33. Chapter 32
J enna
A few days later, Jenna found herself sitting in a small, tidy office across from Dylan's teacher. Mr. Carmichael was an older man with a thoughtful face, his wire-rimmed glasses slipping down his nose as he reviewed Dylan's academic records.
"I appreciate you coming in, Ms. Bradshaw," he said, setting the file aside. "Dylan is a bright boy, but his work has been inconsistent. Given everything he's been through, that's understandable."
Jenna's phone vibrated in her bag. She glanced at the screen-Troy: Good morning.
She ignored it for now and nodded at Mr. Carmichael. "I know this year is important. His GCSEs are coming up, and I don't want him to fall behind."
Mr. Carmichael steepled his fingers. "He's capable, but he needs stability. He's been struggling with concentration, and I suspect he's carrying a lot of worry about his future."
Jenna sighed. "I'll talk to him. Make sure he knows he's not alone in this."
The teacher gave her a small smile. "That will help more than you know. A little reassurance goes a long way."
As Jenna walked out of the school, another message popped up from Troy: Lilly said she misses you .
He had sent more messages in the last week than he had in twenty years of marriage .
That evening, she was in the kitchen, stirring a pot of spaghetti sauce while Dylan sat at the table, his books spread out in front of him. He had barely touched his work, instead fiddling with the edges of his notebook.
Her phone buzzed again.
Max: Hi. How are you?
Jenna sent a polite reply and turned her attention back to Dylan.
The messages from Troy kept coming-too little, too late.
A simple ' hi ' in the morning, a ' goodnight ' at the end of the day, messages about Max and Lilly as if nothing had happened.
Jenna found them more frustrating than comforting.
She spoke to Lilly once and continued to send her short messages regularly, but Max's attempts at small talk felt shallow.
Then, there was Margaret. Jenna had opened a message from her expecting something neutral, but instead, it was a scathing remark-one that cut too deep to ignore.
It's almost tragic how desperate you are to belong somewhere you never did.
No matter what you do, Jenna, you'll always be that unwanted little girl from nowhere - too common, too plain, too much of nothing to ever fit in.
I expect an apology for that outrageous behaviour at the dinner party.
Without hesitation, she blocked her, exhaling sharply as she put her phone down. Some people , she decided, were not worth engaging with. Maybe Margaret deserved some laxative in her pudding too. Or a horse's head in her bed.
Shaking off her dreams of vengeance, Jenna came back to the present.
"You okay?" Jenna asked Dylan, glancing over as she added a pinch of salt to the sauce .
Dylan sighed. "I don't know. I keep trying, but it's like my brain doesn't work properly anymore."
Jenna turned down the heat on the stove and leaned against the counter. "You know, that's not unusual. Stress does that. Grief does that. And trying to force it just makes it worse."
Dylan rubbed his temples. "I just don't want to fail my GCSEs."
Jenna picked up the wooden spoon and waved it at him playfully. "You won't. You're too stubborn to fail."
That earned a small smile from him. "Stubborn?"
"Oh, absolutely. Stubborn enough to keep going even when things are hard. Just like Sasha. And that's a good thing."
Her phone vibrated once more.
Troy: Goodnight.
She stared at it for a moment before locking the screen.
Dylan exhaled, looking down at his books.
"I don't even know if it matters. I don't even know what I want to do."
Jenna sat across from him. "Well, what interests you?"
Dylan hesitated, then shrugged. "I like building things. I always have. When I was little, I used to spend hours with Lego, making these crazy cities. I liked figuring out how everything fit together."
Jenna raised an eyebrow. "That sounds like an architect in the making. Or maybe a production engineer?"
Dylan looked away, embarrassed. "Yeah, well... that's a big job. Smart people do that."
Jenna reached out, lightly tapping the side of his head. "Smart people like you? "
He rolled his eyes, but there was a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "You really think I could do that?"
"I know you could," Jenna said firmly. "And if that's what you want, we'll find a way to make it happen."
Dylan looked at her, something flickering in his expression-hope, maybe. "Thanks, Jenna."
"Anytime, kid."
For the first time that night, Dylan picked up his pen and started to write. And this time, Jenna knew he wasn't just going through the motions. He was planning his future.