Page 21 of Forgotten Romance

“Don’t write that.” Orson laughs as he tugs my phone off me and grabs a notepad and pen instead. “I’m sure we can come up with a list that doesn’t involve misdemeanors.”

Ford thinks. “Our love story started with a near drowning.”

“Ours had a sword fight …” Payne adds.

“I was stabbed …” Griff muses.

Keller lifts his hands. “Don’t look at me. I only thought about handcuffing Will to the bed for his own good.”

Orson covers his mouth with both hands. “I’m very worried about all of your partners.” He shoots a look at Ford. “Even yours.”

My gaze pings from one friend to the next. “I would have thought handcuffing to the bed was a good thing. No?”

“Not in this case.” Keller crosses his arms. “My best bit of advice is to find shared interests and spend time doing them. Will and I …” A smile trembles across his lips, and urg, I want to be that happy and in love again. “Let’s just say that we’ve found a lot of ways to do that.”

I huff. “We were only talking about this the other night, and other than the kids, we have no shared interests.”

Art cocks his head. “None?”

“Nothing.”

I don’t like how the guys go silent. It sets off the doubts again that make me squirm.

“So. Dinners.” Payne points at Orson to write it down. “It can be simple, but something you know he enjoys. Make it a bit special with candles or something.”

“Okay.” I drink the advice in.

“Flowers are always good,” Ford says, patting Orson’s thigh. “I know someone who can give you a family and friends discount too.”

“Really?”

Orson smiles. “I’m sure we can work something out.”

“Does Davey like flowers?” Griff asks.

“It’s the thought that counts.”

“It’s true,” Art agrees. “We can give you a whole list, but none of it will work unless you tailor it to you. People don’t care about things; they care about moments.”

Payne snickers, and Keller rubs at his temples, but that sounds like perfect advice to me. Tailor things to what Davey wants. But what are the types of things he likes? Work. That’s all I can come up with.

And with that realization, it dawns on me that maybe this divorce wasn’t completely his fault.

I bury my face in my hands. “Oh no.”

“What’s wrong?” Griff rubs my back.

“I’m a horrible person.”

Again with the silence.

I groan and rub my fingers into my eyeballs, then look up again. “I think I’m the problem.”

“You’re going to have to spell that out,” Orson says kindly.

“The reason we don’t have anything in common. The reason I can’t think of anything romantic. Hell, probably the reason we got divorced in the first place?—”

“You did suggest it,” Art points out, right before Keller belts him over the head with a cushion.

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