Falling For Us Again

30. CLOSURE

Chapter 30

CLOSURE

Jenna

“Jenna, is that you?” Aunt Mila calls from the kitchen.

My bag drops to the rug with a soft thud, and I plop on the sofa, exhaustion taking over me. The scent of cinnamon and vanilla warps its way into my nose, and my stomach groans. I didn't even realize that I was starving until now.

“It’s me.” I respond to her with a small yawn. “I’m starving Aunt Mila.”

I didn't want to go to my large house alone tonight.

After Dylan’s confession yesterday, it’s all I can think about. The revelation about our parents still gnaws at me, leaving an ache that settles deep in my bones. My chest tightens every time I think about it.

What a sad, beautiful, tragic love affair.

“Hi honey,” She pulls me into a tight hug. Her arms are warm and strong, and I let myself melt into the comfort of her embrace.

We sit in the living room, and for a while, we don’t say much. My aunt busies herself with making tea, and I stare at the photographs on the mantelpiece that marks the passage of time.

When my aunt returns with the tea, she sits beside me, her expression gentle but knowing. She doesn’t push, but I can feel her waiting for me to open up. The words are lodged in my throat, but eventually they start to spill out.

“Dylan came to see me yesterday.”

Her eyes widen. “He came all the way from Hartlow? Interesting.”

“He said he wants us back together and that he’s still in love with me.”

“And what did you say?”

I brush my hands through my hair. “I couldn't find any words. I was shocked and surprised.”

“What about you? What do you feel?”

“I don't know. I’m so scared, Aunt Mila. I can't deal with another heartbreak with him. You know how much it almost destroyed me back then.”

“Jenna, do you still love Dylan?”

“We’ve spent so many years apart, and we’ve become different people. What if it’s too hard for us now? We have so much baggage from the past. What if it’s too—”

“Jenna." Aunt Mila takes my hand, her light green eyes boring into mine with intensity. “Do you love Dylan?”

“Yes, I do,” I burst into tears. “I love him so much Aunt Mila, but I’m so scared of getting hurt again. What if our love is cursed? I don't want to end up like my mother.”

My hands are shaking, and I feel raw. My aunt’s face is etched with sympathy, but there’s a sadness in her eyes too, filled with a deep understanding that only makes the ache inside me worse.

"I can’t stop thinking about her. I read her journal every night before bed," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. "About what she went through. The thought of living my life like that scares me to death. I don't want to have regrets and miss out on the love of my life.”

My aunt reaches for my hand, her grip warm and steady. “This is why she kept a journal. It was all for you. The night before she was going to run away, we had a long conversation. She told me about a journal she’s been keeping; she says she never wants you to make the same mistakes that she did."

"It was almost like she had a premonition that she might not see you become a woman.”

Tears roll down my eyes softly as I listen to her.

“I can't help but think about how you and Dylan are strikingly similar to Iris and Liam. That’s why Dylan’s mother was disturbed. But I believe you two are different; you get to make a different choice. You're not like your parents in that way".

“I can never forgive Richard for all he did, but I’m glad he woke up one morning and decided to walk out of your life. There was no way I’d have been able to take you away from that town if he was still around.”

My heart twists with bitterness, loss, and anger when I think about my father. “I hate him, but I still felt a sense of loss when I heard news of his death last year.”

“Because he's your father. I opened a bottle of wine and made a toast to good riddance.”

“Aunt Mila!” I shake my head at her.

“Anyway, all I’m saying is that you shouldn't live a life of regrets, Jenna. Live a little, take chances; the love you and Dylan have for each other is worth it. You can’t not live your life today because you don't know what will happen tomorrow.”

I let her words sink in, finding comfort in in them. I love Dylan, and I’m tired of pretending that I don't and making excuses as to why we can't be together. I don’t want to spend one more day without him.

It’s my turn to take a leap.

***

The next morning, we visit my mother’s grave. The cemetery is quiet, the morning sun casting long shadows over the headstones. My feet feel heavy as we walk through the rows of graves, but when we finally reach my mother’s, something inside me shifts. Seeing her name etched in stone, it’s like everything becomes real again, more tangible.

I kneel, my fingers tracking the letters of her name, and the tears come before I can stop them. I cry for her, for the life she never got to live, for the love she lost, and for the secrets she took to her grave.

And I cry for myself, for all the pain I’ve kept buried in me for so long.

It’s time to let it all go, to unburden myself from the resentment, and to live life fully.

