Epilogue

For the first year or so, ‘torture’ would have been an understatement to describe how it felt to not reconnect with Molly at all. In the back of my head I knew that I could break and creep her Facebook profile or something, and in the first few weeks I broke a few times and looked her up, content at seeing her life going well and deeply saddened knowing I wasn’t in it anymore. Maybe her life was going so well because I wasn’t in it. But as time marched forward, so did I, and what once was a Herculean task that dragged my heart down, became instead an effortless part of my day. I didn’t document what day I started to not think of her daily, but as embarrassing as it is to admit, it probably came in around eight months or so.

But then more time passed, then even more, and I no longer saw myself as an extension of her. I was Aaron again, I was my own person, and felt comfortable being the only person attached to my destiny. I’d still think about her, maybe once a week, maybe once a month, but never associated her with my past sins nor hers. Just a general, ‘Oh yeah, her, I wonder how she’s doing?’ Me, I was doing fine. After finishing university, I quickly took up work as a sandwich artist, working in a sandwich shop by day, enjoying life by night. After a bit, I even began to write my own self-help book. I didn’t know what the hell I’d call it, but I didn’t need a title, even the fact that I’d turned my own experiences with people into a way to possibly help others was cool.

It wasn’t just my experiences with Molly. In fact, it was mostly my experiences with others. I began to learn to love people and talking to them and seeing the smiles on their faces when they talked about their lives. The sandwich shop had its fair share of regulars - there was this one guy that wore a wristband who insisted on ordering something different every time. He wanted to be an engineer. There was this cute hipster-ish looking couple that apparently met at the sandwich shop, then it turned out they were coworkers. They got married surprisingly quickly after, but I wasn’t there to judge, and they seemed really happy. There was this one mother who liked to have her kids order for her to give them ‘a feeling of responsibility.’ People were interesting, and turned a banal, meaningless job into one where every day was different.

A few years into the job came the most impactful day. It was the dead of winter, probably around mid-January, when she came in. I recognized her immediately, even though it was apparent she’d grown. She no longer had her reserved shyness around her, though she kept her shoulders hunched in, perhaps as a leftover quirk. She had on this cute little woolen hat to cover most of her red hair, and carried a little tote bag with her. Her face seemed to retain the youthful innocence I’d always known her for, and yet her stare had the mature elegance of someone who knew how to handle their life. I definitely never saw it from Molly before, and I was overjoyed to see it now.

She studied the menu above my head for a few seconds, brow furrowed in concentration, before approaching me.

“Hi!” she began cheerfully. Politely.

I was grinning without any hope of stopping. “Yeah.” I replied quietly. She didn’t recognize me, but I didn’t mind.

“Could I get a meatball sub, or maybe a veggie ... Hmm.” She pouted again. “Sorry, long day. I was never good with making decisions.” She laughed nervously at the scene she was making in front of a stranger.

“I guess some things never change, huh?” I asked, my grin not waning.

She gave me a confused expression, then her eyes went to my nametag. Her eyes flew back to my face as her own face lit up. “Oh my God! Aaron?!”

“Hey Molly, how’s it going?” I replied warmly, my grin only getting bigger.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” she practically squealed. “How are you? It’s so good to see you! How’ve you been, what are you d- well, I guess working here, but, what’s, you know...”

I could only chuckle as she blabbered on. “It’s good to see you too.” I told her.

She grinned back at me. “Wow, this is really cool. So how’d you-” She stiffened, gazed behind her, and realized there was someone waiting behind her. She turned back around bitterly. “Oh, right. Guess you’re on the clock.”

“I am indeed.” I laughed, calm as ever.

“Well, whatever. Pick the better one. Meatball or veggie. Put swiss and ranch on it. Maybe some lettuce. I’m good to go.” she flusteredly finished.

“One meatball, swiss, ranch and maybe lettuce ... What bread? Want it toasted?”

“Yes, toasted. Toast it before you put the lettuce on. And I dunno, white. Whatever the simplest bread is.” She flashed me a smile. “Thanks, Aaron.”

I completed her order and we moved to the end of the station so she could pay. “I hope it’s a good job.” she mumbled, trying to keep up the conversation.

“I love it, it’s really rewarding.” I told her.

She stared up at me. “You’ve changed.”

“In a few years? I freaking hope so.” I laughed. “Although some of this is just really enjoying seeing you again.”

Molly looked down and smiled. “Yeah, I’m glad it’s mutual.” she said.

“I don’t normally ask customers this, but I get off in about an hour. Would you be interested in hanging out after it’s over? No pressure, of course.” I felt bad asking her, just because of the dynamic of employee-customer, but I also knew I felt very ready to have this friend back in my life.

Molly’s mouth went to the side of her face in thought as she tapped her debit card. She opened her mouth to say something several times, and then eventually said, “Truthfully? I dunno.”

“I can accept that.” I replied. “Tell you what. Until you explicitly say yes, I’ll assume you’re busy or don’t want to or what-have-you. But the offer’s open, okay?”

“Okay.” She smiled. Her smile got bigger as my words sank in. “It’s really good to see you again, Aaron.”

“It’s really good to see you again too, Molly.” I told her as I went to help the next person in line. Over time, I forgot that Molly was still there, and after helping everyone else in line, I scanned the store. Molly wasn’t in sight. She had left.

I shrugged. A few years ago, that would have devastated me, but now, I could accept that. She was her own person now, and maybe me re-emerging into her life was too much. She didn’t owe me her time, I was just glad to see her again in the first place. The next hour was relatively quiet, and after it was over, I went about my duties and closed the shop, unsure of what to do with my night.

Good thing I didn’t have plans, because fate had made a reservation for me. As I locked up the shop, I heard rapid footsteps behind me. I quickly turned around to see Molly jogging back towards me.

She didn’t say a word until we were only a few feet apart. She met my gaze and then lost it, looking down at me feet, then looking back into my eyes confidently. “I was wondering if your offer was still on the table.”

I smiled. “Absolutely.” I replied.

Molly smiled in relief, almost as if she was expecting me to say no. “Okay, cool.” she replied, trying to let her casual tone balance the smile. “Do you have anywhere in particular you wanted to go?”

Seeing Molly again flooded me with memories, the good and the bad, and one memory stuck out to me. “Yeah, I think I actually do have a place in mind,” I told her, offering my hand to her. She gave me hers and I enthusiastically grabbed it. “You cool with taking a bus?”

“Uh ... sure!” she replied hesitantly, and I smiled, beginning our journey. I had gotten to know the place pretty darn well, and as we rode on the bus, we just talked. About my job and how well I knew the city, how Molly was applying for a grant with some teaching project, how Daisy and her parents had a falling out and she moved out and didn’t communicate with them, and how beautiful the snowfall was. Eventually, we made it.