55. Chapter 54
J enna
Jenna's heels clicked against the pavement as she walked back to the house.
The balmy summer afternoon wrapped around her like a warm embrace, the scent of jasmine lingering in the air.
Her mind was a whirlwind, tangled in thoughts she didn't want to untangle.
She had promised Troy twenty weeks. Twenty weeks to figure out if there was anything left to salvage.
But now, with each step back home, she felt the threads of obligation loosening. Indecision set in.
She climbed the porch steps, her fingers tightening around the key. As she pushed the door open, she caught sight of Troy standing at his doorstep, watching her. His posture was tense as if he had been waiting for her to look back at him.
Jenna ignored the pang of familiarity, the way his presence still had the power to send a ripple through her resolve. She walked in without acknowledging him, closing the door behind her and locking out whatever it was he had been hoping for.
Inside, the house was quiet. Peaceful. It was a silence she had come to relish.
No more strained conversations, no more waiting for a man who had long since stopped choosing her.
She had begun to love the single life. Sleeping in without guilt, eating whatever she wanted without the pressure of expectations.
She didn't have to stress about in-laws, or about whether her husband was thinking about another woman.
If he was, he was. It didn't matter anymore .
Jenna hung her keys in the keyholder and happened to see her own image in the hallway mirror.
She ran her fingers through her hair, absently noting the strands of silver that had started appearing near her temples.
She had stopped covering them up. Stopped scrutinizing the fine lines at the corners of her eyes.
Stopped sucking in her stomach whenever she caught her reflection.
Her bum was a little bigger than she would have liked, but she didn't care.
She liked this new version of herself. A woman who had left a bad situation and found that she could stand on her own just fine.
No messages from Troy so far. He seemed to be giving her space. Good.
She had to cook, but the thought of putting in any effort exhausted her. Yesterday's chicken rice and salad would do just fine. But first, the one place where time slipped away-her studio.
Jenna stepped into the room, inhaling the faint scent of charcoal and paper, the pungent odour of linseed oil and paint.
Her latest work-a charcoal drawing of Maisie, Grace's daughter, feeding the swans-sat unfinished on the easel.
She settled onto the stool, her fingers itching to bring the scene to life.
An hour passed in a blink, lost in the familiar rhythm of shading and softening lines.
When she finally looked up, the house was still quiet.
Almost time for Dani to get back from school.
She moved to the kitchen, pulling vegetables from the fridge, chopping with the mindless efficiency of habit. Her mind wandered next door. As she diced carrots for soup, the front door creaked open.
"Jenna, someone left this on the doorstep." Dani's voice was curious, a package wrapped in brown paper cradled in her arms .
Jenna wiped her hands on a dish towel before taking it, a small note slipping to the floor as she did.
Dani leaned against the counter, watching expectantly as Jenna unwrapped the package.
Inside, a small bouquet of daisies tied with a string.
Beneath them, a set of brushes-pristine, elegant, housed in a leather roll that smelled of new beginnings.
She lifted one of the brushes, testing the weight between her fingers. The bristles felt like silk, firm yet yielding, the copper ferrules sturdy against the delicate wood. A high-quality set, something an artist would choose for themselves. A flicker of pleasure strummed through her.
Dani retrieved the fallen note, handing it over with a smirk. Jenna hesitated before unfolding it.
Hope you like the gift -Troy.
Dani let out a low whistle. "Ooh, someone has an admirer."
Jenna forced a smile, though something in her chest felt unsettled. The brushes were perfect, too perfect. Thoughtful in a way that felt like an intrusion. Like an apology she hadn't asked for.
Later that afternoon, her phone buzzed. Troy again.
Did you like the gift?
Jenna stared at the screen for a long moment before typing a stilted response.
Yes, thank you.
No more. No invitation for conversation. Just acknowledgment.
Not five minutes later, another message lit up her screen.
Would you like to go out next week?
Jenna sighed, but this time, it wasn't Troy's name on the message. It was Adam .
Jenna: I don't know. Things have been... complicated.
Adam: I figured. How's everything with Troy? How is the divorce proceeding?
Jenna: He moved in next door. Said he wanted to try. I am giving him 20 weeks. I think I regret it.
Adam: You knew it wouldn't be easy.
Jenna: I just don't want him to think there's hope. I'm actually happy. I like my life.
Adam: And that's what matters. But do you still want to meet? No pressure, just friends.
Jenna: Yeah. I could use a friend.
The Next Day
Jenna sat in front of her laptop, waiting for Dr. Patel to appear on the screen. Her sessions had become routine, an oasis of tranquility after Sasha's death. The screen flickered, and Dr. Patel's warm face appeared.
"Jenna, how are you?"
Jenna exhaled, giving a small smile. "Better. Things are changing. Max is remorseful. He calls often now. Lilly and I have found common ground with our art, and I love taking on a mentor role. We've grown closer."
Dr. Patel nodded. "That's wonderful to hear. What else has been on your mind?"
Jenna hesitated for a moment before sighing. "Troy moved next door. And I don't know how I feel about it. It's been... complicated."
Dr. Patel's eyebrows lifted slightly. "That must be a lot to process. How has that change affected you? "
Jenna pressed her lips together. "I feel like I am on a rollercoaster. Sometimes, it feels like he's too close. Like I can't fully move on. And then other times, I feel... I want to try again with him. And that scares me."
Dr. Patel gave a thoughtful nod. "It's natural to feel conflicted. You spent years with him, and now there's this proximity again. Have you been able to work through what you want from this situation?"
Jenna sighed. "Not entirely. I also feel guilty about Adam. I have no reason to feel this way, but I do. I gave Troy twenty weeks, but I don't even know what that means anymore."
Dr. Patel smiled gently. "You're making progress, Jenna. You don't need to have all the answers today. What you do need is to keep focusing on what makes you happy and what gives you peace. Let's work through these emotions and see where they lead."
Jenna nodded. She still had decisions to make. But for the first time in years, she didn't feel afraid to make them.