My aunt stands beside me, silent, offering her presence without intruding on my grief. I don’t know how long I stay there, letting the tears fall, but when they finally stop, I feel... lighter.

When I stand, I look down at the grave one last time. "I’m sorry, Mom," I whisper, my voice shaky. "I’m so sorry. I love you forever.”

As the words leave my lips, I feel a sense of closure about accepting that some things will never make sense and that some wounds will never fully heal. And maybe that’s okay.

***

The airport is bustling as I weave through the crowd, impatient to reach Dylan. Instead of driving, I booked a last-minute flight, desperate to get to him as soon as possible.

Now, I settle into the backseat of a cab as we head towards Hartlow.

I haven't had much sleep in days. I don't need any more space; all I need is him. I need to tell him how I feel because the thought of losing him again is unbearable.

The drive to Hartlow is long, and by the time we arrive, night has fallen. But despite my exhaustion, I feel a sense of determination. I’ve spent too long running from my feelings, from the truth. It’s time to stop.

When the cab pulls up in front of Dylan’s house, my heart pounds in my chest, fear and anticipation tightening in my throat. His house is dark, save for the faint glow of a lamp in the living room.

What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if I’m too late?

I push the thoughts away and force myself out of the car, my legs feeling shaky as I make my way to the front door. The silence of the night presses in around me, the stillness amplifying the sound of my heartbeat in my ears.

I knock, the sound sharp in the quiet. There’s a long pause, and for a moment, I think maybe he’s not home. But then I hear footsteps, and the door swings open.

Dylan stands there, looking like he’s just woken up, his hair tousled and his eyes heavy with sleep. But when he sees me, his expression changes—surprise, confusion, and something else flickers across his face.

"Jenna," he says, his voice rough with sleep. "What are you doing here?”

He steps aside. “Come on in.”

I step inside, and a pit forms in my stomach. I don’t know how to start; I don't know how to explain everything that’s been swirling in my head. So, I do the only thing that feels right—I step forward and pull him into a tight hug.

For a second, he’s stiff in my arms, but then I feel him relax, his arms wrapping around me, holding me just as tightly.

We stand there in the doorway, holding each other quietly, and for the first time in weeks, I feel a sense of peace.

"I’m sorry Dylan," I whisper against his chest. "I’m so sorry for running out on you a second time." I'm sorry I let you believe that I slept with Paul. It was the only thing that I knew would keep you away.

I should have stood up to your mom. I should have stood up for us." My voice crack with unshed tears.

Dylan pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes searching mine. "What are you saying Jenna?"

I take a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest. "I'm saying that I love you," my voice trembles as I reach out to cup his face.

"I’ve been running from it, from everything for so long, but I don't want to run anymore. I love you, Dylan, and I don’t want to lose you again."

For a moment, he just stares at me, his expression unreadable. The silence stretches between us, and my heart clenches in fear, wondering if I’ve made a mistake. But then, slowly, a smile spreads across his face, and he pulls me close, his lips brushing against my hair.

"I love you too Jenna," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. It’s been torture thinking you didn’t feel the same.”

“I was just scared. I love you so much, Dylan.” “I’ve missed out on a decade with you, and I don't want to miss out on a second more.”

He presses his lips against mine in a tender kiss. It is soft and sweet and full of warmth. We stumble our way to his room, my hands sliding into his silky hair as he brands my body with his kisses.

Our lovemaking is tender. I open myself up to him and we whisper sweet nothings to each other as we give each other the ultimate pleasure.

Afterwards we lay in bed, reveling in the afterglow. He wraps his arms around me, pressing soft kisses to my forehead.

“Jenna.”

“Yes, baby.”

He kisses my cheeks. “I’m sorry for all the ways I’ve hurt you with my actions and inactions. I should have stood up to my mother. I promise to be the kind of man that you can always depend on to be there for you and take care of you.”

I kiss his cheek. “I’m sorry for hurting you too, Dylan". I take a deep breath. "I’m so sorry that I raised my hand to you. Please forgive me. I promise that will never happen again. If anyone should know better, it’s me.”

He kisses my hand.

“ I know you are baby. And I do.

We get a second shot at love Jenna; I'm not going to let anything or anyone mess it up this time.”

We kiss again, his erection already hardening against my thighs, and I smile.

There are still things we need to figure out, conversations to be had, but at this moment, nothing else matters.

We have each other, and that’s more than enough.