Page 56 of Not Just Gal Pals

I’d written off holiday markets years ago as sanctuaries for tacky, overpriced trinkets and overwhelming crowds, so I hadn’t expected to find anything I liked at the Hudson Highlands Holiday Market. But I’d already picked up a nice serving platter for my parents’ Christmas present and, to my surprise, was actually enjoying browsing the booths run by local artisans. Although, how much of my enjoyment was due to the markets and how much was due to my company was unclear. Based on the past few weeks, Jenny’s company improved…well, everything, and her general positivity was infectious. That was one of the reasons her revelation last weekend had come as such a shock.

I’d wondered why she’d decided to stay in Sapphire Springs for so long, but I’d never expected it to be something like that. It killed me that I’d had no idea what she was going through. Despite following her on social media, I’d completely missed the story she’d posted a few weeks ago, refuting the allegations, and had stopped reading the comments on her posts some time ago after getting too riled up by the leering ones, so I’d missed the whole scandal.

Jenny picked up one of the prints. “Look, it’s Main Street! It’s a shame your clinic is just out of the picture, but there’s Novel Gossip and Builders Arms.”

I peered over her shoulder at it. The artist had perfectly captured Main Street’s essence.

“Wow, that is really nice.”

I examined the other prints, spotting the sculpture park we’d visited last weekend and the view from the top of Breakback Ridge, amongst many others. The colors were bright and bold, the designs were eye-catching, and they weren’t too expensive either.

The thought of having something on my walls that Jenny had chosen, especially of places we’d been together, filled my chest with warmth. They’d not only be reminders of the experiences we’d shared, but also of this moment. Of standing next to Jenny who, as usual, was looking gorgeous in a green coat, black jeans, and boots, intently examining the prints one by one and exclaiming as she spotted familiar locations. So many times recently, I’d wished I could commit moments with Jenny to my memory like film footage. Unfortunately, my mind didn’t work like that. But maybe these prints would help.

“I’m definitely better at appreciating art than doing it myself,” Jenny said, grinning at me, before turning back to the prints.

I chuckled. “Hey, you’re a surrealist master, remember? Up there with Picasso.”

Jenny elbowed me gently, shaking her head and giving me a smile that I wanted to see over and over again—but in real life, not on replay in my memory.

“You know what, I think I’ll get a few for the living room.”

Jenny’s face broke into an even bigger smile at my announcement, and my heart swelled with happiness. We spent the next few minutes picking out our favorites. Main Street, Breakback Ridge, the sculpture park, and Red Tractor Farm. All of them held memories strongly tied to Jenny.

However, as I paid, negative thoughts crept up, whispering warnings and sucking the warmth from my chest, leaving it tight and empty.

Choosing artwork for your living room together doesn’t exactly scream casual relationship, Blake. It’s more screeching, “Let’s call a U-Haul!”

Is it really a good idea to decorate your home with memories of a relationship that is doomed to fail?

How will you feel when she’s back in LA, and you’re on the couch, miserable and alone, surrounded by prints reminding you of Jenny?

With effort, I pushed the thoughts away. The prints didn’t need to be painful. What was that quote again? ‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. With “love” switched out for “liked a lot,” of course. Liked. Definitely not loved.

As we left the booth, I put my arm around Jenny, taking comfort in the curves of her body, which were already so familiar and reassuring, and her faintly floral scent.

Just live in the moment and enjoy this time you have with her.

“Do you want to grab a drink before we keep going? All this browsing is making me thirsty,” Jenny said, nodding at a stand selling hot donuts and drinks.

A hot drink sounded like the perfect way to stave off whispered warnings. We grabbed steaming cups of cider, sitting down on wooden crates they’d turned into makeshift seats.

“Olivia should have a booth here next year for her candles. They’d make perfect holiday gifts.” Jenny took a big sip of her cider.

I frowned, confused. “Candles?”

“You know, the candles she’s been making? The ones she sells in her store.”

Shit. I realized I hadn’t been to Olivia’s store for months. I’d been so preoccupied with work that I probably hadn’t been the best sister, friend, or daughter recently.

I nodded, not wanting Jenny to know what a terrible sister I was. “I’ve been meaning to ask. Any updates on the Bark4Treats thing?” I asked, keen to change the subject.

Since Jenny had told me what happened, I’d kept a close eye on her social media accounts, scrolling through the comments. To my relief, Jenny had posted a story on Monday night explaining that she didn’t have any association with Bark4Treats. It came across genuine and heartfelt, and based on the comments, it appeared to have been generally well received. However, to my immense frustration, Melanie93’s video was still up. I’d gotten the impression it hadn’t gained a lot of traction after the initial post, but who knew what kind of messages Jenny was receiving. Nausea rocked my stomach at the thought.

I’d asked Jenny how it was going on Wednesday night when she’d come over, bringing Thai takeout and a list of holiday rom-coms. She’d sounded cautiously optimistic that it wouldn’t inflict too much damage, but I’d held off asking about it again until now.

Jenny’s smile flickered, and I immediately wished I hadn’t reminded her about it. But when she spoke, she sounded upbeat. “It looks like it has died down. TikTok has stopped pushing the video, and it definitely didn’t take off in the same way the posts about my association with Ruff did. I spoke to Serena again yesterday, and she isn’t too worried.”

My chest suddenly felt lighter. “I’m so glad to hear that. What a relief.”