Chapter 746 Molly, I Came for You 3
Midnight.
Elliot and Molly had no intention of going home.
They waited on the empty street until the first firework cracked open the sky. One after another, bursts of color bloomed above them, lighting their faces in fleeting, brilliant flashes. Elliot's face had never looked so alive, so unguarded, as if the years had fallen away and he was the boy he used to be.
Molly felt the same.
For a moment, the filthy alleys, the scars of the past, all of it seemed to dissolve into the night air.
In her world, there was only Elliot.
She was giddy in a way she had never dared to imagine. She had never thought she would have him again, never thought she would step into his world—a world that had always been impossibly far from a girl like her. And yet, when she was at her lowest, he had come back.
He said he forgave her.
He said he no longer blamed her.
Beneath the rain of fireworks, Molly tilted her head back and asked, "Elliot, will you say it again? Please, just once more—tell me you forgive me."
The winter night had painted her cheeks a deep red. She was not the kind of beauty that photographs well.
But Molly no longer cared.
Her eyes were fixed on Elliot. He looked down at her for a long moment, then cupped her face in his hands. She thought he was about to repeat the words. Instead, his voice softened. "Molly, marry me."
She froze.
Then, beneath the burst of fireworks, a diamond ring slid effortlessly onto her slender finger. The light caught on the stone, scattering sparks across her skin as if it had always belonged there.
"Say you will," Elliot murmured.
Molly looked up at him, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. "But I came unprepared."
His gaze darkened, steady and unyielding. "I don't care."
For a long moment, she searched his face. Then she took his hand, lifted it to her lips, and pressed a trembling kiss into his palm. Her voice was barely more than a whisper. "Elliot… you're where I'm warm."
He drew her into his arms, his lips brushing her hair. His voice was just as unsteady. "I know, Molly."
They had met when they were young, and though time had passed, they were still young now.
Elliot was twenty-six. Molly was twenty-four.
On Christmas night, they made a vow that would bind them for life. Afterwards, they went to a hotel. Molly refused to return to the apartment—too many bad memories. Elliot was quietly pleased by her small act of defiance.
They chose the best suite in a six-star hotel. Elliot paid for three nights in advance. Molly told him he was being reckless.
He only smiled.
The world outside no longer mattered. What mattered was the two of them, the way they gave themselves wholly to each other. Their passion burned through the night.
Outside, snow began to fall. Inside, the suite glowed with a gentle warmth.
In the small hours, Molly slipped from his arms, restless, and padded to the living room's floor-to-ceiling window. Elliot followed, shrugging into a robe.
Beyond the glass, the snow drifted down, covering the city in a thin white veil.
He wrapped his arms around her from behind and listened as she began to speak of the past.
"When I was little, our home was warm," she said softly. "But when I turned eight, we moved into a cheap attic. It was old, full of rats that scurried around at night. Sometimes we couldn't even afford that, and the landlord threw us out. My grandmother would wrap me in our only blanket, and by morning she'd be half-frozen herself. I'll never forget those nights."
So when, at eighteen, she was offered a chance—a million dollars in exchange for deceiving a boy—she took it.
But Elliot had been so good to her. She had fallen for him. She had wanted to stay.
Her voice grew quieter. "The worst moment of my life wasn't being stripped and thrown to the floor. It wasn't losing both my parents to suicide. It was when you found out I was a liar."
Because Elliot was the best thing that had ever happened to her.
In that moment, she had known her dream had shattered.
She whispered an apology. She told him she knew about his basketball dream, but Elliot no longer cared.
He pulled her into his arms. "If you ever need to talk, I'm here," he said gently. "But Molly, that's behind us now. Our children will never know that kind of hardship. I'll take care of you. And if the Windsor family ever falls, I'll swallow my pride and go to my aunt for work—enough to keep you and the kids safe, always."
Molly chuckled, the sound light and unguarded. She felt a pleasant fullness in her heart, as if his words had wrapped her in a blanket she never wanted to leave.
Snow kept falling.
Molly felt a rare, perfect stillness. She had been in the entertainment industry too long, surrounded by noise and chaos. Moments like this were rare. She cherished them.
Just as she cherished Elliot.
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