Winter in Kentbury (Kentbury Tales #6)

Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Jenna,

Landon tells me that even after all your careful dodging, Genie McFolley still managed to make you the chair for the Spring Festival.

I can almost hear you laughing about it, trying to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal, but I know better. I can’t imagine a better person to lead that festival. Landon warned me Genie wants us co-chairing next year, as if somehow that’s the next logical step.

Between you and me, I think we should skip town next year and run away somewhere warm and beautiful instead. Just the thought of watching you breathe a little easier, with no responsibilities but sandy beaches and blue waves—God, I’d like to see that.

My brother also told me that the flower shop’s struggling, and it kills me to think of you handling it all alone. So if you’d let me help in some way, even as a silent partner, it would mean a lot to me. And no, this isn’t some loan or charity—believe me, I want to be part of something that brings you joy.

Flowers, in all their brief, radiant beauty, are so like you, Jenna: vibrant, full of life, and stubborn enough to bloom even in the hardest seasons. I’d be honored to be a part of that in whatever way you’d let me.

Therapy’s been . . . more challenging than I expected, but in ways I think I needed. I didn’t realize just how much I’d been carrying, and now I’m slowly unpacking it all, piece by piece.

They’re helping me dig deeper, even into things I thought I’d buried ages ago. The resentment and ache surrounding my parents have been hard to confront, but I know I need this closure. I don’t plan on reaching out to them, not after everything, but I’m finally learning to release the hold they’ve had on me for so long.

It’s freeing, Jenna, but it’s also raw and painful, like tearing away something that’s been part of you for too long. I only wish I’d had the courage to face this sooner.

And through all of it, I keep going back to our letters. They’re a lifeline, something steady and warm to hold on to when I feel like I’m slipping. I know I didn’t reply to you while I was in the military, and that’s something I’ll regret for the rest of my life. Your letters were there in the worst moments, tucked away like reminders of a life I could’ve had if I’d made different choices. And now, every time one of your letters arrives, it’s like I’ve been given a second chance to answer, to reach back across all the years I missed and finally let you in.

Jenna, you’re with me through all of this. Even miles apart, your words keep me grounded. They remind me that there’s a light at the end of this path I’m on, something good waiting if I’m strong enough to reach for it. If you ever think about stopping the letters, please don’t. There aren’t enough words to express how much each letter I open means to me.

I hope one day soon I’ll be able to stand in front of you, as the man you love, and be worthy of all the faith you’ve shown in me, even when I didn’t deserve it. Until then, keep writing. Let me be a part of your life, however far away I am. And if the shop needs me, know that I’ll be there in a heartbeat.

Take care of yourself, Jenna. I think about you every day.

Love,

Holden