Molly doesn’t respect me. She’s happy to have me on the periphery, someone she uses when needed. But she doesn’t want me or love me. And maybe, just maybe, love isn’t what I feel for her either. “Good night, Molly,” I say again. A streak of panic flashes across her face. I give her the best smile I can manage before I walk out. And for once, I’m walking away from her. And it feels just fine.
