Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
It's been a week since Reeves packed his things into garbage bags and stormed out. Seven days of silence from him, seven days of Liam asking when Daddy's coming home, seven days of me realizing how much lighter the house feels without his constant anger simmering beneath the surface.
"He hasn't been in at all?" I ask Liza as we stock the bar together. The afternoon sun streams through the vertical blinds, casting long shadows across the pool tables.
"Not once." She shakes her head, sliding beer bottles into the bar fridge. "Greg's been covering everything. Says he talked to Reeves on the phone once, but that's it."
I nod, wiping down the already-clean bar surface. My hands need something to do while I work up the courage to tell her what I've decided.
"Liza, I need to tell you something."
She stops mid-motion, a bottle of whiskey halfway to the shelf. "Oh God. What now?"
"I'm leaving."
"Leaving me here alone with Greg and his conspiracy theories and constant bitching?" She sets the bottle down hard. "Jenna, no."
"I'm going back to school. Art therapy program starts in the fall."
Her face cycles through emotions—shock, sadness, then something that might be pride. "That's... that's amazing. But how can you afford it? Tuition's expensive, and with Liam's school..."
"Caine's helping me." The words come out in a rush. "With school, with Liam's therapy. Everything. It was his idea. I fought it at first, but he can be very persuasive.”
Liza raises an eyebrow. "Everything?"
"I'm selling the house too. It was always too much for us anyway—we only bought it because Reeves wanted to impress people.
I'll get a small condo, something manageable.
And I'll find another bartending job, just part-time.
Somewhere I'm not also the office manager and accountant and working fifty hours a week. "
She leans against the bar, studying my face. "You've really thought this through."
"I have to. For Liam. For me." I pause, meeting her eyes. "I can't keep living in this cycle, waiting for the next crisis. The gambling, the debts, the fights. I want something better."
"I'm happy for you," she says finally, though her voice wavers. "Scared shitless about being stuck here without you, but happy."
I reach across and squeeze her hand. "You'll be fine. You're stronger than you think."
She grins. "Plus, now I get to live vicariously through your hot billionaire boyfriend."
Heat floods my cheeks. "It's not like that."
"Sure it's not."
"Are you calling me a gold digger?"
"If the shoe fits." She laughs. "No, seriously… I am happy for you. If anyone deserves this, it's you."
I lean in for a hug, and it feels so good. No matter what, I know I'll always have Liza on my side.
The teacher's words hit me like a physical blow. "Oh, his father picked him up about an hour ago. He said you'd called and asked him to."
My legs nearly give out. "I never... I didn't call anyone."
Mrs. Patterson's face shifts from casual to concerned. "Mrs. Sullivan, is everything alright?"
My hands shake as I fumble for my phone and call Reeves. Straight to voicemail. Of course.
"Hi, you've reached Reeves..."
I hang up and dial again. Same thing.
The next hour blurs together—frantic calls to Greg, to Reeves’s father, to anyone who might know where he'd take Liam. My mind races through terrible scenarios. What if he's drinking? What if he's desperate about the gambling debts? What if he's planning to disappear with our son?
Twenty hours pass with no signs of Reeves or Liam, and I'm losing my mind. The officer on the phone is calm, professional. "Given your current domestic situation, we can issue an Amber Alert within the hour."
I'm about to say yes when something tickles the back of my memory.
Last month, Liam was bubbling over with excitement as he told me about the fishing trip he and his daddy were planning, his words tumbling together in that sweet, slightly unclear way he speaks when he gets worked up.
"Daddy says we're gonna catch the biggest fish at Uncle Jimmy's cottage!" he’d told me. Jimmy is an old high school friend of Reeves who has a place up north. Luckily, I've been there before, and I know exactly where it is.
"Wait," I tell the officer. "Give me two hours. I think I might know where they are."
The drive to Lake Sebago feels endless. My knuckles are white on the steering wheel, my heart hammering against my ribs. What if I'm wrong? What if they're not there?
But when I finally arrive and pull into the gravel driveway, I see Reeves’s truck. Relief floods through me so fast I nearly sob.
I find them on the dock—Liam dangling a fishing line into the water while Reeves spreads peanut butter on crackers. They look peaceful, like a normal father and son having a perfect afternoon.
