Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
JENSEN
“Matt, will you hand me the salad?” Megan asks, slathering butter on a thick slice of sourdough.
He passes it over, and then her eyes land on me.
“So, what’s new with Alley? Are you guys getting back together?
Is she coming to the Berkshires? And—because we’re all dying to know—have you, you know…
” She glances toward my niece and nephew at the counter, then lowers her voice. “Slept together?”
Megan texted Matt and me earlier asking if we wanted to come over for Sunday dinner. I’d just landed from Chicago a couple hours ago—barely had time to go home and shower before Matt showed up at my door ready to go.
Alley was with Scarlett all day, so I moved my flight up. Figured if I wasn’t seeing her, I might as well get back early.
I finish chewing my roast and wash it down with a swig of water.
“I don’t know if we’re getting back together.
I haven’t asked her about the Berkshires.
And not that it’s any of your business”—I stab my fork into a potato—“but no. We haven’t.
” I pop a carrot into my mouth and chew. “I’m hopeful, though. Soon.”
Megan frowns, letting out a sigh. “Dammit. I thought you guys were spending all this time together?”
“We are.”
“So, what—you’ve just been talking?”
“That’s kind of how it works, Meg.”
Matt chuckles, lifting his glass of Cabernet to his lips.
Megan shoots him a glare. “I know how it works,” she says defensively.
“I’m just surprised that’s all that’s happened.
I was hoping you’d be a little farther along in this whole win-her-back journey.
” She sets her fork down. “I really want her to come to the Berkshires. Are you asking her soon? Amber and I are booking spa appointments. I need to know if it’s for two or three. ”
“Jesus, do you hear yourself?” Matt says, thank God. “Do you realize how selfish that sounds right now?”
Megan scowls. I’m used to her being this way. Blunt. Selfish. But for fuck’s sake, read the room.
“Hey,” Kevin cuts in. “Not cool, man.” He glances at Matt, then turns to me. “She just misses her.”
Only Matt really knows what’s been going on. He’s the only one I’ve told about the kiss Friday night, and I texted him this morning about the whole meditation room situation. And Leo’s.
“It’s fine,” I say, mostly to Matt, then turn to Megan.
“I’m sorry I can’t give you a clear answer on the Berkshires.
I’d say just book it, and if she doesn’t go, you can cancel.
I’ll pay the deposit to hold the appointment.
But I don’t know…” I shake my head, frustration creeping in.
“I don’t know where she’s at with any of it. ”
Matt shifts in his seat. “Wait, I thought yesterday…” He trails off, hesitant. “I thought things were going well?”
Megan’s eyes narrow. “What do you mean yesterday? What happened yesterday?”
I shoot Matt a look before answering. “Nothing, Meg. It’s not a big deal.
” I exhale, then proceed to tell her anyway.
“She kissed me. Invited me to Leo’s. Introduced me to her friends.
But…” I stare down at my empty plate and rub the back of my neck.
God, I don’t even know how to explain it.
“She hasn’t asked me anything. Not about rehab.
Not about my tattoo. She hasn’t told me she’s mad.
Hasn’t brought up the past at all. She acts like nothing happened, but she doesn’t trust me.
I don’t know what she wants… and I don’t think she does either. ”
I pause, running my hands over my face with a groan. “It’s fucking weird.”
They all gape at me.
“She hasn’t asked you about rehab?” Megan shakes her head. “That doesn’t sound like her. That’s, like, such a big deal. Such a huge thing in your life.” She picks up her wine glass, then sets it down hard. “So you’re not having sex, and you’re not even talking about the shit that actually matters?”
My face burns. Maybe I shouldn’t have told them that. This weekend was a huge win. I’ve been trying to shove all my fears aside, act like everything’s going according to plan. Been hyping myself up for weeks. But fuck, I’m tired of pretending this isn’t messing with my head.
Because it is.
My biggest fear is that she’ll suddenly pull away after all these steps forward. That she’ll never open up—never ask about rehab, or my rock bottom, or even tell me how she feels. I want her to know—about all of it. I want her to care.
I’m trying to trust the process. To be patient. But it’s hard not to let the doubt creep in.
I nod slowly. “Seriously.” My brows furrow. “I don’t know what it means. If she just isn’t ready… or doesn’t want to know. But we can’t move forward if she won’t talk to me.”
“Have you asked her?” Megan presses.
“No,” I admit. “I haven’t wanted to push.
I’ve brought stuff up, hoping she’d ask or say something, but she doesn’t.
She changes the subject.” I shrug. “Guess we’ll have to see.
