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Molly Sullivan remembered the first time she met Florence Blakely.
Molly had just moved to Hope Valley with Patrick. The two were newlyweds and they were madly in love. Or so Molly thought.
Florence lived in the row house next to them and she had showed up at their door with a welcome basket in hand and a smile on her face.
Their husbands were at work.
Molly had invited her in and over the course of one evening, they became fast friends. She hadn't even realised how much time had passed till the door opened and a spot covered Patrick stepped into the house.
Molly couldn't pinpoint the exact moment she fell in love with Florence. Maybe it had been the first time they met or maybe it had happened gradually over the course of multiple years.
When she did realise, she also realised multiple other things with it. She realised she was in love with her best friend, a woman. She realised she had never actually been in love with Patrick, she merely enjoyed his company. And she realised she was pregnant.
Florence had opened the door to Molly collapsing into her arms, a complete and utter mess. Despite the concern that radiated off her being, she didn't ask any questions because, as nosy as Florence was, she knew Molly well enough to know she wasn't in any state to answer anything.
Molly had known about her child before Patrick.
Rosaleen was a bright child. She could talk someone's ear off, especially if that someone was her father. She adored Patrick and she was one of the many reasons Molly kept quiet.
She distanced herself from Florence,using her daughter as an excuse. She longed quietly, the guilt of her sin weighing on her. And if anyone noticed how little she slept or ate even before the accident, they didn't comment on it.
Then the accident happened and everything got worse. The deaths of the miners hung in the air in a thick blanket of grief. Florence withdrew, her energetic self becoming muted as she mourned her husband and Molly felt sick harbouring these feelings for a dead man’s wife.
She mourned Patrick, but not in the way the other wives mourned their husbands. She mourned her companion, Rosaleen’s father, her safety, the comfort he provided, but she didn't mourn her husband.
Rosaleen took it the worst. She stopped talking entirely and, try as she might, Molly couldn't get through to her daughter.
When one day, after trying for hours just to hear her daughter one more time and failing, she found her feet leading her to the little white house identical to her.
Florence opened the door, heavy bags under her eyes, staring at Molly as though she was a ghost.
They melted into each other's arms with ease, years leaking out of tired eyes.
“I thought I'd lost you too.”
Molly's hold tightened.
“Never.”
They leaned on each other for support and Molly realised just how much she'd missed the other woman.
They helped raise each other's children and whenever Molly found herself wishing, she banished the thought to some deep, dark corner of her mind.
When Rosaleen went missing, she wasn't sure who was more worried.
“Our girl is out there, alone and scared.”
Our girl.
Molly couldn't help her heart swelling, even in the midst of all the panic.
When Elizabeth found her, they'd both almost collapsed with relief.
Rosaleen was fast asleep and the clock ticked on above the mantel as Molly stared into the distance, her mind occupied with so many thoughts, she thought it would burst.
The knock was soft at first and she didn't hear it. Only when it grew louder and more insistent did Molly startle from her state.
Florence stood still, eyes wide as if she wasn't expecting Molly to answer. She dropped the hand which was raised as if to knock again and quietly asked, “Can I come in?”
She moved aside without any questions and allowed Florence to step in.
Silence descended upon the duo, awkward and unexplainable.
“Do you want to see Rosaleen?”
Florence looked up from her intense study of the floor sharply. “No- Yes- No,” She sighed then tried again. “No, I actually came for you.” She looked nervous beyond words so Molly lay a comforting hand on hers.
What happened next was shocking, something Molly never would have expected, not in a million years. But she wouldn't call it unwelcome.
Soft lips landed on hers and just as quickly as they were on her, they were gone. She missed them immediately.
Florence looked horrified. “I- I'm so s-sorry. I don't know what c-came over me-”
Not knowing what else to do, Molly shut her up with the only thing she could think of.
This time, neither of them pulled away.