"Mommy!" Liam jumps up, nearly knocking over their tackle box.
I scoop him into my arms, breathing in his little-boy scent. "Hey, baby. Having fun?"
Reeves stands slowly, his face a mask of guilt and shame. "Jenna, I—"
"You scared me to death." My voice cracks, but there's no anger in it. Just exhaustion and relief and something that feels dangerously close to forgiveness.
He breaks then, tears streaming down his face. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I just... I wanted one more day with him before everything changes."
I set Liam down and step closer to Reeves. "You should have called me."
"I know." He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. "I know I messed everything up. The gambling, Melissa, all of it. I just... I love you both so much, and I don't know how to let go."
My heart breaks a little. "Part of me will always love you, too. You're Liam's Dad. You were my first love, my best friend. But we can't keep hurting each other."
He nods slowly, his shoulders shaking as fresh tears spill down his cheeks, cutting tracks through the stubble on his face. His dark eyes are red-rimmed and raw with emotion, and I can see the sweet boy I once knew somewhere in that broken expression.
The weight of everything—our failed marriage, his gambling addiction—seems to crash down on him all at once.
His breath comes in shaky gasps as he struggles to compose himself, one hand wiping at his face while the other reaches out toward me, then falls back to his side as if he's not sure he has the right to touch me anymore.
I inch closer and press my head against his chest. He curls his arms around me and wraps me into a warm bear hug.
"I don't want to lose Liam," he whispers, his words shaky.
"You won't," I tell him. "We'll figure out custody," I say softly. "You're a good dad, Reeves. When you're not drowning in all the other stuff."
We hug harder still, and it feels like saying goodbye to a whole other life.
That evening, I stand at the stove stirring macaroni and cheese, my hands still trembling from the day's events.
The simple motion of the wooden spoon against the pot feels grounding, normal.
Liam sits at the kitchen table, coloring a picture of the fish he caught today—or rather, the fish he imagined catching, since they came home empty-handed.
"Mommy, why do you look sad?" His sweet voice cuts through my thoughts.
"I'm not sad, baby. Just tired." I force a smile and dump the pasta into a large bowl, steam rising around my face.
But I am sad. Devastated, actually. Seeing Reeves break down today, watching him say goodbye to our old life—it hits me that this is really happening. We're really over. And while I know it's the right thing, it doesn't make it hurt any less.
The guilt gnaws at me. Yes, Reeves gambled. Yes, he cheated with Melissa. But I drove him to that final breaking point. I'm not completely innocent in all this. I'm the one who shattered whatever was left of us. Reeves is many things, but he's not stupid. He knew I was falling for Caine.
Maybe he'd known for longer than I realized—seen it in the way I'd started carrying myself differently, the subtle changes in my demeanor when I came home from work.
The distant look in my eyes when I thought no one was watching.
The way I'd grown quieter during our conversations, more distracted, like part of me was always somewhere else. With someone else. With Caine.
My phone buzzes just as I'm setting Liam's plate in front of him. Caine's name lights up the screen.
"Hey," I answer, walking into the living room.
"How did it go today? I've been worried sick."
I tell him everything—finding them at the cottage, Reeves crying, our goodbye hug. My voice stays steady until I get to the part about Liam asking why I'm sad.
"Jenna, you did the right thing," Caine says softly. "You both did."
"I know, but..." I sink onto the couch. "Caine, I need some time."
Silence stretches between us.
"What kind of time?"
"I need to be alone. Just me and Liam. I can't jump from one relationship into another. It's too confusing for him, and honestly, it's too much for me."
"How much time?" His voice sounds strained.
"I don't know. Maybe a few months? I need to get my life sorted out, figure out custody, and get ready to go back to school."
"Jenna—"
"Please." The word comes out more desperate than I intended. "I'm asking you to give me space. No calls, no visits, no gifts. I need to prove to myself that I can do this on my own."
The silence that follows feels heavy, loaded with everything we're not saying.
"If that's what you need," he finally whispers.
"It is."
After we hang up, I stare at the phone in my lap, wondering if I've just made the biggest mistake of my life.