Not Pretending Anymore Read Online Vi Keeland, Penelope Ward

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
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I waited near the door to the master bedroom while Molly walked over to a tall dresser and opened the top drawer. A bunch of framed photos on display seemed to catch her attention. She reached out and took one into her hands.

“Oh my God. I can’t believe he has this in a frame. I’m going to kill him.”

I walked in to peek over her shoulder. “What is it?”

“It’s an old photo of me and my sister. I think I was about six, and she was seven.”

The photo was adorable. It was clear from the big blue eyes which one of the little girls was Molly. Her head was thrown back in laughter, her hair was tied up in lopsided pigtails, and she wore the biggest, toothiest smile I’d ever seen. Just looking at it made my lips curve upward.

“Why are you going to kill your father? I think you look cute.”

“Uh…because my pants are wet?”

I’d been staring at her giant smile and hadn’t even noticed her clothes. But sure enough, when I looked down, the shorts she had on were indeed wet. And not like she’d spilled something. “Did you pee your pants?” I asked.

She covered her face. “Yes! He has a framed picture of me with soiled shorts on! Why the heck would he display this?”

I chuckled. “Was this a frequent occurrence for you? You look a little old to be pissing your pants here.”

“My father and sister had just tickled me. I warned them to stop, but they didn’t. I cannot believe he still has this, let alone framed it.”

It was a little strange to show off a picture of your school-age daughter who’d wet herself, but I understood why he did it. “He loves your smile in the photo, and it reminds him of good times.”

She sighed. “Yeah…I guess so.”

Setting the photo back on top of the dresser, she shook her head, looking through the others on display. She picked up one of her wearing scrubs and a stethoscope.

“This is my nursing-school graduation picture. I didn’t give him this. My mother must have sent it to him.”

“Well, it looks like he’s proud of you, if he framed it.”

Molly’s face became solemn as she ran her finger along the edge of the frame. “I didn’t even invite him. My mother told me it was the right thing to do, but I felt like inviting him was some sort of disrespect to her. He’s missed so many things in my and my sister’s lives because we couldn’t forgive him for leaving us.”

“Don’t do that, Moll. Don’t put that on yourself. You were hurt and had your reasons. We can’t change the past, but we can learn from it. You’re here for him now, and I’m sure that means a lot to him.”

She smiled halfheartedly. “Thanks.”

After she packed a bag and collected some toiletries, we headed down the hall to the stairs. But as she took the first step, she stopped and backed up. “Hang on a second. I want to see something.”

I followed as she walked back to a door we’d just passed. She opened it and flicked the lights on. The bedroom was decked out in a pink comforter and had pink-and-white-striped window treatments. It was neat, but sort of barren.

“Is this your half-sister’s room?”

She shook her head. “Her room is down the hall. This was supposed to be my room. I was sixteen when he bought this place. He brought me over to show it to me, and this room had been all set up, just like this. I never stayed in it, but it looks like he hasn’t changed anything over the years.”

“Wow. I guess he never stopped hoping you might come spend time here.”

“Yeah.” She sighed, flicked off the light, and shut the door. But she held onto the handle with her head down. “I’m glad I came here tonight.”

I put my hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “I’m glad I came, too…Molly P. Corrigan.”

She turned around with her face all wrinkled. “P? My middle name is Caroline.”

I wiggled my eyebrows. “Not anymore. From now on, it’s Molly Pee-Pee Pants Corrigan.”

She rolled her eyes, but smirked. “God, you’re such a two-year-old.”

“Maybe. But at least I’m potty-trained.”

***

It was four in the morning by the time Molly came back to the waiting room this time. Her dad had been admitted to the intensive care unit, and I’d dozed off in the waiting room down the hall.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” She pointed to the snack machines lined up along the far side of the room. “I’m so thirsty and wanted to get a water.”

I rubbed my eyes. “I wasn’t really sleeping. Just resting my eyes.”

She smiled. Taking two bills out of her wallet, she fed them into the vending machine and bought herself a bottle of Poland Spring. “You want something?”



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