Trisha strolled through Hyde Park, utterly charmed by its vastness amidst the city bustle. With the sun grinning down like a Cheshire cat, the park buzzed with activity – locals and tourists mingled, children played, and tourists whizzed by on rental bikes like colorful streaks of confetti. Amidst the kaleidoscope of blooms, Trisha paused to admire the playful squirrels darting among the trees, feeling the sun’s warm embrace on her skin.

As she watched one particularly industrious squirrel, busy burying a nut, Trisha couldn’t help but grin. Taking a sip from her trusty water bottle, she soaked in the eclectic mix around her – nannies from far-flung corners of the globe tending to giggling children and a group of friends in chic black hijabs sharing laughter over a picnic spread fit for a magazine shoot.

Suddenly, Trisha’s phone chimed like a cheerful melody, and a grin spread across her face – it was her mother calling. “Hey, Mom?” Trisha answered, finding a quiet spot on an empty bench.

“Trisha, darling, how’s my little Londoner?” her mother’s voice bubbled over the line.

“Mom, I’m at Hyde Park, and it’s like a scene from a movie. I half-expect Hugh Grant to come walking past,” Trisha chuckled.

“Well, aren’t you just living your best life? You’re like a post-divorce poster girl,” her mother teased.

Trisha laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment, Mom. But seriously, how are you doing?”

“Oh, you know me, darling, planning my next escapade like a true jet-setter. I’ve got a sightseeing bucket list longer than the Thames! It’s exhausting,” her mom replied with a chuckle.

“Ah, the joys of retirement,” Trisha quipped. “But seriously, Mom, you’re an inspiration. You’re living life on your terms.”

“That’s right, Trish. Happiness is an inside job, and you’ve got to be your architect. Speaking of happiness, I may have slipped a little extra pocket money into your account,” her mom confessed.

“Mom, you’re a legend! But seriously, you didn’t have to do that,” Trisha protested.

“I know, but I’m your mom; it’s my prerogative to spoil you rotten. Consider it a little insurance policy for those rainy days,” her mom insisted.

Trisha couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Mom. You’re the best!”

“Take care, darling. And don’t forget to live a little,” her mom said warmly.

“Bye, Mom,” Trisha replied, ending the call and tucking her phone back into her bag. She settled onto the bench, taking in the scene around her. Two little girls nearby were playing with their dolls, a scene that tugged at Trisha’s heartstrings, reminding her of simpler times.

Lost in thought, Trisha’s mind drifted to Luca’s text message. She felt nervous about dinner with him, but her inner voice urged her to seize the moment. Trisha rummaged through her bag with a decisive nod and replied to Luca. She was going to have dinner with him tomorrow, and she couldn’t wait to see where the evening would take her. With a spring in her step, she set off towards Kensington Palace, ready for whatever adventure lay ahead.