Falling in Love with our Memories (On Hold & Under Editing)

3 Months Later/The breakup with Molly

3 months had passed since I admitted my feelings towards Fredrick and got burned. (Both literally and figuratively).  Fredrick went on his second date with Molly and things went well enough that it turned into dating.  After the first two months which I considered the slight honeymoon phase things went downhill.  Whenever I saw him mention her name or invite her over he never looked truly happy. Fredrick would often times sigh even sometimes complain once she was gone.

Whenever Molly would come over, Fredrick asked me to stay out of her sight.  He still hadn't told Molly that I was living with him.  He was avoiding that the conversation just like I tried to avoid her by going upstairs where all my sewing, writing, and drawing stuff were. The desk that was placed up there was set in front of a window so I could see outside.  A bonus was I could hear everything they said downstairs and I could sneak a peek.  Sometimes Fredrick would look up making sure that I was still mostly out of sight. I'd pretend to be engaged with my reading or sewing even though Lord knows I listened in to every single word that came out of their mouths. I know it was wrong of me but there never really was much to hear. Whenever she came over  Molly would complain the whole time about anything and everything.  How she even had room to draw in breath was beyond me.  Fredrick told me it was exactly like this when they were out in public. 

I felt bad for Fredrick as I sat watching him sitting at the table, hands folded on the table deep in thought. Molly stood pacing while rambling on in another rant about some girl she had an unfortunate encounter with.  I pitied the other girl. Molly snapped at him when she noticed his distant gaze, my mouthed opened in surprise at the fact that she yelled at him in a huff over something as small as that. I didn't blame him, she was as interesting as a potato in cold water. This would happen often and a couple times they'd get into bad fights about it ending up with Molly storming off and Fredrick slamming the door to his room. Those moments I dreaded.  I felt like I was back at my parents house all over again.  I never told Fredrick though I just bit my tongue if Fredrick had to endure so would I.  My troubles shouldn't have I concern him.   I didn't dread it just because of the fighting I dreaded it because I was always the one to calm him down and pick up the pieces just for them to be scrambled all over again.  I noticed he started getting stressed a lot more often and I did my best to ease his mind.  I would make him his favorite biscuits, his ma had taught me the recipe for.  We'd sit silently until I would ask him for the hundredth time why he wouldn't just break it off.  His response was always "I'm working on it."

The last time Molly came over was another day where she was going on and on complaining about something that happened.  She sounded like a broken record repeating the details of her disappointments and outrage over and over.  Fredrick sat looking at the table.  He looked bored out of his mind and miserable.  I was on the platform upstairs sitting at my desk.  I looked down helpless unable to make him smile.  I had decided to work on a journal in order to let out some of my pent up emotions but with her going groaning It was hard to concentrate.  I stared out the window at the sky it was a beautiful blue sky with wispy clouds.  The air was starting to get chilly now that early fall had arrived.  I looked down a d was able to barely catch a glance of the barn.  I wondered if I could see Chase.  I attempted to stand up from my chair doing my best to be quiet.  I had no such luck though.  I stumbled as I didn't pull out my chair enough and quickly grabbed for the desk so I wouldn't stumbled back, in doing so I spill the jar of ink and watched it soak a part of me paper.  I wanted to let out a grunt of frustration but knew then they would gear me for sure downstairs if they hadn't already.  I picked up the jar of ink as quick as I could but my hands were now dripping with ink.  I looked down at my new clothes I had been lucky that none had gotten on it but I looked down at my hands.  I looked around seeing if there was anything I could wipe my hands on but the only things up here were quilts and bed sheets that I knew I couldn't soil.  Everything else was in crates or in chest.  I held my breath trying to weigh my options.    Molly's wails may have stopped her from hearing my ruckus but I saw Fredrick look up and I stepped close enough to the railing that he could see my hands.  He looked over at Molly and attempted to look around seeing if he'd be able to help get me a rag but he shrugged.  I ran my hands my hands over my forehead trying to move the loose strands out of my face.  I was well aware that ink had transferred.  I was hopeless.  By now the ink would for sure permanently stain my desk that Fredrick had worked so hard on. Fredrick's gaze lingered to long and Molly noticed.  "What are you staring at?"