Page 3 of The Ex-cavenger Hunt

I roll my eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “Nope. I’m actually avoiding anything wedding just like you,” I reassure her, twirling a strand of my hair around my finger. “However, I need your opinion, like, sister life-coach level stuff.”

“Shoot,” Zoe responds, her tone the calm to my brewing storm.

I take a deep breath, my heart fluttering in my chest as I gather the courage to voice my thoughts. “Did I— Do you think I might’ve made a mistake with any of my exes? Like, accidentally threw away the love of my life?” The words tumble out, a cascade of doubt mixed with a weird zing of hope. Yes, Lily, because comparing your love life to art disposal is the peak of romance. I mentally chide myself, my cheeks heating up with embarrassment.

“The love of your life?” Zoe repeats, a hint of amusement in her tone. I can almost visualize her eyebrow arched in skepticism and the smirk playing on her lips. “Lil, are you experiencing a love-life crisis all by yourself?”

I bite my lip, my heart racing as I pace around the room.“Maybe? I don’t know, Zo. It’s just, this article got me thinking and . . .” I trail off, unsure how to articulate that I’m seriously considering excavating the ghosts of boyfriends past. My stomach churns with a mix of anticipation and dread, the idea both thrilling and terrifying at the same time.

“What article?” she asks, her voice laced with curiosity and a touch of annoyance.

I quickly text the link over to her.

“Where did you get this?”

“Cleo might’ve sent it over with a bunch of others.”

Zoe’s laughter is so loud I lower the volume and wait until she’s done laughing at me—or our sister. “Of course it was Cleo who is making you reconsider your current relationship status. So this has you thinking about what? That Mr. Right was actually Mr. Right In Front of You, and you let him slip away?” Her voice is tinged with humor, but I can tell she’s already bracing herself for whatever wild ride I’m proposing.

“Exactly,” I exclaim. “I mean, it’s possible, right? I could be my own rom-com cliché?”

“Sweetie, you’re an entire genre all on your own,” Zoe says teasingly.

I take a deep breath, my voice filling with worry. “Zoe, I’m serious,” I say, twirling a strand of hair around my finger, a nervous habit I can’t seem to shake. “What if one of them was The One, and I was too blind to see it?”

“Blind?” Zoe’s skepticism is almost palpable through the phone, her voice a mix of concern and incredulity. “Lily, you’ve had your heart shredded more times than I can count. Remember Marco? Or Alex? You don’t need to go digging through that emotional wreckage again.”

I flop back onto the couch as I let out a sigh. Her words sting because they’re true; my romantic history could rival any tragic Shakespearean heroine—minus the poetic ending.

“Look, Zoe,” I start, glancing at the vibrant paintings on my walls as if they hold the answers to my convoluted love life. “I know my track record isn’t great, but what if I missed something? What if all this time, I’ve been learning, growing, and now I’m ready to give love another shot?”

“In my opinion if you’re ready, you’ll meet someone new. However, I’m ready to entertain whatever it is that you’re planning,” Zoe responds, her laughter tinged with a hint of hesitance, resonating through the phone. I can envision her shaking her head, her expression a blend of amusement and worry.

I sit up straighter, my hand gesturing enthusiastically as if she can see me. “Simple,” I say with more confidence than I feel, my gaze settling on the mismatched throw pillows that are as eclectic as my thoughts. “I’ll revisit my exes, reflect on what went wrong, and maybe . . . just maybe, I’ll find out that one of them was right for me all along.”

“Or you’ll discover you were right to walk away from each and every one,” she counters, her voice carrying a note of skepticism. Yet, I can sense she’s starting to understand where I’m going.

“You got it. It’s a win-win.” I can feel the grin spreading across my face.“Either I rediscover an old flame worth reigniting, or I confirm that I’m on the right path now. But I have to try, Zoe.”

“Just . . . be careful, okay? Maybe think this over some more. Don’t let nostalgia and Cleo make you see something that’s not there.”

“I swear,” I reply, my mind already racing with possibilities.

“Alright then.” She sighs. “Go ahead and start planning your grand scheme, and then fill me in on how I can help. If you need to use my account to make a video conference with all of them at once I’ll lend it to you.”

I laugh, because though it’d be convenient to just throw them all into one place, that’s crazy. Still I just say, “You’re the best sister ever.”

“I know. Make sure to tell that to Cleo.” She laughs as she ends the call.

After she hangs up, the room buzzes with the energy of possibilities. I bounce on the balls of my feet, my mind spinning as I think of how I’m going to start this . . . Is it a quest? Should I just stalk them and chat with them over the phone or go and visit them?

How do I do this? I grab my tablet and go to the Notes app, typing: ‘Lily’s Love Chronicles: The Ex-Files.’ Ugh, no—too sci-fi. Dad still watches reruns of that show. But something like that, something real and raw, yet whimsically wrapped in the romance of reconnection.

What if I start a blog?

Or better yet, I document it on my social media along with my art. A visual diary of my journey back through heartache highway to maybe find a hidden path to Mr. Right.

Sure, that could be the best way to make this happen.

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