30. Chapter 29
T roy
Troy sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed on the small envelope resting in his lap.
The word "Troy" was written in Jenna's delicate handwriting, and the sight of it made his stomach clench.
For a long moment, he simply stared, the silence of the room pressing in on him.
Finally, with trembling fingers, he reached for the envelope and peeled it open.
The wedding rings spilt into his palm; their weight far heavier than the gold they were made of.
Troy's breath hitched as he turned them over in his hand, his thumb brushing against the familiar grooves.
His eyes burned, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he might cry.
But the tears didn't come. Instead, a knot of unease settled in his chest, twisting tighter with each passing second.
She had no right to do this. No right to just leave like this. He had worked hard-so hard-to give her everything she could ever want. A beautiful home, financial security, a life most people could only dream of. And this was how she repaid him?
He pressed his white knuckles into his eyes.
This room was his safe place. Jenna was always so welcoming.
She was ready to try new things in bed even if she was not always comfortable with what he wanted to try.
And she had never turned him down. Never.
She never had a headache, like some of his friends' wives.
He just wanted to take her in and revel in her softness when they closed the door on the rest of the world.
Why had he been sleeping in the guest room recently ?
His grip on the rings tightened, his mind flashing back to the day he'd placed them on her finger.
Their wedding had been hurried, a shotgun affair orchestrated by his mother.
Margaret had insisted it was necessary to avoid any scandal, and Jenna had gone along with it without complaint.
His father was a silent disapproving presence in the background, though Jenna had signed the prenup without even really going through it.
I know she thought she was proving her love for me.
"It doesn't matter how big or small the wedding is," Jenna had said softly that day, her hand resting on his arm as they stood outside the church. "All that matters is us."
Troy had kissed her then, grateful for her calm demeanour, her ability to weather his mother's domineering presence. But now, as he sat in their empty bedroom, the memory felt like a cruel joke. Was it ever really about us? Or was it always just about what I could give her?
The door creaked open, and Max poked his head in. "Dad, you, okay?"
Troy shoved the envelope into his pocket, his expression hardening. "I'm fine. What do you need?"
Max stepped inside; his movements slower than usual. He lingered near the doorway, hesitating. "I just... I just wanted to say, I don't really get why Mum is doing this. It doesn't make sense. You've always looked after us. Given us everything."
Before Troy could respond, Lilly appeared behind Max, arms crossed.
"That's not the point, Max," she said, her voice firm.
She turned to their father. "Mum deserved more than just being taken care of.
She deserved effort. You know what I expect from Josh?
That he remembers the things that matter to me, that he shows up for me, that he listens.
Shouldn't Mum expect the same from you?"
Troy opened his mouth to argue, but something in Lilly's words hit him harder than he expected.
His mind suddenly flashed back to all the times Jenna had quietly mentioned that he had forgotten something-a recital, a dinner, a conversation she had looked forward to.
He had always made sure to remember their anniversary, but what about the other things?
The everyday things that mattered to her?
And what about the one time when he should have been there with her?
Max shifted uncomfortably. "I mean, she never really said anything, did she?"
Lilly scoffed. "She did. You just weren't listening. And after a while, she stopped saying anything at all."
Max hesitated, then added, "She never even calls you at work, Dad. Ever. She never wanted to bother you, and she never used to text you either." His voice dropped slightly. "She never even called to tell you she was going to Chester."
Troy frowned, his mind struggling to piece things together.
That was true. Jenna had always respected his work hours, never interfering or sending messages.
No, not really, she had only become like that recently.
Until a couple of years ago, she used to text all the time.
Why? He tried to dismiss the nagging feeling at the back of his mind that he was missing something, but it lingered.
He wasn't ready to admit that his daughter might be right, but the memories kept coming.
The hopeful look on Jenna's face when she had asked if he would be home early for dinner, the way it had dimmed when he told her he had a late meeting.
The invitation she had left on his desk for a gallery opening she was excited about, which he had forgotten.
