Page 28 of Falling For Us Again

We stay like that for a while, our bodies tangled together, the only sound in the room, our ragged breathing slowly returning to normal.

Dylan gently brushes a strand of hair from my face, his touch tender now, a stark contrast to the fiery passion that had consumed us just moments before. Our eyes meet once more,and in that moment, without any words, we both know that everything has changed.

Chapter 9

JUDGEMENTS

Dylan

My mother’s house stands tall against the backdrop of the afternoon sky, an imposing structure that exudes the old elegance of our family status. Its brick façade is painted a tasteful shade of ivory, contrasted by deep green shutters that frame the windows like eyelids. The large, arched windows reflect the sunlight, creating a warm glow that beckons us inside. A meticulously manicured lawn stretches out in front of the house, dotted with vibrant flower beds that burst with color—red roses, purple lavender, and yellow daffodils arranged in perfect harmony.

The cobblestone driveway winds its way up to the entrance, flanked by tall, sturdy oak trees that have stood the test of time, their leaves rustling softly in the gentle breeze. The driveway ends in a circular courtyard adorned with a central fountain,its water cascading gracefully over a sculpted marble basin. The sound of the water adding to the otherwise quiet afternoon.

I park the car and glance over at Kim, my sister's daughter, who sits in the passenger seat, swinging her legs impatiently.

"Ready to see Nana?" I ask with a smile, attempting to match her enthusiasm.

Kim nods eagerly. "Yeah! I made her a drawing," she says, holding up a colorful piece of paper decorated with rainbows and hearts.

"She's going to love it," I assure her, though my thoughts are elsewhere.

As we step out of the car, the front door swings open, and my mother stands there, her face lighting up at the sight of Kim. Her usually stern features soften instantly, and she opens her arms wide.

“Nana!” Kim screams excitedly, running towards her.

“There’s my sweetheart,” my mother coos, bending down to envelop Kim in a warm embrace. The sight of them together brings a smile to my face, despite the knot of tension that always seems to accompany my visits here.

Kim says as shyly as her six-year-old self can muster, “I have something to show you.”

“Oh, you have something to show me?” My mother beams. “I’m excited.”

I walk up the front porch and lean in to kiss my mother's cheek. “Hi, Mom.”

The front porch is expansive, with white pillars supporting the overhanging roof. A pair of elegant wrought-iron chairs and a small table sit invitingly near the entrance, where my mother often enjoys a morning coffee or an evening chat.

“I’ve been waiting for you all day,” she says, her tone carrying a slight reproach.

“I’m sorry. There was a last-minute large order at the café.”

My mother nods, her attention still fully on Kim as she proudly displays her drawing. "Look, Nana, I made this for you!"

My mother takes the drawing, her eyes softening. It’s a drawing of our family together sitting on the porch as we gaze at the moon and twinkling stars. In Kim’s drawing, everyone has a smile on their faces, and my mother wraps a hand over me. I smile at the irony. Our fraught relationship is lost on her innocent self.

My mother murmurs, her voice soft. "It's beautiful, darling. Let's hang it on the fridge."

Kim beams with pride as they head to the kitchen. The scent of freshly baked cookies wafts through the air, mingling with the faint aroma of my mother's favorite lavender-scented candles.

The interior of the house is just as grand as the exterior, with high ceilings and crystal chandeliers that catch the light. The walls are adorned with family portraits and tasteful artwork, each piece carefully chosen by my mother to complement the classic decor. The living room features a large fireplace, its mantle decorated with an array of framed photographs, and elegant vases filled with fresh flowers.

My family’s house is one of the grandest in Hartlow. My parents, both accomplished doctors, were driven by a relentless pursuit of excellence. Their careers took them across countries, from bustling cities to remote corners of the world.

This ceaseless movement meant that I spent most of my formative years at a prestigious boarding school in London.

Despite the exciting and varied experiences that came with their professional lives, my parents were never truly content with city life. The frenetic pace, the constant noise, and the impersonal nature of the city seemed to wear on them.

Choosing to settle down in Hartlow was a significant but welcome shift from their previous lifestyle. The decision to move was driven by a desire for peace and a return to simplicity.

A few years after their move, my father died. His abrupt passing was a devastating blow. I came back home to live with my mother. My older my older sister, Victoria, remained in London, since she was already enrolled in college.

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