Page 23 of Love Letter Lost
Ridge pulled into the parking lot of a nearby burger joint, and we climbed out of the car. Leading the way inside, Ridge got the first door but didn’t make a fuss when I reached for the next one. We both stopped to examine the menu. Deciding on a bacon cheeseburger and shake, I stepped forward and placed my order, making sure to ask for no ketchup or tomato.
I grabbed some napkins and headed to a nearby booth, where Ridge joined me a few minutes later.
“So, I know about your school and work life, but what about your personal life? Is there a guy I’ll get to meet at the wedding?”
I laughed, trying to ignore how weird it felt to be discussing these things with Ridge. There was still a piece of me that wanted to hate him. “Much to my mother’s dismay, no.”
“Really?” Ridge leaned across the table, studying me.
“You sound shocked.”
“I thought for sure you’d be married with kids by now.”
“That makes two of us.” I shrugged and gave a sad smile. “I’ve dated, but nothing’s worked out. I was even engaged for a bit, but Matt decided he liked kissing other girls more than being faithful to me.” I was surprised at how easily the words came out. Usually, I avoided talking about my failed engagement, but telling Ridge about my past felt natural.
“Ouch.” Ridge flinched and gave me a sympathetic look. “For what it’s worth, it’s his loss.”
“That’s what everyone tells me, but it doesn’t change the fact that he decided dating his receptionist behind my back, a total cliché by the way, was better than marrying me.” I felt some of the familiar ache start to settle in my chest and opted to change topics. “It’s old news now. I would return your question, but you’re clearly dating someone.”
Ridge gave a half smile, leaning back in the booth with one arm stretched along the back of the red-vinyl cushion. “Before Amber, I was basically a loner. I dated, but just a lot of first dates. There were only a few girls I felt like taking on second dates and none who made it past that. But then Amber waltzed in, and what can I say? She’s hard to refuse.”
Ridge’s response sounded less than enthusiastic to my ears. His words weren’t exactly a declaration of devotion and love, but it was hard to tell how he felt. We hadn’t spoken in over a decade. Who was I to say his lackluster response proved he wasn’t in love? Also, why did I care?
“So, does that mean you think Amber’s—”
A worker showed up with our food, cutting me off. The amazing smells of fries and burgers filled my nose. After thanking the worker, I took a bite of my shake and let it melt on my tongue. Very few things beat the effects of chocolate and ice cream in times of stress.
“Good to know some things never change.” Ridge’s voice startled me from my moment of calm, making me realize my eyes had drifted closed as I’d lost myself in the rich goodness of chocolate, mint, and Oreo.
“’Scuse me?” I covered my mouth with my hand, trying to swallow. I hadn’t realized that I’d taken such a large bite.
“You’ve always loved ice cream. I’m glad to know that hasn’t changed.” Ridge grinned, and I couldn’t keep from smiling back.
“Well, ice cream does run through my veins,” I quipped, remembering one of our old inside jokes.
“Is ice cream still a staple food group in your life?”
“Without a doubt.” I laughed. “Though I do try to eat more fruits and vegetables than I used to.”
I unwrapped my burger and took a bite, wincing as I registered the odd bittersweet taste of tomato. Pulling off the top bun, I removed the offending vegetable, relieved to see that the workers had at least gotten my “no ketchup” request right.
“And you still hate tomatoes.” Ridge laughed this time, shaking his head. “I thought you’d have learned to like them by now.”
“They’re the devil’s vegetable and should only be consumed in the form of pasta sauce, pizza sauce, or salsa.” I worked hard to keep a straight face, but a smile slipped through with the last word.
“I forgot you called them that. What was broccoli again? Something about trees.”
“A sad excuse for a tree.” I grinned. “And they still are.”
Ridge sat back, studying me. I reached up with a napkin to make sure I didn’t have any ice cream on my face.
“I’ve missed you.” He nodded his head, confirming the words. “Ten years is a long time.”
My stomach tightened. I’d missed him too, but it hadn’t been my choice to push him away. He was the one who’d left me.
My phone chimed, a welcome distraction, and I glanced down at the text.
MOTHER: I know you said no to the last guy, but I’ve found you a date for the wedding