This weekend was good. We really connected.
She reached for my hand a few times.” A low chuckle slips out. “Even called me babe.”
“Well, that’s great.” Megan offers a small smile. “Sounds like progress is being made.” She takes a sip of her wine. “So when do you think you’ll ask her about the Berkshires?”
“Fuck, Megan,” Matt says, laughing. “Give him a minute.”
“Just book the appointment, babe,” Kevin says gently. “He’ll let you know when he talks to her.”
“Fine. I will.” Megan presses her lips together “Sorry, little brother. I hope it works out. And not just for the Berkshires… For you.”
“Thanks, Meg. Appreciate that. And thanks for dinner.”
I stare at the stack of letters in my hand. I’m in my closet, and it’s well past one in the morning. I can’t sleep.
Tonight got to me. I’m not exactly sure why—Megan’s poking, my own insecurities—either way, my head’s a mess.
On the surface, it’s all wins—she reached for my hand, called me babe, invited me to hang with her friends. Even kissed me goodnight on Saturday.
But underneath it all, I feel the weight of the mountain I still have to climb.
Earning Alley’s trust again. Her refusal to talk about the past. The fact that she lives in Chicago now.
She has a job, a life, friends. She’s not just visiting.
And last night? She looked happy. She’s settling in. Making Chicago her home.
I should be feeling better. Hopeful, even. But the more I think about my time with Alley, the more confused I am. Does she think we’ll just go back to normal with a massive fucking elephant in the room? We don’t need to unpack every detail of our history, but to never talk about it? Ever?
I shuffle through the letters. I have no idea what half of them say. I was in such a raw, vulnerable place when I wrote them—every emotion imaginable flooding through me.
I’m not sure which version of me ended up on the page.
I get to the last one. Week eleven. That’s another thing—she still hasn’t read my letter. Week twelve is missing. I’d hoped she would’ve read it by now. That it might give her a push toward me.
Maybe she did and didn’t say anything. Maybe that’s why she’s been more open.
Or maybe she still doesn’t know what she wants, and I’ll be back in that damn lawyer’s office in a few weeks.
Shit. I press my fingers to my forehead, rubbing hard. I’m going to drive myself crazy.
I pull week six from the stack—November second. Two days after I found out she filed.
I grip the letter, swallowing back the nausea rising. I can’t go back to that headspace. To how I felt when I wrote this.
I’ve hit some lows in my life. Done some shit. Felt the worst of it. But that day? That day gutted me in a way nothing else ever has.
I would’ve rather been detoxing.
I let out a heavy breath. That’s not going to happen. I’m not the guy who wrote this.
To prove myself right, I slide my finger under the seal of the envelope and pull the letter out. My hands shake. I have no idea why. Maybe part of me’s afraid to confront my past.
Just like Alley.
I unfold the paper and read.
Alley,
Yesterday was the first time I’ve been clean and thought, I’d rather be dead.
That thought came right after Tobias and Nina told me you’d filed for divorce.
Don’t worry. I’m not planning to give you this letter.
Ever.
Because I’m too fucking angry.
I’m angry at everyone today. At Tobias. At Nina. At whoever the fuck is in charge up there, the universe, God, fate. I don’t know. And I don’t care. I hate them all.
I’ve spent the past month doing everything they’ve asked of me. Surrendering. Trusting. Writing my inventory. Owning my shit. Digging into the ways I’ve hurt people. Clinging to the idea that something greater could help me find peace.
Yeah. Fuck that.
Just when I started to believe in something again… you gave up on me.
It feels like I was halfway up the fucking mountain, finally breathing, and you shoved me off the edge.
I’m mad at you, Alley. God, I’m so fucking mad at you.
I’ve never been mad at you before.
Not when you yelled at me. Not when you flushed my pills. Not even when you’d tell Matt shit I’d done. I wasn’t mad. I deserved all of that.
But today?
This broke me.
You walked away.
You filed.
We were the one thing I always believed in.
I know I hurt you. I know I fucked up. And I’ll probably never fully understand how deep that pain goes, especially from your side.
But Jesus… you’re just going to walk away?
After everything we’ve been through? After knowing how goddamn good we are together? How good we could be again?
I need you to hear me right now. Really fucking hear me.
You are the ONLY one for me.
Since the moment I saw you, since I woke up after surgery and saw your face, I haven’t thought about anyone else. Not once. Not in passing. Not in private. Not even in here, when I’ve been more alone than ever.
Not when I was spiraling. Not when I was using. Not now.
I’ve never wanted anyone else.
And I never will.