60. Chapter 59
J enna
The morning after the gallery, Jenna had barely taken a sip of her coffee before the sound of footsteps thundered down the stairs.
Dani. With Dylan trailing behind, looking half-asleep and fully unimpressed.
Dani, of course, was grinning like she had just uncovered the world's best gossip. Dylan, meanwhile, rubbed his face, muttering something about ungodly hours and not enough sleep to deal with this nonsense.
"Good morning, housemates," Dani chirped, grabbing an apple from the counter and perching on the stool across from Jenna in her fluffy pink robe.
Jenna, who was in no mood for Dani's enthusiasm, narrowed her eyes. "What do you want?"
Dani beamed. "Oh, nothing. Just... Troy might have begged me to convince you to come to the artisan fair today."
Dylan groaned. "This is so embarrassing."
Jenna froze mid-sip. "Excuse me?"
Dani waved a hand dramatically. "Oh, don't look so betrayed. He caught me on my way back from school yesterday and practically threw himself at my feet."
Dylan snorted. "He asked you, Dani. Let's not rewrite history. "
Dani ignored him. "Anyway, he wants you to go. With me, of course." She gave Jenna an exaggeratedly innocent smile. "I am your chaperone ."
Jenna folded her arms. "Oh, for God's sake."
Dylan, now leaning against the counter with a bowl of cereal, chewed slowly and watched the exchange like it was his morning entertainment. "You are aware you could just say no, right?"
Dani turned to him with mock outrage. "Dylan. Where is the romance? Where is the drama?"
Dylan deadpanned, "Oh, it's here. I just hate it."
Dani turned back to Jenna. "So, what's it gonna be? You love artisan fairs. You love local art. You love handmade ceramic mugs that cost too much money but spark joy ." She leaned forward, voice conspiratorial. "And whether you admit or not, you don't hate Troy."
Jenna sighed, rubbing her temples.
She did love artisan fairs.
And, fine , maybe she didn't hate Troy.
But that didn't mean she wanted to get sucked into another one of his grand gestures.
"Absolutely not," she said firmly.
Dani smirked. "I already told him we'd be there."
Jenna gaped. " Dani! "
Dani grinned. "Oops."
Dylan, spoon mid-air, muttered, "I hate living here."
Sure enough, Troy was waiting by the entrance to the bustling market, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. His eyes lit up when he saw her. "Thanks for coming," he said quietly, trying for a smile .
Jenna refused to smile back. "I'm here with them, not you," she said curtly, nodding at Dani and Dylan. Then she walked past him into the market stalls.
Dylan observed the interaction with a lopsided smirk. "Tense," he muttered, reaching for Dani's hand as they followed Jenna deeper into the market.
The smell of cinnamon roasted nuts and sizzling street food filled the air, alongside vibrant colours of handmade crafts, jewellery, and paintings.
Jenna took her time exploring, pointedly ignoring Troy's presence whenever he drifted close.
She haggled for a ceramic mug, chatted with a potter about glaze techniques, all while Troy hovered in the background like a man stuck in no-man's-land.
Eventually, Dylan found them. He had disappeared for a good half hour, but now he sidled up, arms loaded with bags of trinkets. Dani trailed behind, shaking her head in exasperation. "He's buying random stuff- a carved wooden cat, some tie-dye scarves... I don't know."
"Why not?" Dylan said. "I like them. Besides, I’ve got money."
He shot an ambiguous glance at Troy, who was leaning against a lamppost. Jenna caught the tightness in Dylan's jaw, and she felt a pang for him-he'd lost Sasha recently, and the fostering papers that would officially make him part of Jenna's household had only just come through.
Tensions must be high. She also saw the half-healed bruise on Dylan's lip and wondered if it still hurt.
"How's everything going?" Jenna asked Dylan softly, stepping aside from the crowd. "School, okay?"
Dylan shrugged, refusing eye contact. "It's... whatever. "
Jenna let the subject drop. She didn't want to push too hard. Instead, she gestured to a stall selling old vinyl records. "Come on, let's check that out."
The fair was bustling, the scent of roasted nuts and fresh bread mingling in the crisp air. Jenna had successfully avoided Troy for the next twenty minutes, but of course, that didn't last.
She spotted him near a stall selling wooden carvings, his face lighting up when he spotted her.
"Took you long enough," he said, handing her a small ceramic mug.
Jenna eyed it warily. "What is this?"
"A peace offering."
She huffed. "You're very into peace offerings lately."
Troy smirked. "They seem to work."
Dani, ever the instigator, sidled up beside them, batting her lashes. "Aww, he got you a present ."
Jenna shot her a glare. "Dani."
Dylan groaned. "I'm going to need therapy after this."
They strolled around for another hour. Grace called Jenna's phone during that time, insisting that Jenna meet her at a nearby pub that evening. "You need a break," Grace declared. "We both do. And if you don't come willingly, I'll drag you away."
Jenna glanced at Troy-who was trying not to stare at her-and felt a swell of frustration. "Yes," she said into the phone, "I'm in desperate need of a break."
By the time they left the market, Dylan and Dani parted ways to go meet some friends, and Troy offered Jenna a ride as they had taken the bus.
She opened her mouth to refuse, but the memory of the last bus fiasco (where she was stuck for an hour with no seat) made her sigh.
"Fine," she muttered, climbing into the passenger seat.
They drove in tense silence, the hum of the engine the only buffer. Finally, Troy cleared his throat. "So, I spoke to Dr. Morgan-my therapist-yesterday."
Jenna shot him a quick, startled glance. "You have a therapist?"
He nodded, jaw tight. "Not something I went around advertising. But yeah, I do. I told him it feels like I'm pushing a boulder uphill trying to reach you. One step forward, two steps back. He said I should tell you that."
She exhaled, the confession pricking her conscience. "Why do you keep trying?"
A pause. Then, softly, "Because I still love you."
The words hung in the air, raw and unguarded.
Jenna stared out the window, the city lights blurring.
She remembered all the heartbreak, the cold nights he hadn't come home, the humiliations.
Yet she couldn't deny the subtle ache in her chest that whispered What if?
" How do you manage the crowd and the noise?
" asked Jenna. When Troy gave her a questioning look, Jenna continued, “With your autism and everything. ..it must be hard."
Troy said, "With practice and earphones. Yes, it is hard but I have had years to condition myself. "
Before she could muster a response, he pulled up to her house. "Thank you for not slamming the metaphorical door in my face at the market," he said, an attempt at a half-smile.
She didn't answer, just nodded and slipped out of the car and into her house.