Chapter 14
“Hello again.” My shoulders feel rock loads heavier than the last time I stood in this portal. So does my heart. “Back from the Hollywood dream!”
With a tilt of her head, the angel approaches me, luminous as ever, from her shining red locks to her toes. “How was LA?” she asks.
“Just peachy,” I say with a huff. “Not . . . what I thought.”
“Really? How so?”
I release a breath, fidgeting with the pickleball. “Honestly, it was hard. Hard work, hard emotionally. Like, every bit as hard as my work as a newlywed, starting as a design intern, adjusting to married life. Maybe harder. I always thought my twenties might’ve been easier single, but—no.”
I give a small smile. “I did love my time with Quinn, though.”
The angel smiles back, nodding. “Do you have any more questions for me?”
Inquiries swirl inside of me. Some questions can wait, but others are searing a hole in my stomach. “What if I’m done?” I gamble. “What if I don’t think this is very fun anymore, and I want to go back to Reid? To my kids?”
Her eyebrows dart up. “Already? Two balloons in?”
Feels more like two decades.
“Well, I said if,” I point out. “But yes. Can I be done if I want to be done?”
“If that was truly what you wanted, you’d be there, back in your life.”
Ugh.
The process.
“Plus, fun isn’t really the purpose,” she reminds me. “You’re here for much greater reasons.”
My agitation is growing. “Can you at least tell me where Reid is? In our whole flashback timeline?”
“Absolutely not.” She wags a finger. “There is no our anymore. Reid is not yours.”
“Fine, my new timeline.” It feels like my soul’s itching. “Surely he still exists. Where is he? What is he doing?”
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.”
“Why not?” I whine. “This is hard. I’m too old for this.”
Her soft smile tells me that’s the point.
“What about dating, then?” I can’t seem to wrap my body or head around this one. “What about other men? Am I . . . free to date them? Explore them? Slip into those existing relationships, the ones I’m already in?” I rub at my temples. “It’s highly confusing.”
Her eyes twinkle with empathy. “I understand. It is confusing. And complex. But of course, you can date. Once again, Reid is not in this life of yours.” She stretches out her arms to the balloons remaining. “This is the road not taken.”
“So, it’s allowed.” I squeeze the bridge of my nose. “I’m not cheating on Reid?” Or myself?
She shakes her head. “You are not married within these years; you are free to explore other relationships. But what happens here still matters to your heart and your soul. So be cautious with your choices. Be present, but exercise wisdom.”
I groan.
Not married. Still me. But not me. Not cheating, but not a free pass to go wild, either.
Got it. I think.
I pace the room, resigned to the fact that it’s probably time to consider my next brave world.
Eight balloons left.
Twenty-three and twenty-one, done.
I don’t mean to keep hopping forward in beats of two years, but I have to admit, the twenty-five is enticing.
The palm tree.
Vacation?
Yes, please.
My angel is poised and ready with her golden needle.
I grab the thing.
I hope I packed sunscreen.