“Something to think about…” He shrugged, filling my wine glass. I looked at it, already feeling way too buzzed to make any real decisions.

“You only live once,” Gretchen prodded. Her hand moved over my knee under the table still, edging along the silk edge of my skirt. “We’ve all missed you, Ronnie.”

I stood up, carrying my plate to the sink, murmuring. “Let me think about it.”

I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to think about anything. The wine had made me sleepy and way too relaxed, and when Gretchen curled up on the couch beside me and put her head in my lap just like she used to, I didn’t say a word. TJ sat in the chair across from us, watching, listening to us talk-

reminisce, really. It was as if someone had hit “pause” on the tape and had now pushed “play.” We just picked up where we left off, soft voices. low laughs, inside jokes, our fingers twined together.

When Gretchen yawned, stretched and sat up, saying she had to get back, it was very late, and I didn’t want her to go. TJ helped her on with her coat and her kiss goodbye was a little longer and too lingering to be called just friendly. She gave TJ a hug and thanked him again for calling. I knew it was coming and had planned my even, measured response to it, but when she said the words, mine wouldn’t come.

“We’re flying out Monday.” She squeezed my hands in hers, swinging them, and it made me feel like a little girl. “Doc says just give him the word and he’ll book your tickets.”

“I-“ They weren’t there, those words I’d planned, the polite refusal, the kind turn-down. It wasn’t just that I couldn’t say them-it was as if they didn’t exist anymore. “I’ll let you know.”

“Please.” She leaned in and kissed my cheek, her lips brushing the corner of my mouth, making me shiver. “Please come.”

With that, she was gone.

TJ closed the door, calling for her to be careful on the snowy stairs and then turned to me. “What do you think?”