54. Chapter 53
J enna followed Troy through the long hallway, noting the niches in the walls, each holding a potted succulent, her eyes scanning the space with quiet appreciation.
The walls were a soft, warm white, the kind that glowed under the muted lighting.
Everything felt deliberate-earthy tones, clean lines, a sense of warmth despite the modern aesthetic.
The walls between the dining room, living room and kitchen had been knocked down, creating an open-plan living area in shades of white, beige and earthly browns.
A separate study remained tucked away at the back of the house.
Her breath caught as she noticed them-her paintings on the white walls.
A delicate watercolour of a mother cradling her child hung in the entryway.
Further down, a digital print of the London Eye, the colours vivid yet subdued, fit seamlessly against the wall.
And in the living room, the simplest yet most personal piece-a line drawing of Lilly skipping rope with her friends, captured in a moment of carefree joy.
They used to adorn the walls of their home in Brighton.
Jenna swallowed hard, her fingers flexing at her sides as she took it all in.
"It suits you," she said finally, her voice softer than she intended.
Troy turned to her; his expression unreadable. "It should. I showed the decorators our house. Told them I wanted the same colours, the same feel. It turned out well, I think. "
Her throat tightened. Their house. The one in Brighton. The one she had designed with her own hands, piece by piece, until it felt like home.
They moved through the space, past the sleek, open kitchen and up the stairs.
The master bedroom was sleek and modern, dominated by warm neutral tones.
A large bed sat against a textured feature wall, the ambient lighting casting soft shadows across its surface.
Jenna's gaze landed on something-a window seat with a built-in bookshelf nestled beneath it, the kind she had always dreamed of having, a perfect spot for reading and reflection.
Her breath hitched. 'You remembered,' she murmured.
She had mentioned it once years ago, but didn't think he had registered it.
Troy's eyes seemed to track her as she moved through the room.
A strange kind of energy seemed to flow between them.
'Yes, I did. You just thought I wasn't listening.'
Jenna tried to move beyond Troy where he was leaning against the door frame, but he didn't shift immediately, his presence filling the narrow space between them.
For a moment, they were close, the air between them shifting. Troy turned slightly, his broad frame inches from hers, and in the narrow space of the hallway, his arm brushed against her breast.
She inhaled sharply.
He looked down, and she looked up.
There was more grey in his hair now, she realized. In this light, his eyes appeared almost silver, framed by the lashes she had always envied. The years had deepened the angles of his face, lending it maturity and if anything, making him more striking than before .
The moment stretched, fragile and uncertain. A fission of something electric sparked between them, something that felt too much like nostalgia, like longing. Their breaths mingled. She could smell his woodsy aftershave.
Then the doorbell rang, startling Jenna into motion.
She stepped back, exhaling sharply as Troy cursed under his breath. He turned and made his way downstairs, his movements quicker, almost impatient. Jenna followed, her heart still beating faster than she wanted to admit.
At the door stood a woman Jenna didn't recognize. Pretty, polished, with an easy smile that had likely charmed half the neighbourhood already.
"Troy! I wanted to stop by and say welcome. It's not every day we get such an interesting new neighbour."
Troy barely concealed his irritation. "Harley, was it?"
"That's right," she said, tilting her head slightly, her gaze flicking toward Jenna with mild curiosity. "And you are?"
"My wife," Troy answered just as Jenna said "Jenna".
Jenna glanced at him, but his expression was unreadable. He turned back to Harley, his stance already dismissive. "It's been a long day. If you don't mind..."
Disappointment flickered across Harley's face upon learning Jenna was Troy's wife, followed by confusion and surprise at his rudeness. She blinked, clearly taken aback, but recovered quickly. "Of course. Maybe another time."
She left with one last lingering glance at Troy, which he ignored completely.
Jenna took a step toward the door. "I should get going too. "
"Stay."
She hesitated, searching his face for any sign of subterfuge, but he was already moving toward the kitchen. Against her better judgment, she followed.
The kitchen was the first truly familiar sight, filled with potted plants and a window herb garden that brought a touch of greenery to the space.
The layout, the colour scheme-even the type of kettle sitting on the counter.
He filled it with water, moving with surprising ease for someone who had never voluntarily participated in cooking.
"It's been a long time since I've seen you make tea," Jenna said, unable to hide the amusement in her voice.
