Flora’s Guide to a Second Chance at Love and Life

Jackson brought Fiona straight home and had a table full of her favorite dishes ready, all tailored to her taste.

As Fiona glanced over the table, loaded with her go-to favorites, she was momentarily taken aback. Then she shot him a playful look, "How did you know I love all this?" Jackson paused mid-sleeve roll, lifting his eyes with a casual shrug, "Just a lucky guess."

Fiona pouted, clearly skeptical.

After dinner, Fiona lounged on the couch, pretending to watch TV, but her eyes kept trailing Jackson. When he got up, she couldn't resist following. "Aren't you going to show me around? I still have no clue what your place looks like," she said, moving a little closer to him.

Her breath brushed against Jackson's neck, making his Adam's apple bob slightly.

Fiona flashed a lively, inviting smile. "Show me around?"

Jackson couldn't say no to her, so he led her upstairs.

Opening the bedroom door, Fiona clicked her tongue in mild disapproval. It was just as she imagined: a strict black, white, and gray palette, a tad bland.

Yet, her eyes were drawn to a painting hanging directly opposite the door. She stepped closer, lost in thought as she examined it.

After a moment, she spoke with a touch of wonder, "This painting is amazing. You can sense the artist was feeling a sense of freedom while creating it."

Jackson's eyebrow arched, intrigued. His voice was a bit raspy as he asked, "You don't find it a bit stifling?"

Fiona shook her head, "Not at all. It screams liberation. I'd love to meet the artist. I have so many questions for her."

She seemed brimming with thoughts, ready to burst forth. Little did she know, Jackson was standing next to her, deeply moved.

A beam of bright sunlight slippednoveldrama

through the heavy curtains, casting

its sinned, she see

its glow on Fiona. Already delicate

radiate a halo of light.

So... was it really liberation?

Fiona continued exploring Jackson's home and noticed it was about the time for a midday break. She wasn't one for naps but knew Jackson, with his hectic lifestyle, might need some rest.

She flicked on the TV and waved Jackson off with a breezy gesture. "I'll just watch some TV. You go catch some sleep. Make yourself at home."

A grin tugged at Jackson's lips as he rubbed his temples, wondering whose home it truly was.

But he was indeed tired.

...

Jackson jolted awake from a nightmare.

In the dream, his mother stared at him with a ghastly, pale face, not saying a word. Jackson knew she was about to take her own life.

He couldn't stop her in time and

woke up abruptly, drenched in cold

sweat. A fierce headache gripped him as if his head was being pounded, almost splitting apart.

Sitting up, he took a moment to gather himself before remembering Fiona was still downstairs.

He slowly made his way down, intending to check on her, only to find Fiona curled up on the couch, fast asleep.

She looked serene, like a kitten with its claws and teeth tucked away.