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“So this is how it ends? You’re just going to take your toothbrush and go back to your sad little ‘Sherlock’ and pretend you don’t want to be with me.”
“You don’t understand at all. Tom will make me happy. It’s only a matter of time until you break my heart. So I’m just going to break it myself.”
“Molly, what makes you think I will break your heart?” He spoke in a small voice now.
“You can never love me the way I love you. You can’t even say it, Sherlock. Tom tells me he loves me and kisses my hand and does the dishes. You would never do any of that stuff.”
“Dishes? This is about dishes? I would much rather do the dishes than have this argument. Please don’t go, Molly. I don’t want this to end.”
“No, Sherlock. This little affair has to be over. I can’t keep cheating on my fiancé. I need to do what’s best for me. Can’t you understand that?”
Sherlock’s head dropped and Molly darted out the door, toothbrush and purse in hand.
When Molly arrived at home, she was still clutching the toothbrush as if she would never let it go. Tom looked very confused as he walked into the bathroom to see Molly staring in the mirror and brushing her teeth like her life depended upon it, a single tear running down her left cheek.
“Molly! What on earth is wrong?”
Molly started crying harder. “It’s just um, something at work,” she said through her tears and toothbrush.
Always trusting, Tom took Molly into his arms and hugged her until his shirt was soaked with toothpaste and tears.
That night when Tom kissed Molly goodnight, she was limp and hardly kissed him back. They laid down in bed and Molly turned her back to Tom. He put his hand on her shoulder and she jerked upright, startled. “Molly, is everything okay? This doesn’t seem like it’s about work. You seem really depressed.”
Molly started to cry again. “The man I love doesn’t love me back.”
“No, don’t cry Molly. I love you so much. Don’t you ever doubt that.” After Molly was silent for a full minute, the only sounds being her soft sniffles, he finally figured it out. “You don’t mean me, do you?”
Molly shook her head and said, “I’m so sorry Tom. You are an amazing man. You really are. But I still love him so much.”
“Oh, Molly. You know all I want is for you to be happy. Sure I will be sad and I will probably get angry and call you just to yell at you, but if you can handle all that then go get that lucky man.” Molly just stared at him. “Go! Go now, Molly! Just promise me one thing: Don’t you ever tell me if you cheated on me. I don’t think I could handle knowing that.”
Molly nodded and mouthed “thank you.” She got out of bed and pulled on a sweatshirt and shoes. Then she ran out of the flat and hailed a cab.
On the ride to Baker St. she thought about what she was going to do. She loved Sherlock so very much, but she knew he couldn’t love her like that. All he had wanted to do was have sex. They had never even gone out for a meal. She pretended that was because they didn’t want to run into Tom, but in all honesty she knew plenty of cafes he would never step foot in. Finally, she arrived at Sherlock’s flat and ran to the door.
When she knocked, Mrs. Hudson answered. “Oh hello dearie. It’s rather late isn’t it? Well, anyway Sherlock’s not in.”
Molly’s face fell. “Did he say where he went?”
“He mentioned something about having to get something or other.”
“Thank you Mrs. Hudson,” said Molly politely, her eyes welling up with tears.
She decided to just go home and sleep on the couch.
Molly’s cab pulled up in front of her flat and she saw a figure sitting on her front steps. At first, as she got out of the car she thought it was on of her drunk neighbors, but upon closer inspection she saw that it was Sherlock. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you, Molly.” He stood up and reached for her hand.
They took off walking down the street and Molly finally plucked up the courage to ask “Why did you come to my flat?”
“I realised something. Something I had to tell you in person. Tonight.”
“Oh?” she squeaked.
“I don’t want you to break off your engagement for me, but I have to tell you that I love you, Molly Hooper.” Molly held up her left hand, her fourth finger bare. She had taken off the ring before leaving the house. He smiled and she thought she was going to throw up there were so many butterflies in her stomach.
“Well, that’s very nice Mr. Holmes, but I rather think that’s a bit forward of you. After all we haven’t even been on a date yet.” She smirked as he rolled his eyes.
“If that is what it takes, I will take you on so many dates you will have been everywhere in London before I propose to you.”
She drew in a sharp breath. “Propose?”
Sherlock rolled his eyes again. “Of course, Molly. Of course I plan on proposing to you in the future. I’m in love with you. Isn’t that what normally happens?” For a moment he seemed genuinely confused.
“Oh just kiss me you big idiot.”
And he did just that.