68. Chapter 67
T roy had always been good at giving gifts, but lately, he had made it a habit.
It wasn't about grand gestures-it was the small, thoughtful things that made Jenna's heart twist. A new set of premium paintbrushes was left on her desk with a note that read, "For the artist who forgets to take care of her tools.
" A collection of rare, beautifully bound art books that mysteriously appeared on her shelf.
Once, he even left her favourite chocolate-covered almonds tucked in her bag, knowing she would find them right when she needed them most.
He just kept going, always finding ways to remind her that he saw her, knew her, cherished her.
Max and Lilly had visited a few times, and their relationship with Troy had only improved.
The walls that had once been thick with distance were now starting to wear down.
Jenna's commissions were increasing, and her work was finally getting noticed.
When Troy suggested she let one of their developers work on her website and help with marketing, she hesitated.
But he had laughed, pulling her onto his lap, whispering, "My ultimate goal is to free up more of your time. I'm greedy, Jenna."
He wasn't working like he used to. Semi-retired now, Troy only took on certain projects and worked mostly from Chester. The idea of opening a branch there had been tossed around, but ultimately, he was happily avoiding the office, happy just being in her space.
Grace had become a good friend, and to Jenna's amusement, she had taken a liking to teasing Troy mercilessly.
Her comments always made Jenna blush, but it was nothing compared to the way Troy turned red.
"Damn, Troy, does your tailor cry tears of joy when he sees how well your shirt fits over those pecs?
" Grace teased, winking at Jenna. Troy turned beet red, sputtering as he tried to change the subject.
"You need to stop embarrassing me," he had grumbled one evening, only for Grace to laugh and double down.
"I wouldn't dream of it."
Jenna watched, entertained, as Troy grumbled into his drink while Grace smirked.
Dylan and Troy had become close, bonding over shared interests, and Dani had just won a local football match, her pride radiating through the entire house.
That evening, Jenna made an elaborate meal to celebrate-homemade pasta with a rich, slow-cooked ragù, garlic bread toasted to perfection, a crisp Caprese salad, and finally, tiramisu.
The moment Dani took a bite, she smirked. "Is there alcohol in this?"
"Only a little," Jenna replied innocently.
Dylan, fresh from the excitement of his model exam results, leaned back in his chair, grinning. "I'd like to say this meal makes up for all my suffering, but I think I deserve more."
"You get tiramisu," Troy said, giving him a pointed look. "Don't push your luck."
Dani snorted. "Dylan always thinks he deserves more. Maybe we should start charging him for emotional damages every time he whines about exams."
Dylan rolled his eyes. "I don't whine. "
Dani smirked. "Oh, please. You were wailing like a banshee last week when you couldn't figure out that physics problem. I thought we were going to have to call in an exorcist."
Dylan opened his mouth to protest, but at that moment, Dani leaned in and whispered something particularly outrageous. Whatever it was, it sent Dylan into such a surprised laugh that he accidentally snorted his milk through his nose.
Coughing and wiping his face, he groaned. "That was uncalled for!"
The table erupted into laughter, Troy shaking his head. "That's what you get for pushing your luck."
The teasing was easy, the laughter warm.
Troy had become their de facto father figure without anyone even realizing it.
Much later
The house had long since gone quiet, the warm echoes of the day fading into soft shadows across the walls. Upstairs, in the low lamplight of Troy’s bedroom, Troy and Jenna lay side by side beneath a soft linen duvet, their fingers gently entwined between them.
Neither spoke for a while, content just to breathe in the same rhythm. The intimacy wasn't in touch, but in the silence they could now hold together without fear of it splintering.
Jenna turned slightly, resting her head on Troy’s shoulder. “I’ve been thinking about her again,” she said softly.
Troy’s chest rose beneath her cheek, then slowly fell. He immediately knew who Jenna was talking about. “So have I.”
Jenna stared at the ceiling. “I used to think it was a boy. Now i think it was a girl, like Lilly. A little hellion. I used to dream about her. Sometimes I still do. I see her hands, tiny. Curled around my finger. But I never see her face. I don’t know if that’s worse or kinder.”
Troy didn’t speak, not at first. Then he said, “I think about the way I reacted. How I didn’t smile when you told me. How I didn’t even hold you when you started to cry.”
“You were stunned,” Jenna whispered. “So was I.”
“But I made you feel alone.” His voice cracked. “And then when it happened-God, Jenna-you drove yourself to the hospital. I wasn’t there. I can’t forgive myself for that. Every time I think about it, I feel like less of a man.”
She reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his. “I didn’t even call you until it was already happening. I didn’t want to hear you sound... disappointed. Like you were relieved.”
“I wasn’t,” he said, the words falling rough and honest. “It took me longer to come around, but I was starting to imagine it. A third heartbeat in our home. A new beginning. And then it was gone, and I-I didn’t know how to grieve with you. I didn’t know how to help you... and I saw you fading.”
Jenna swallowed hard. “I did fade. For a while, I thought I’d never come back.
” She took a shaky breath. “Claire noticed it first. Then Sasha. They were gentle, but honest. Eventually I went to see Dr. Patel, and... she was the first person who said it aloud. That I was depressed. That what I was feeling was real and not just weakness.”
Troy turned his head to look at her, pain flickering in his eyes.
“I needed medication,” Jenna continued quietly. “And time. And people who wouldn’t let me fall too far. I was surrounded, but I still felt hollow. ”
Troy drew her closer, his lips brushing her forehead. “I should have been the one holding you up.”
“You didn’t know how,” she said gently. “And I didn’t know how to ask anymore.”
There was a long silence. Then she added, “Reading about autism… it helped. I started to understand the way you process things. Why surprises shut you down. Why emotions sometimes overwhelm you in ways I never knew. You weren’t trying to be cruel or dismissive. You were… confused. Scared.”
He exhaled shakily. “I didn’t want to be scared. I wanted to be strong for you, and instead, I left you alone in the worst moment of your life.”
Jenna touched his face, her thumb tracing the line of his cheek. “You didn’t leave forever.”
Troy’s voice was barely a whisper. “I promise I’ll never let that happen again. Not like that. If something ever hurts you again, I want to be the first one who sees it. Who hears it.”
She closed her eyes. “I don’t expect you to be perfect, Troy. I never did. I just needed you to be present.”
“I’m here now,” he said. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
They lay in silence again, a silence that didn’t ache anymore. Instead, it held them-gentle, forgiving, real. They were not just sharing a bed. They were sharing the pain of a memory, and finally, lifting it together.