Page 72 of Love, Rekindled

I laugh. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Ashton snorts. “Please, I’m a fucking headcase. I can’t figure out what I want, who I should be with, all I know is that I want a family. I want to have babies and love but I can’t seem to find anyone who wants to share that life with me.”

I feel bad for her. She’s been in love with Quinn Miller for the last two years. Whether she wants to admit it or not. His life just isn’t built for long distance and she won’t give her career up. It’s the one thing she has control over and Ashton needs that. They’re at a stalemate and until one of them is willing to bend, they’re just breaking.

“Quinn loves you, Ash,” I defend him. Quinn definitely wasn’t my favorite person in the beginning, but I think it was just the definition of their relationship that I struggled with. They had some weird agreement where they could live how they wanted when they were apart, but nothing serious. I’m not a traditionalist, I mean, I was fucking my boss in secret for years, but still. It was just too...weird.

The more time I was around Quinn and Ashton as a couple, the more I got it. It was the only way they could reconcile their feelings. By allowing each other freedom, they were able to find a way to make it work, until recently.

“I know he does. Even if he doesn’t know he does. It doesn’t matter, though. None of it does if we can’t find a way to be together. He has the military and I have my job. He’s deploying in a week anyway, so there’s no finding a way.”

I hear the pain in her voice and decide to let it drop. “I get it.”

“Anyway, we’re talking about you and Ben.”

“No, we’re done talking about that.”

“Answer me this.” She pauses. “If Ben fit on your list, would you date him?”

“Without question.”

“Then write a new list.”

* * *

Ben is on his way.He should be here in about ten minutes and I’m staring at my notepad. On top is my header: Gretchen’s Life List.

Under that...it’s blank.

For the first time in my adult life, I don’t know what to write.

I don’t have a plan or an idea on where to go. There are no rules right now. I can do anything, live anywhere and choose something other than what I always thought.

Some might feel very liberated. I feel like I can’t breathe. The lack of order isn’t welcome.

A year ago, my list was solid and workable. Now, there’s too much uncertainty. Is marriage even what I want? Then there’s the fact that all I keep thinking about is Ben. Each time I go to write, he is the first thing I want to put down, which is fucking insane.

Harold never made my list. He was just who was going to fill in that slot.

A knock at the door causes me to jump.

“Shit,” I mutter, pushing the book under some papers so he doesn’t see it, and I try to collect myself as I walk to the door.

I close my eyes, hand on the door handle, release a deep breath, and smile. “Hey,” I say as I open it.

“Hello, gorgeous.” Ben’s deep voice washes over me. “These are for you.”

In his hand is a beautiful bouquet of daisies.

Daisies. “How did you...?”

“Are they not your favorite anymore?”

“They are, but I can’t believe you remembered.”

Ben looks at me like I’m a wounded animal. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Because it’s been so long. Because my stupid fiancé didn’t even know daisies were my favorite. Each year, I’d get lilies or roses as he’d tell me he knew how much I loved them—which I didn’t. I hate lilies. They’re too strong in fragrance and give me headaches. Roses are pretty, but that’s what you put on a casket. Morbid, I know, but after my Nana passed away, roses became associated with death.

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