30. Chapter 30 Breadcrumbs
Dylan: December
Sitting here with Jenna again, same place, same time, almost like it’s become routine.
Except today is supposed to be special. The last day of the year.
A fresh start only a few hours away. But she's staring out at the water like she wishes she could disappear into it. It’s been weeks since that first day at the bridge.
And somehow, the longer it lasts, the harder and more complicated it gets.
She hasn’t said much today, and the silence is starting to mess with my head. Just like the growing distance between us. But we both know this can’t last, even if we won’t say it.
“What’s going on?” I ask, keeping my voice light. Although I’m not sure I want the answer. “You’re a million miles away.”
She turns away, and something tells me I’m not going to like what she says next.
“Spit it out,” I push. I know there’s something she’s itching to say.
Her gaze meets mine again. “I think I’m addicted to you. To the way you make me feel. And I have no idea how to let you go,” she says quietly. “Not even sure I want to.”
My pulse picks up faster.
“But every time I’m with you, I feel amazing…
and it scares me. Because I’ve lost myself in other relationships.
” She pauses, her expression painted with every emotion.
“Bending, shrinking, trying to be what everyone else wants, so I don’t end up alone like my mom.
Now I’m probably more messed up than she ever was!
Sure, I’m still married. But I’m here sitting with you.
And I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
I don’t move. My hands stay steady on the wheel, but everything inside me is screaming.
“I need to figure out my life and decide if my marriage can be saved, or if I need to let it go,” she says, finally looking at me. “But I can’t do that while I’m with you, comparing Jacob to you, dreaming about you…”
She stops. Her words hang between us, heavy and sharp.
I try to focus on the distant noise outside, but my heartbeat pounds louder. “Okay,” I murmur. The word tastes bitter. A word she hates, the one that says nothing and everything all at once.
“This isn’t enough, Dylan. It’s breadcrumbs from another man, and I keep convincing myself I should be grateful for scraps.
” She blinks back tears. “Maybe this is great for you—sex with no strings. But it’s not enough for me.
I can't keep chasing men who can’t or won’t give me enough.
It’s like the universe keeps handing me the same lesson, and I keep failing the damn test.”
Her tears spill over, and it kills me not to reach for her. I search for any sign I should fight to stay, any small crack in the wall she’s built. But all I see is resignation, and it guts me.
“Maybe…” I clear my throat, trying to hold myself steady. “Maybe I’m not your answer. Not me. Not Jacob. Not your dad. Maybe it’s about you. What you’re willing to accept. What you think you're worthy of.”
She flinches, like I’ve struck a nerve she wasn’t ready to feel.
“You could leave Jacob. You could have ended things with me months ago. Hell, you could’ve written your dad a letter telling him he’s an asshole, that he doesn’t deserve your energy anymore.
But until you believe you’re enough on your own, none of it’s going to matter. ”
Her face crumbles, then she sobs, completely unraveling right in front of me.
My stomach physically hurts. I’ve pushed too hard. And I can't take it back.
She lets out a bitter laugh. “He’s dead.
And my mom kept it from me for months. Not even sure if she ever planned to tell me.
But I can’t even be mad at her. Look at me.
Look at all the lies I’ve told.” Her voice shakes.
“It doesn’t even matter. I shouldn’t feel sad for him. He was never really my father.”
I watch her closely, then rest my hand lightly on hers. “Jenna, you don’t have to like him. But that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to be hurt.”
She exhales loudly. “I’m a big mess.”
“No, you’re not,” I whisper, trying to hide my own hurt. “You need to grieve. Even if he doesn’t deserve your sadness. This isn’t about him. It’s about you, what you actually want. Not what anyone else expects.”
She nods, wiping her eyes. “Jacob finally agreed to therapy,” she says, changing the subject. “I owe it to him. To us. To try.”
I half smile, a part of me happy for them, even though it feels like my heart is bleeding out. “That’s good. I hope it works out. I really do.”
I brush her cheek, my thumb grazing her trembling lips. God, my resolve cracks, and the words tumble out. “You have no idea how much I want to kiss you. Run away with you. Make you mine.”
She bites her lip, hope flickering in her eyes. Waiting. Needing more.
And I almost give it to her. But then I remember her daughters. Her family. Everything I’m not. And everything she needs.
“I meant every word when I said I want to try. That maybe I’m ready for more,” I force out. “But I know that’s not enough. And now, you’re giving your marriage another shot. I don’t want to be more noise in your already complicated life.”
The hope shatters from her beautiful face.
And I kiss her anyway. Soft. Gentle. Even though I know I shouldn’t.
“So, that’s it?” she says, her voice barely there when I pull away. “This is how it ends?”
I trace her mouth one last time, memorizing every detail. “Yeah.” I hesitate, my voice low, wrecked. “God, I’m gonna miss you so much.”
Tears crash down, and I fucking lose it. I pull her into my arms, scared to let go. “Take care of yourself,” I murmur into her hair. “And for once… put yourself first. No one deserves happiness more than you.”
When she climbs out of the truck, I watch her walk away. I’d give anything to chase after her. To make it right somehow. But what choice do I have? I’m too fucked up to be the man she needs. And she wants to try again with her husband.
So, it’s over.