ran like hell. The only thing that made me feel better was getting away.”

She lifted her gaze to her sister’s. “I spent three years madly in love with a boy who wasn’t what I thought he was. And in an instant, everything changed for me. I had to figure out who I was without Carter. Without my family, and without Hope. I had to become my own person. I might not have done it the right way, but I did it the best way I could.”

Emma took a long swallow of her tea, then set it down. “I don’t think anyone can tell you what’s the right way. You had a deep emotional trauma. Something—and someone—hurt you, Molly. I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could share that with me, or with Mom and Dad, but I understand you dealt with it in a way that made sense to you. I know how that is, how you have to figure out who you are without anyone else’s help. I just wished I could have been there for you.”

Emma understood, and that gave Molly more relief than she’d ever thought possible.

“I’ve missed you all these years, Moll. I wish you had told me sooner.”

She felt her sister’s pain from across the table. “I’ve missed you, too. I was just a mess for so long and I had to figure myself out. Plus, I’ve harbored all this anger and resentment for Carter.”

“And now?”

She shrugged. “We talked it out the night of your wedding. Or I yelled at him and told him how I felt. But it just seemed like I was rehashing old hurts. I had to let it go. I can’t do over the past and make it turn out differently, and he feels like shit over what happened. Neither of us are the same people we were back then.”

“Carter’s a good guy, Molly.”

“Yeah, so I’ve noticed since I’ve been back. I had this image of him in my head all these years—the image was of the boy who hurt me. It’s like I froze him in time in that one moment, making him this awful person. That’s not who he is and I had to leave that Carter in the past.”

Emma pushed her plate to the side, and waited while their waitress came by and refilled their glasses.

“And now?” Emma asked. “It seems like you’re spending some time with Carter.”