Here is the first chapter in the sequel! I love you all who read it, I plan on updating at least once a week, but anyway I'm so excited for this. Leave your reviews I enjoy reading them all!

"Molly", came the concerned voice of Tom. He called to her through the bathroom of their honeymoon suite. Tomorrow they would be leaving for Italy, and then moving to Scotland. Tom convinced her to leave with him a couple months ago. She hadn't even told her friends until the practice for the reception. They of course were shocked, and even though Sherlock wasn't present Molly was certain he knew. She sighed and looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were still slightly red from her cry just a few minutes ago while she'd been changing. Sherlock hadn't even shown up to her wedding.

It was a nice ceremony. The church was lovely and everyone was charming sitting so perfect in the little pews. When Molly made her entrance on her brother's arm they turned politely and looked upon her with serene faces. Everyone was do happy, but she was just so sad. Behind the thick veil she wore Molly smiled slightly, but her eyes pleaded to anyone who cloud see to stop the wedding. All it would take was a single objection from one person that with each step became more and more needed in her desperate mind. Throughout the process she snuck glances at the doors and in the crowds to see if he had come. Right before their kiss her eyes darted to the firmly closed doors she entered. No one noticed.

"Molly." Tom sounded irritated.

Molly jumped. "Sorry", she called back." I'll be out in a minute.

Tom began drumming his fingers impatiently in the night stand. Molly heard and redoubled her efforts to appear fine and put together. When she exited the bathroom all of the little desire she had to be intimate with Tom dissipated. She threw him a false cheerful smile and snatched one of the robes from the closet and tied it tightly around.

"What are you doing that for?"

Molly sighed and offered him a tired smile."I'm sorry I'm just not feeling up to it today that's all."

"But Molly it's our wedding night."

Tom reached from his position on the bed and pulled her down so she sat on the edge. Molly closed her eyes and tried to breathe as he gently rubbed her arms and shoulders. After some time he relented the soothing tactic and began to kiss her collar bone. He traveled up her neck and was nearing her mouth when Molly eased herself away.

"Not now Tom."

She made to rise up but he was having none of it. The strong tanned hands gripped her dainty wrist in a tight clasp. She was caught. A slight tug ought to have released her but like movement in a sand trap she was pulled back. Molly turned and looked into Tom's hungry eyes.

"Come here."

"No."

She tried to pull away again but was met with much more force than anticipated. Thrust onto the bed Tom lay on top of her stroking the side of her face and trailing down her arm before claiming the hand once more. The contrast of his heat to her chill caused a shiver to pass which Tom mistook as desire. The thin lips curled into a wolffish grin and Molly sensed his predatory eyes rake over her body. This didn't feel right. Tom wasn't in his right mind at the moment. A quick whiff told her all she needed to know about his sobriety. Caution and precision were needed for this now. Molly couldn't risk upsetting him but at the same time she needed to be affirmative. Great.

Tom bent his head and began to kiss her. Stunned by the sudden attack in the middle of her mental plan Molly froze. He could feel her hiding from him and trying to lock herself within that mental safe which protected so much. The force increased. He was begging her to love him in the way he wanted, the lie he was craving just for tonight. Molly felt guilty. A curtain of shame descended upon her twisting reality into a crueler place. Here she saw everyone's thoughts and felt the revolution directed at her. Poor Tom they seemed to echo. Molly is just using him to make Sherlock jealous. Molly doesn't love him. Tom doesn't know how awful she is. Poor Tom, poor Tom, poor Tom. Even she herself began to pick up their solemn chant as it's volume rose higher and higher. The noise in her head was too strong and it needed to be lowered.

Hesitantly she kissed him back. Their lips moved against each other in a forced intimacy, a lie. In her mind the entire night she thought of Sherlock. She still loved him and doubted that she'd ever stop, but she couldn't do this again. Being so close to him after those years, that night, could be just enough to rip her facade of happiness apart. This was the life date had delivered and she would have to be content. Between Ireland and London lay thousands of miles. Molly had to stay with Tom and keep up the illusion lest she fall back into the heart breaking cycle with herself chasing after the dream that was never really possible to begin with. She would be loyal to a loveless marriage for better or for worse and give all that she had to everyone but him. He had lost that chance. With her consent finally to an aggressive Tom Molly cemented her vow to never go back to being unloved by him again.