Page 34

Jennifer

T he pool at Dylan’s parents’ estate was Olympic sized, turquoise and shimmering under the late morning sun.

The marble deck gleamed, and the mansion’s manicured lawns rolled out in every direction.

I powered through laps, arms burning, the sheer size of the pool forcing me to work harder than I’d planned.

Every stroke sharpened my mind, but I couldn’t outswim the gnawing thoughts from three days ago—Lanie’s dinner quip about Haverwick, how it was Mark, not Dylan, who’d come to see me.

Dylan’s silence since, no explanation or apology, clawed at me, intrusive doubts circled back every time I pushed them away.

I clung to the pool’s edge, breath ragged, mind replaying that night: the kitchen’s warmth, the porch’s glow, the laughter until Lanie’s bombshell dropped.

Dylan’s blank stare. Was he hoping I’d forget?

Would New Dylan lie? Old Jennifer whispered yes , but New Jennifer vowed to believe in him.

Maybe amnesia hid it from him. I ached to ask, but fear—of hearing the wrong answer, of damaging what we’d finally rebuilt—held me back.

Vivienne stepped onto the deck, her linen dress swaying, smile shy but open. “Jennifer, got time to help in the garden?” she asked.

I swam toward her, grateful for the distraction. I’d known her as Dylan’s mother but there was so much I didn’t know about her. What shaped her? I climbed out, toweling off and threw on shorts and a shirt. “I’d love to.”

Vivienne’s garden was a masterpiece, roses and lavender spilling over sun-warmed stone paths. We knelt among the beds, her clippers deft, my hands clumsy but eager to learn.

She watched me for a minute. “You seem distracted, sweetheart. Is it the wedding? Or something deeper?”

I hesitated, putting down my clippers. “Just... figuring out how much of the past belongs in the present.”

Vivienne nodded with understanding. “The past has its place at the table, but it shouldn’t take more than one seat. Not when you’ve worked so hard to create something new.”

I glanced up, the scale of the estate suddenly looming. “What was it like growing up here?” I asked.

Her smile wavered. “Quiet. I was an only child, swallowed by this huge house. My parents’ rules—society, wealth—left little room for me.” Her voice softened. “Harlan’s big personality pulled me out of my shell.”

I nodded, imagining what that might have been like for her. “What happened to your parents?” I asked gently.

She was quiet for a moment. “Gone young. Left me this place and all the things that could never replace them. Thankfully, I had Harlan.”

Neither of us spoke for a moment, both lost in our thoughts.

A shiny frog, green as an emerald, shot from the lavender bed.

I yelped, flailed, and landed on my ass, dirt smudging my shorts.

Vivienne gasped, then burst into restrained laughter, her shy poise dissolving as she clutched her clippers.

“Jennifer, are you okay?” She offered a hand.

I took it and scrambled up, laughing, cheeks flushed.

Vivienne caught her breath. “Those frogs—I’d flee from them as a girl and they seemed to enjoy chasing me.

” Her smile softened. “Dylan, though—he’d pick up the big ones, grinning and naming them.

If I wasn’t careful, one would end up in the house in his room.

Perhaps we should have gotten him the dog he asked for. ”

Dylan wanted a dog? That revelation warmed my heart and it was easy to imagine us adding one to the family we planned. Adding it to our forever.

“Vivienne,” I said, brushing dirt from my legs, “Dylan gave me a frog once, a wishing frog.”

“What’s that?”

“A trinket he bought me in Venice. It opens—he wrote instructions inside. He joked it had magical powers. Back then, I didn’t put a wish in it. But he kept it all these years, and when we reconnected, we both made a wish and put it inside, but we didn’t show each other.”

Her eyes lit. “That’s beautiful.”

A huge smile spread across my face. “When we finally opened it, we’d both written the same wish—forever.”

She stilled, eyes misting. “You wrote the same thing without knowing?”

I nodded, emotion thick in my throat. “When he gave it to me, I thought it was just a silly gift. Something sweet and ridiculous. I didn’t realize it was a promise—to me, maybe even to himself. Neither of us was ready the first time, but we’re ready now.”

Vivienne’s gaze held mine, bright and steady. “I’m so happy for both of you.”

“Our relationship is even better now than it was before. So good it’s a little scary.”

She put her clippers down, her hand resting over mine.

“Loving hard is always scary, but it’s worth it.

You can’t dip your toe in—you have to dive in and hope the person you love dives in too.

” Her eyes glistened. “And Dylan has, for you. You bring out the best in my son, Jennifer. You always have.”

I hugged her tightly.

We settled back to gardening, Vivienne’s stories from Dylan’s childhood making the house and her gardens come alive.

Despite everything, she and Harlan had stayed together and created a wonderful life.

No, they weren’t perfect, but their love for each other and Dylan shone through in every story she told.

Later, I sank onto a poolside lounge chair, the sun high, and found myself replaying the day Mark—not Dylan—had come to see me. It hadn’t been a prank. He’d asked all the questions I’d imagined Dylan might have asked.

Why hadn’t Dylan come to me? Why send his twin—a twin he wasn’t close to? Did the past matter if we were solid now? Did making it through to the other side matter more than how you got there?

Did Dylan even remember the switch?

Should I push him—or try selective amnesia myself?