Page 45 of Love, Rekindled

“I’ll miss you too, Ash, but I need this.”

She shrugs. “I know. Doesn’t mean I won’t miss you. And since you said yes to the job offer you seem...lighter.”

I feel lighter. It’s been almost as if just making the decision took some of the weight off. The part that isn’t fun is leaving Ashton. We’ve been the two of us since Cat left for California a few years ago. I’m going to miss her.

I pull my tough exterior, mush on the inside friend into my arms. I am sad to be leaving. I love where I live, the food, my family and friends. But I can’t stay. Everything right now reminds me of Harold and that’s when the light feeling I’m enjoying starts to crash.

“Maybe you can come down there? There are IVF clinics that I’m sure would love to have you.”

Ashton is what I call a miracle worker. Her success rate is impressive, and her humility about it even more so. She’s not exactly the humblest person regarding anything—except her job. To her, it’s not about the numbers, it’s about the parents who are trying so hard for their babies. Being an embryologist has been her true calling in life.

Sometimes I’m reminded that her black heart isn’t really so black.

“I won’t go anywhere near Virginia Beach until Quinn Miller gets his stupid, thick, ridiculous head out of his ass. I’m not giving him the slightest hope that we’ll get back together.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“What?” she scoffs.

I know she wants to talk a good game, but she loves him. Always has—since she met him—and always will.

“Nothing. I just think you and Quinn complement each other.”

“By both being stubborn?”

“Pretty much. You both love each other, no matter what you’re hellbent on showing.”

“I don’t love him. I don’t even like him. I want a future, a life, a family and he wants...who the fuck knows!”

If she didn’t care, none of this would bother her, but I won’t point that out because I’d like our goodbye not to be her hating me.

“Well, I get it. Also, I’m probably the last person who should be giving love advice.”

“Love is for suckers.”

I laugh. “Love can suck it.”

“Love is a dumb bitch.”

“Love is a lying whore.”

Ashton nods. “Love is pathetic and mean.”

“Love really hurts when you lose it.”

Her phone starts to buzz, but she ignores it, caught up in our declarations of what love can do.

“Love can go right to hell with the dumb men who hurt women like us.”

“You going to grab that?” I ask as the vibrating sound starts up again.

Ashton grabs her phone and plops on the couch. “Hey, Cat.” She uses the excuse to stop packing, which really wasn’t happening anyway, but now it’s definitely not. “I’m at Gretchen’s. Yeah, she’s here, I mean, I’m not here alone.” She pauses and then sighs. “I’m helping.”

“Helping,” I snort. She’s done barely anything.

“Yes, Mom. I’ll give her the phone. Here.” Ashton hands me the phone.

“Hey, what’s up?”

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