Page 26 of Summer in Kentbury
Sin: Your point?
Lavender: Follow the in-flight instructions and put on the oxygen mask before you help anyone else. This, trying to save the company while you’re not doing that well is not exactly healthy.
Sin: It’s almost fixed. I can’t just stop mid-negotiations.
Lavender: But once you’re done, can you take a break?
Sin: I guess I can.
Lavender: And instead of trying to book other therapists to fix yourself, maybe do small changes that will last a lifetime.
Sin: You sound too wise for your age.
Lavender: Ha, I’m just imparting what Mom has taught me. Sometimes I even forget to follow it.
Sin: I hate to cut this conversation short, but I have a meeting.
Lavender: Of course you do. Talk to you later and also, slow down Sinclair McFolley.
Sin: :wink: emoji
Chapter Fifteen
Sinclair
Paul hasthis nonsense campaign about Kentbury being life-changing. I didn’t believe him when he first told me but now . . .
Ever since I stepped into that quaint town things have been completely unexpected. Like finally finding closure after my less than stellar marriage. Then getting the chance to reconnectwith my sisters. Even meeting Lavender and learning that there’s more to a relationship than just following what seems to be crappy examples from my parents.
Things were going well in Kentbury when suddenly I couldn’t keep my word to her, and after having lunch with the crochet club ladies, I had to drive back to Boston. My father was losing his ever-loving shit. He didn’t like that I had a plan to help the company—sell it to Barnaby and myself. My brother and I spent days explaining that he’s about to lose everything. Unsurprisingly, Dad threatened to sue me. Raffa refused to take the case and actually quit Dad’s legal team.
It took almost three weeks for us to convince our father to sell, a battle of wills that left us all exhausted and on edge.
While in Boston, I exchanged texts with Lavender. Some of them were just focused on her lighting company or how the camp was taking form, but really it was mostly just us checking in with each other. Since Raffa was in a good mood, he took a look at the LuxLumens case. He worked with Lavender’s lawyer so things could be expedited.
Mom, on her part, told me that if I was going to be in charge of Dad’s company permanently, I needed to find a wife. She made a remark that I had to ensure that it’s with someone who is willing to put up with me. Stating if need be, that we can have an open marriage so we both can be content. Now it makes me wonder if my parents have that kind of arrangement. That’s a thought that makes my stomach churn. No one wants to know what theirparents do when their relationships are, like in this case, questionable.
That was the one and only thing I respected about my father—his unconditional love for my mother. I guess even that wasn’t real. And that is the crux of the problem with love, the example of love that I was taught. Neither one of my parents were willing to crack their chests open to surrender their hearts. Yet, there are people like Lavender who expect it or the deal is over.
Lavender has made me believe that love has to be all or nothing. Deep, passionate, and unique—probably just like her. If I want to have something meaningful, I have to want it that way. Maddening and all-consuming, a love that sweeps me off my feet and leaves me breathless with its intensity.
This idea. This ideal of love she holds—it challenges every preconceived notion I’ve had. It makes me question whether the cautious, calculated approach I’ve always taken is really any safer or just a shield against the raw, messy reality of genuine emotion.
Lavender has this way of making the extraordinary seem attainable, of making the depth of emotion not just a fairy tale but something real, something tangible. And that’s what scares me the most—not that I might not reach her standards, but that I might finally allow myself to feel that deeply, that completely.
Love, I’m starting to realize, isn’t about holding back or keeping safe. It’s about those moments of madness, of total surrender to another person, thatcreate something truly profound. Maybe, just maybe, it’s time to stop calculating and start feeling.
And if love is to be maddening, then let it unravel me completely. But also, let it be with her, the one who takes my heart, the one who makes me feel alive in ways I never knew possible.
With a sudden sense of clarity, I push myself away from the railing, my heart pounding with a newfound determination. I need to hear her voice.
It’s been almost a month since I’ve been away, and I find myself standing on the terrace of my penthouse in Boston, the city lights twinkling below like a sea of stars. The cool night air caresses my skin as I pull out my phone and dial Lavender’s number, my heart racing with anticipation.
As the phone rings, I lean against the railing, my eyes fixed on the horizon, wondering what she’ll say, if she’s been thinking about me as much as I’ve been thinking about her. The distance between us feels like a physical ache, a longing that I can’t quite shake, no matter how hard I try to focus on the task at hand.
“Hi, Sin. This is a nice surprise,” she answers with a warm voice that reminds me of the morning we spent by the lake reflecting about life. It stirs a deep yearning in me to be back in Kentbury, though it’s her presence I miss even more.
“I was about to text you but thought it’d be easier to call since I’m going through some documents Raffa sent over,” I say, trying to sound casual despite the urge to see her, maybe ask her if we could do a video call instead. “I’m trying to multitask.”
