Grief makes men reckless. Insecurity makes women loud. And composure? Composure makes people dangerous. Shea sat still while the room shifted around her. Jason was bleeding pride. Kayla was bleeding ego. Nobody noticed Shea was bleeding patience. The thing about public tension is this, it doesn’t ask permission before it exposes what’s been festering. And this time? Nobody’s walking away untouched.
A fractured truth shakes Serenity’s foundation as secrets unravel across two households. While parents confront the past, someone else quietly prepares to change the future.
Old wounds surface, unspoken truths simmer, and timing proves cruel. Shea finds herself balancing professional boundaries and buried attraction, Jason confronts grief he’s long avoided, and Kayla arrives carrying a humiliation she refuses to name. When an unexpected presence walks through the door, restraint fractures—and what was meant to stay buried threatens to erupt in plain sight.
Some connections don’t need explaining. They just show up, sit beside you, and refuse to leave when the truth gets uncomfortable.
A grounded morning. A petty interruption. A consult that changes the temperature of the room. Capturing Shea: Chapter 2 is about intention, grief, boundaries, and the moment you realize something has shifted.
The past finally speaks. And no one walks away untouched.
Shea Johnson has mastered the art of capturing other people’s moments, joy, grief, love, without ever slowing down long enough to tend to her own. Set in a small town heavy with history and unspoken weight, Capturing Shea begins before the romance, before the disruption, right where the stillness lives.
Peace is fragile when secrets are starving. This chapter sits at the intersection of restraint and rupture , where control slips, loyalty is questioned, and the weight of unfinished business presses in from every direction. Some calls don’t reconnect people. They reopen everything.
A raw recounting of the first places I broke… the silence, the secrets, the hands that stole my childhood, and the walls I had to build to survive it. This piece unpacks the kind of pain that grows with you, shapeshifts with you, and teaches you survival before you ever learn childhood.
Everything comes full circle in this chapter. Old wounds resurface, silence breaks, and the truth—raw and unfiltered—finally walks into the room. What happens when the past you buried shows up wearing your father’s face?
When you excuse someone’s harmful behavior, you don’t erase the trauma, you deepen it. “Don’t Gaslight My Scars”confronts how families and society make pain more palatable by rewriting the truth, and how those justifications keep the wound alive long after the moment has passed.
Hey Loves! Come on in and take a load off, let’s unload this topic with a microscope, with care, but also with the level of audacity it needs. This week hit different, for me that is. You ever had a person you held close, that you genuinely cared for, loved, met them with vulnerability and … Continue reading True Accountability: Holding the Mirror Straight, not Angled. (TABIT)
Syn drove her Camaro like she was auditioning for Nascar. Serenity gazed out of the window, tears spilling freely down her face. Her phone buzzed- him. Just like the first night they met,his timing was right on cue. Bentley: Hey there gorgeous.Been a few, hope I didn’t do anything to run you off, lets hangout … Continue reading Serenity’s Bliss (Part 8)
I wanna write you…but truth is—I damn near wanna fight you. Wanna scream your name so the whole block hears it,then block you so I ain’t gotta see you. I got a million words sitting on my chest,but every time I let ‘em loose,I regret it.So I choke ‘em back.Silence.Hell—what’s one more day? But then … Continue reading Love & Rage
I didn’t need the monitors to tell me.The room changed before the numbers did—the air grew still,like the walls themselves were holding their breath. Her chest rose once more,then not again.Her head tilted to the left,and in that single, final motion,something inside me split in ways I can’t name. It wasn’t just the sound of … Continue reading The Silence of Deaths Echo
Kae Jaye The Writer 