Epilogue

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Jennie’s hand was in hers, because that's where it usually was nowadays. Even though Jennie had promised that she wouldn't expect her to go to events anymore, Lisa still found herself following her to most of them – not because Jennie would have minded if she'd said no, but because Lisa would have missed her while she was gone.

Besides, Lisa knew everyone now. Jennie’s people were her people, and she didn't have to feel a sick sense of dread whenever she walked into a gallery. If Zelena or Moe were there then she would do her best to avoid them, but otherwise she was content to float. Jennie would always be on the other side of the room shooting her a delighted smile whenever she looked for her, anyway.

Right at that moment, though, they were standing together with their fingers interlocked. It would have been a beautiful moment if Jennie hadn't been distracted by a painting that was giving Lisa a headache.

"It's really ugly," she whispered, and Jennie rolled her eyes.

"Be quiet."

"You're not seriously going to spend money on that, are you?"

"I'm considering it. The more you say you hate it, the more tempted I am." Jennie had a wicked smile on her face, and Lisa had to resist the urge to barge her into the flimsy canvas.

"As long as I never have to see it again, I guess."

"Actually, I was thinking of hanging it up in my bedroom."

Lisa took a horrified step back. The painting was made up of sludgy browns and the kind of greys that always reminded her of expired meat, and she knew Jennie was bluffing about wanting it. She also knew, however, that she was stubborn enough to buy it just to spite her, no matter how hideous it was.

"I'll never, ever come round again if you do."

"You wouldn't be able to stay away from the under-floor heating for long," Jennie said. Annoyingly, she was right.

Lisa hadn't moved back in with Jennie again. Taking things slower this time round seemed like the smarter option – and besides, she had her own apartment now. An apartment that was small and cosy and felt weirdly like the home she'd been searching for her entire life. She had a bed with enough blankets and duvets piled up on top of it that even Jennie couldn't manage to steal them all when she deigned to sleep over, and by coercing Chaeyoung into helping her with promises of pizza and beer, Lisa had even managed to decorate the place without getting too much magnolia paint on the floorboards.

On the wall above her bed was a single picture. Its wooden frame was painted yellow, and on the piece of paper that was contained inside, there were six digits scribbled in black ink – eight, if you counted the pennies. Lisa looked up at them at the start of every day, and they reminded her of just how far she'd come.

Six months had passed since they'd fallen back into one another's arms on Jennie’s couch, and Lisa loved the fact that she could divide her week between her two homes – her own, and Jennie’s. It was coming up to Christmas again, and Lisa couldn't wait to build gingerbread houses with Jennie and her son in a couple of weeks.

Even if Jennie was being a total pain in her ass and thoughtfully looking at that painting like it was growing on her more and more with every second.

Lisa groaned to herself and turned to survey the room, immediately spotting Natalya on the other side of the gallery. She was dating a rich Russian art dealer – one who Jennie also hated – which meant she was usually at the events that Lisa found herself stumbling into. That was a great development, because whenever Jennie got lured into a conversation about whether cubism was making a comeback or not, Lisa could sneak off onto the terrace with a glass of champagne and laugh with Natalya over all the self-important people who were hovering in the next room.

so, do we like each other or not? // JENLISAWhere stories live. Discover now