Troy smirked, setting two cups on the counter. "The last time was probably when you were pregnant with Lilly."
A silence stretched between them. Jenna looked away, focusing on the steam rising from the kettle.
Troy cleared his throat. "You asked why it took so long for me to come."
She hadn't, not out loud, but the question had been there, unspoken.
He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I was a mess after you left. Depressed.
I needed help. And I needed to... fix some things before I came to see you.
Mostly myself. Mack found me someone who could help.
A psychiatrist." He paused, then added, "I also had an assessment. They think I have Level 1 autism."
Jenna nodded.
"I know a little about what is available in terms of resources for someone like me," he continued as if answering an unspoken question.
"I was lucky. My tutor was trained, and I had help with my speech.
They tell me I'm well-acclimatized. But there are things about myself I understand better now. And there's a lot to talk about."
Jenna swallowed, emotions warring within her. "And you want me to give you a chance?"
Troy met her gaze, his expression raw. "Yes."
She let out a slow breath. "Troy, I'm scared. That it will go back to the way it was."
He looked down at his hands, then back at her. "I know. And I know I don't deserve your trust right away. But I'm here. And I'm committed. The only thing that matters is you. I will wait as long as you want me to."
Jenna hesitated. "Even if I don't come back?"
His throat worked as he swallowed. "Then I try harder."
She studied him for a long moment. "What about your job?"
"I'll work from home," he said simply. "We have money.
And honestly? I like not having to socialize.
" A wry smile touched his lips. "Maggie's been moved to another department.
The new girl is terrified of me. Not sure why.
" He exhaled, rubbing his jaw. "I wanted to fire Maggie, but Mack convinced me to let her be demoted instead.
She has a disabled child, and this way, she's in a role with less responsibility.
" He paused before continuing, "As for Lila.
.. I never knew the depths she had sunk to.
I am so sorry. I am sorry I was the way I was.
There has never been anyone but you... ever.
The thought has never even crossed my mind. "
Jenna hesitated, then said, "Lila told me Margaret insisted on naming our daughter Lilly because she wanted her name to be similar to hers... just to show me my place. "
Troy's brows furrowed in surprise. "Don't be an idiot," he scoffed.
"The truth is, I know your real name is Gwenhwyfar, but you don't like to be called that.
It means 'fair one,' and Lilly means 'pure.
' I just thought they matched. Mom just thinks she chose the name.
You chose Max's name, and I chose Lilly's. I think that's fair."
Despite herself, Jenna laughed, shaking her head. The tension between them shifted, just slightly.
Despite herself, Jenna smiled softly, shaking her head. It felt like a burden had been lifted. The tension between them shifted-just slightly.
Then Troy’s gaze flickered, and his posture grew tense. He stepped closer, voice low.
“I know we haven’t really… faced what happened. The miscarriage. We never talked about what it meant to both of us. I can’t stop thinking about the way I just shut you out, how I wasn’t there.”
The memory still stung, raw and painful.
Troy reached out, his fingers sliding into her hair, gently pulling her forward and pressing his forehead to hers. The closeness made her heart stutter.
“A lot of things I’ve done are unforgivable,” he murmured, eyes closed as though in silent confession. “But I can’t change the way I behaved. All I can do is tell you I’m ready to talk. All of it-what it did to you, to us. We’ll face it together, if you’ll let me.”
Jenna closed her eyes, fighting the tears threatening to spill.
“It still hurts, Troy,” she whispered. “Sometimes I think it always will.”
“I know,” he said softly, pulling back just enough to see her face. “And I would like to tell you my side of things. If you would let me. ”
There was a moment of perfect stillness, each with their own thoughts. Then, Jenna stepped back.
She glanced at her watch. "I should go start lunch."
Troy reached out, stopping her gently. "Wait. I need to ask you something."
She turned back, curiosity flickering in her gaze.
"I saw you with a man yesterday," he said, his voice quieter now. " He kissed you. And it hurt so badly. I know you want to get separated, but please, can you... not. Not yet?"
Guilt twisted inside her, just as it had when she wanted to kiss Adam back. "Troy, we are getting divorced."
He met her gaze, desperation and determination mingling in his expression. "Please... twenty weeks. You can give me twenty weeks."
The moment stretched like a rubber band, ready to snap.
Finally, she whispered, "Okay." And for the first time in too many years, she wondered if maybe-just maybe-change was possible.