Page 80 of Falling For Us Again

I remember the sound of tires skidding, the scream of metal twisting, and the world spinning out of control. And then—nothing. Silence. Darkness.

I can’t breathe. I feel the room tilt, the walls closing in, and suddenly, everything goes black.

When I come to, I’m on the couch, Dylan’s hands on my shoulders, his face full of concern.

His mother is kneeling beside me, her face pale, worried. My heart is racing, my chest feels tight, the remnants of the memory still swirling around in my mind like a storm I can’t escape.

“Jenna?” Dylan’s voice breaks through the fog, and I blink, trying to focus on his face. His eyes are wide, filled with worry, and I realize he’s been calling my name, trying to pull me back from wherever I’d gone.

“I’m...I’m okay,” I manage to say, though my voice is shaky, and I’m not sure I believe it myself.

His mother reaches out, her hand trembling as she rests it on mine. “I’m so sorry, Jenna,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “For the terrible way I treated you. You were just a child and didn’t deserve any of it. You weren’t responsible for your mother’s choices.”

"Beyond the betrayal, your father was also threatening me to keep Dylan away from you. I was scared for Dylan. I didn’t want him to follow in his father’s footsteps and suffer the same fate."

"I know that probably doesn’t mean much to you right now, but it’s the only way I knew to protect my son.”

Her apology feels like a knife twisting in my gut. All these years, she’s known.

“I’m sorry,” his mother says again, her voice small and broken. “I’m so sorry.”

For a long moment, no one speaks. The silence stretches out and Dylan reaches for my hand, his grip the only thing that feels real in this moment.

I look at him, searching his face for what… I don’t know.

But all I see is the same confusion and pain that I feel.

Chapter 28

SPACE

Jenna

The morning light filtering through the curtains gently wakes me. I glance around, feeling disoriented.

Where am I?

My head feels heavy, like I had too much to drink. A dull throb pressing behind my temples.

I turn my head slightly, my gaze falling on Dylan who’s seated in the chair beside me. His posture is stiff, as if he hasn’t moved for hours. His eyes are on me, shadowed with pain.

Memories of the conversation with his mother last night comes rushing back, and I realize I’m still at his mother’s house.

The truth we discovered is staggering, and we’re still coming to terms with it. It is a space of shared devastation between us.

He’s still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, wrinkled, with a faint stain on his sleeve from something I can’t remember.I want to say something, but my throat is dry, as if all the words were drained from me in the night.

I don’t have to ask how long he’s been here. The dark circles under his eyes and the slight tremble in his fingers tell me enough. He’s been here with me all night.

I push myself up slowly, like I’m afraid too much motion will shatter the fragile quiet between us. Dylan reaches out instinctively, his hand brushing against my arm, but he doesn’t say anything. His fingers are warm against my skin, a contrast to the coldness seeping into my bones.

Dylan’s grip on my arm tightens just slightly, a flicker of emotion crossing his face. It’s that same mix of disbelief, anger, and sadness I’ve been feeling since yesterday. He nods but doesn’t speak.

I know there’s an added layer of hurt for him, knowing that his father was willing to leave him and his sister for me and my mother.

I can’t stand the silence anymore. It presses in on me, thick and unbearable. I need air. I need space.

“I need some air,” I say quietly, sliding out of bed and heading toward the window. My legs feel unsteady, and my movements sluggish like I’m wading through thick mud.

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