“I can’t tell you what to do or how to do it. That’s on you. If you love her, then go and get her. Ask ChatGPT or Google. Read a book about it… I don’t know. You’re the one who needs to figure it out. Show her you mean it. Don’t just show up at her door and expect her to fall into your arms because you’re sorry. She needs more than that. And don’t give up on the first try. If you fail, you try again and again and again.”
“Okay. I can do that.” I nod, slowly. “I can. Thank you, Carla. I owe you one.”
“You can name your firstborn after me. How’s that?”
I let out a laugh that surprises me. “Let’s not get too excited.”
“Suit yourself.” She shrugs and grins, picking her purse up off the chair. “I’m going. I’ve said what I came to say. Don’t make me come back here.” She points at me.
“I won’t.”
“I mean it, Ridge. If I have to come back, I’m bringing rubber gloves and a hose, and you’ll be sorry.”
“Understood.”
She points at me on her way to the door. “Fight for her.”
“I will.”
I watch Carla leave.
Then I go to the coffee table and gather the rest of the containers into my arms. I carry them through to the kitchen and drop them into the bag next to my overflowing trash.
I feel a little lighter than I did half an hour ago.
Robyn is in love with me. She misses me. She’s miserable.
I have no idea what I’m going to do to fix it. But I’m going to figure it out. This is completely foreign territory to me.