He had always remembered their anniversary. But had he remembered her?
Later that evening, Troy found himself at The Black Swan, the familiar pub where he and his brother, Grant, had spent countless evenings over the years. The dim lighting and faint hum of chatter usually put him at ease, but tonight, the atmosphere felt suffocating.
Grant spotted him from their usual corner table and waved him over. "Figured you could use a drink," he said, sliding a pint across the table.
Troy sat down heavily, taking a long sip before setting the glass down with a sigh. "Jenna left," he said flatly.
Grant raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I heard."
"She'll be back," Troy continued, his tone defensive. "She's just upset. We will figure it out"
Grant gave him a long look. "Has she? Or have you just been ignoring the signs?"
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Troy snapped, his grip tightening on his glass.
"It means," Grant said calmly, "that you've had tunnel vision. Once you get on a project, to you, there's nothing else. You need to be aware of what's going on around you." He exhaled sharply. "You work like a maniac, Troy. I'm telling you, one day you're going to have a heart attack."
Troy scoffed, pushing away his drink, but Grant wasn't done. As Troy stood up to leave, Grant hesitated, then called after him. "There's one other thing that's been on my mind. "
Troy paused, turning back. Grant shifted in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know you don't see Lila that way, but I don't think her feelings are... platonic. She's not the little girl we used to know. Just... just be careful."
Troy stared at his brother, his pulse thrumming in his ears. He wanted to brush it off, tell Grant he was wrong. But something about the way he said it, the hesitation in his voice, made Troy uneasy.
Troy hesitated; eyes fixed on his drink. “It’s… there is something else. I did something-or rather, I didn’t do something-a few years back, and it’s been eating at me.”
Grant leans in, concern evident in his expression. “Go on.”
Troy exhales slowly. “It was when Lilly was twelve. Jenna got pregnant again-unexpectedly. I panicked. I mean, we didn’t plan for another child, and I wasn’t exactly thrilled.
You know how I am with surprises. I didn’t handle it well.
Then, just as I got used to the idea she… she had a miscarriage.”
Grant sets down his pint. “I’m sorry. That’s rough.”
Troy rubs the back of his neck, his voice tight.
“You don’t know the half of it. When it happened, I wasn’t even around.
She was alone at home and had to drive herself to the hospital.
By the time I got there, the doctor was already with her.
She shut down. And I’d already acted like it was just an inconvenience.
And by the time I got my head straight, it was too late. ”
Grant looks somber. “That’s… awful. Didn’t you ever talk about it?”
Troy nods, guilt lining his face. “She tried. She tried to broach the subject many times . I could see she was struggling, maybe depressed. But I didn’t know how to handle it.
So, I buried myself in work, pretended everything was normal.
Even told her we shouldn’t dwell on it-like it was best to move on. ”
Grant winces. “That must’ve hurt her.”
Troy stares at the table. “You think? She needed me, and I just shut down. I’ve been carrying this guilt ever since. And I don’t know how to react when she tries, all I can see all that pain in her eyes. Just makes me feel useless.”
Grant lays a hand on Troy’s shoulder. “Have you apologized? Really apologized?”
Troy looks up, tired. “I have avoided that conversation. I hoped it would just go away, that we can forget but now, I realize how badly I’ve let her down.”
Grant tilts his head sympathetically. “So, what now?”
Troy sighs. “I want to fix it. But I don’t know how. The guilt’s been piling up, and I’ve spent so long avoiding it. I’m worried she’s done waiting for me.”
Grant nods. “You can’t erase the past, but you can own up to it. Talk to her-really talk. Don’t push it away. Maybe get some professional help together if you need it.”
Troy nods slowly. “Yeah. I owe her that… I owe us that. It’s just… facing this means admitting how badly I messed up.”
Grant finishes his beer. “Better to face it now than never. If Jenna’s important to you-and I know she is-you’ve got to show up for her this time. It’s the only way forward.”
Troy manages a half-smile. “Thanks, Grant. I needed to hear that.”