Page 33 of Falling For Us Again

I wonder for the hundredth time what made her dislike Jenna so much, but for now, I push those thoughts aside, focusing on the present.

Kim lets out another delighted squeal as she reaches the peak of her swing, her face lit up with happiness. It’s in these smallmoments that I catch glimpses of the woman she could be—the mother I wish I’d had more of growing up.

"Uncle Dylan, look how high I'm going!" Kim shouts, her voice full of excitement.

"I see you, Kim. You're flying so high.” I respond, my voice tender and filled with love.

The sun was starting to set as we head back to the car. Kim waves goodbye to my mother, clutching an ice cream cone in her hand. "Bye, Nana!

"Goodbye, sweetheart," she calls back, her eyes lingering on me. "Take care, Dylan. Bring her back tomorrow will you?”

"I will, Mom," I say, starting the car.

My thoughts immediately return to Jenna once again as we head back into town. There are so many complicated feelings between us, and my mother’s dislike of her is just one of puzzle pieces.

Why does my mother hate her so much?

Chapter 10

TRAUMA

Jenna

I look in the mirror one last time, adjusting a stray strand of blonde hair. Satisfied with my appearance, I grab my bag and keys. The summer breeze is cool as it caresses my hair lightly, making me smile. My pink sundress dances around my petite frame with each step I take.

It’s been a good day so far. Inspiration struck, and I came up with ideas for a new book, already writing the first few pages. The creative outburst fills me with a happiness I haven’t felt in a while.

I glance at my watch. It’s almost time for the paint and sip at Lola’s studio, and even though I’m not in the mood to be interacting with other people, I know I must be there for her. She’s poured all her energy into planning this event since she found out about Brian’s cheating.

Lola and Brian are still together, going to couple’s therapy and trying to make things work. Even though I have my own reservations about her decision to remain with him, I support her as a friend. This rough patch has dimmed her usual cheerful demeanor, so seeing her excitement about hosting this event makes me determined to support in any way that I can.

As I drive through the quiet streets, my mind wanders back to my latest book. It’s been a while since I felt this kind of creative surge, and it’s exciting.

Reaching the studio, I pause for a moment, taking in the warm glow emanating from the windows as I park my car.

The studio is nestled between a quaint café and a vintage bookstore. The exterior is painted a soft blue with white trim, giving it a welcoming, almost whimsical appearance. The large windows are framed with fairy lights that twinkle gently in the late afternoon light, adding a touch of magic to the scene.

It makes me smile. It’s exactly how I would have imagined Lola’s studio to be.

Inside, the gallery is cozy and inviting. The walls are filled with a variety of artworks, from vibrant paintings to intricate sculptures, each piece telling its own story. The wooden floors creak softly underfoot, and the scent of fresh paint mingles with the faint aroma of coffee from the café next door.

The space is arranged intentionally, with easels set up in a semicircle to encourage conversation and interaction among the guests. Small tables are scattered throughout, each topped with a palette of paints, brushes, and glasses of wine. The lilting sounds of classical music play in the background, creating a relaxing and inspiring atmosphere.

Lola spots me from across the room and waves enthusiastically. Her vibrant personality is infectious, and I can’t help but smile back. As I step inside, she rushes over to greet me, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Jenna! I'm so glad you came!" she exclaims, pulling me into a quick hug.

"I wouldn’t miss it," I reply, trying to match her enthusiasm

She whispers, slipping her hands in mine. “Come on, let me introduce you to Brian.”

My eyebrows lift, and my eyes dart around trying to pick him out from the small group of people. “He’s here? Which one? The one wearing a cap?”

She giggles. “No.”

“Perhaps leaning against the bar?”

“No, Jenna.”

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