5. Chapter 4
A few days later
"Do you need help with that, love?"
The deep, lilting tones of a Welsh accent broke through the bustle of the Saturday market. Jenna turned, her hands full of fresh produce and a bag slipping precariously from her shoulder.
Callum stood there, hands in his jacket pockets, a bemused smile on his face.
His voice carried the warm cadence of home, a sound Jenna hadn't realized she'd missed until she heard it again.
It had been a couple of weeks since they met in the coffee shop but Jenna was a regular at the market.
Though it felt disloyal to Troy, she hoped to run into Callum again.
There was a spark of connection which had been missing in her life for too long and one taste of it had her craving for more.
"I-uh-" she stammered, caught off guard. "Actually, yes. That would be great."
Callum stepped forward, deftly taking the heavier bags from her arms as though they weighed nothing. He nodded toward a nearby bench. "Why don't we set these down before you end up buried under apples and carrots?"
Jenna followed him, her lips twitching into a reluctant smile. "Thanks. I didn't realize I'd bought so much until I tried carrying it all at once. "
"Market stalls will do that to you," he said, his grin widening. "You see one thing, then another, and before you know it, you've got enough veggies to feed an army."
His words, rich with the rhythm of the Welsh valleys, sent an unexpected wave of nostalgia through her. She sat on the bench and tucked her hair behind her ears, watching as Callum arranged her bags beside him with an almost comical level of precision.
"Do you visit often?" she asked, trying to sound casual.
"Not really," he admitted, leaning back with an easy posture that somehow made him seem even taller. "I'm just here visiting a mate for the weekend. Thought I'd take a look around while he's off playing rugby with his kids. And you?"
"I live here," Jenna said. "Have for a while now."
"I figured that the last time," Callum said, his eyes glinting with quiet amusement. "You've got that Brighton look about you-practical shoes and a bag full of organic kale."
Jenna laughed, the sound surprising her. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"As you should," he said, his voice softening slightly. "But I bet you haven't lost all your Abergele ways. You don't sound quite like a local yet."
Jenna tilted her head, studying him. "You're good at this, aren't you? Figuring people out."
He shrugged, his broad shoulders shifting beneath his jacket. "It's a skill. Comes in handy when you're in my line of work."
"And what's that? "
"Counsellor," he said simply, his expression shifting to something more serious. "I work with kids, mostly. Foster care, troubled teens. The ones who fall through the cracks, you know?"
Jenna felt a stirring of interest , a familiar pang stirring just beneath the surface. "That's... important work."
"It is," Callum said, his tone quiet. "Not always easy, but it's worth it. Someone's got to look out for them."
She nodded, her mind flashing back to her own days in foster care. The years she'd spent bouncing from one house to another, never quite belonging, never quite wanted. She wondered if she would've turned out differently if someone like Callum had been there back then.
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the sounds of the market swirling around them.
Jenna found herself glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, taking in the strong lines of his jaw and the faint crow's feet at the corners of his eyes.
He was handsome, she realized, in a way that felt effortless-grounded.
"You've got that look about you now," Callum said suddenly, breaking the silence.
"What look?" she asked, startled.
"The look people get when they're thinking about something heavy."
Jenna hesitated, the truth hovering on the tip of her tongue. But she held back, offering a small smile instead. "Just tired, I guess."
Callum didn't press, though she could tell he wanted to. Instead, he stood and picked up her bags, his easy smile returning. "Come on, let's get these to your car before you disappear under another pile of kale."
Jenna laughed again, the sound lighter this time, and followed him through the market .
As she bid him goodbye, a thought occurred to her.
As much as she loved her husband, she could understand how women wandered into affairs. Sometimes neglect is a powerful aphrodisiac.