42. Chapter 42 Is This the End?
Dylan: October
“ Can we talk? It’s important.” Jenna’s text.
No context. No explanation. Just five words that land like a punch to the chest. It’s been days since we last spoke.
No more nightly check-ins. No thinking of you texts.
Just silence. Excuses not to see her. And me pulling away.
Not because I want to. Because I have to. I can’t live in her limbo anymore.
My heart pounds as I type: Okay. Meet you in an hour.
I lace up my runners, yank on a baseball cap, and barely make it to the door before Krueger barrels into me. Tail wagging, tongue flopping, like I’m going away forever.
“Hey, buddy,” I mutter, rubbing behind his ears. “Wanna hear something pathetic?”
He just stares with those wide, trusting eyes.
“I fell for a married woman. Hard.” My voice is low and bitter.
“Someone I had no business loving. Because she was never mine to begin with. And she never even said it back.” I swallow the knot in my throat.
“But she made me feel again, made me believe I was worth more than one-night stands and a lonely future.”
Krueger licks my hand, rolling over, asking for belly rubs. Simple. Loyal. Uncomplicated. I envy him.
At the ranch, it’s quiet, the sun filtering through the trees like any other day, but my nerves are shot. Jenna’s already there standing in the doorway. Green sweater. Hair loose. She’s breathtaking, as always.
She steps forward, arms open for a hug, but my body stiffens.
“We’ll talk,” I say before she can speak. “But let me go first.”
I lean against the wall, eyes fixed on the wood beams next to us. If I look at her, I’ll never get through this. “When I said you’d steal my heart, Jenna, I was wrong. You didn’t steal it—I gave it to you, willingly. Every goddamn piece.”
I pause, the words sticking in my throat. “And I wanted you. Not because you were off-limits. But because you filled spaces I didn’t even know were empty. But you shouldn’t have to. And you sure as hell shouldn’t be breaking yourself into pieces just to give me one of them.”
Her fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt. When I finally glance at her, she looks wrecked. Good. So am I.
“I know it’s wrong to be with someone’s wife,” I continue. “Holding on to pieces of you like they’re mine to hold. I’m not just disrespecting him. I’m disrespecting myself.”
She opens her mouth, but I need to finish.
“So I’ve been backing off. Giving you the space that you need, even if you won’t admit it.”
“I’m sorry, Dylan,” she says, her voice breaking. “For dragging you into my mess. You shouldn’t have pieces. But believe me, you have my whole heart. Always have. And so much has happened since—”
I take her hand. “Wait. Can I show you something first?”
Inside the barn, Wobbles is curled up in a pile of hay, clueless to the chaos she’s about to soothe.
Jenna's face lights up. “How?" she gasps. "How did you find her?”
“ A couple of weeks after you told me Jacob dumped her at a shelter, I got this itch to find her. It was stupid. But…” I hesitate. “It felt like having a piece of you, and I thought maybe if there was ever a possibility of us, you and the girls could still have her.”
I pause, searching her eyes. “So, I adopted her. She’s been staying at the ranch and fits right in with the barn cats and other animals. I check on her as much as I can, and my dad and sisters feed the animals daily.”
Her eyes well with tears. She drops down beside Wobbles, stroking her fur. “You kept her for me? For my girls? All this time!” Her voice breaks. “They’re going to lose their minds.”
She looks up, her expression twisting. “Why didn’t you tell me? Because of Jacob? His allergies.”
I run a hand through my hair. “I wanted to. So many times. But then things kept getting more complicated. The accident. The distance. And I knew you couldn’t keep her or risk coming here.”
“Thank you,” she murmurs. “For adopting her. For everything you’ve done this past year to make me feel loved and seen. But I can keep her now. Wobbles and Boner Dog.” A soft laugh escapes her. “I like the sound of that.”
I smile, then freeze. “I don’t understand?”
She meets my gaze, my heart rate rising. “I… I ended… my marriage.”
Each word lands heavier than the last. “We signed the papers a few weeks ago,” she adds. “I thought it would get ugly—was ready for war,” she sighs. “But I think he didn’t want our girls going through the same thing he went through as a kid. And I’m grateful. But…”
Her legs buckle, and I catch her, pulling her against me as sobs rack her body.
My stomach sinks.
“I picked up a hammer and smashed the house I built to pieces,” she says between gasps.
I tighten my grip around her, grounding her the only way I know how—by not letting her go.
“I broke him. I broke us. I broke our family.” Her breath shudders. “And I told him everything.”
Her words hang there, raw, unfiltered. He knows.
I should kiss her. Tell her this is our chance. But all I can see is her pain, which is still fresh, still bleeding.
“I couldn’t keep lying,” she whispers. “I didn’t do it for you, Dylan. I did it for me.”
I’ve imagined this moment a thousand different ways. But now that it’s real? It doesn’t feel right. It feels unfinished. “You don’t owe me anything,” I murmur. “I never wanted you to leave him for me. I just wanted you to choose you.”
She tilts her face toward me, eyes glossy. “So… what does that mean for us?”
My breath stutters. “I wish I had an answer. I want to say we’re good now. We can have our happily ever after. That truck picnics and orgasms are enough. But I’m not sure it’s the right time.”
Not when her world is in shambles. And I’m scared to wait and end up hurt again.
“God, I hate this. All of this,” she says quietly, her voice turning hollow. “But ending my marriage… that wasn’t the worst part of my story today.”
My pulse spikes. “What was?”
She stops, backing away. “My nightmares…” she mumbles. “They’re worse than I imagined.”
I move closer, my stomach in knots.
“Jacob finally told me everything,” she murmurs. “He lied for years. Said it was to protect me. That the truth would break me.” Her voice cracks. “But the lies broke me more. And then he—then I….”
Her whole body starts to shake. I wrap my arms around her gently wishing I can take her pain away. “Take your time. I’m here.”
She leans into me, letting out a ragged breath. “My ex… one night, he was high. Angrier than usual. There was something different in his eyes. He started hurting me, choking me—” Her breath hitches. “I was so scared, Dylan. And I—God, I didn’t mean to. I just grabbed something to defend myself.”
Tears streak down her face. “And I… I… I killed a man.” Her voice shatters completely. “I killed him. I killed Ryan.”
The world stops.
Because that name detonates like a bomb inside my chest.
She clings to me. But I can’t move. Can’t breathe. Can’t hold her.
“What?” I rasp, the words gutted and raw. “No. Jenna. That’s—” I stumble back. “That’s impossible. You’d never—”
She tries to reach for me again, but I pull away, the shock still ripping through my insides.
“I did,” she mutters, wiping her cheek. “And Jacob… he found me afterward. Covered it up to protect me. Told everyone it was an overdose.” Her voice trembles. “His uncle worked for the Spring Hill Police. No one questioned the story.”
I stare at her, though something in her eyes flicker, something she’s not saying. I feel it. Like this isn’t the whole story.
“You killed Ryan…” I breathe, my body shaking. “My brother?”
Her head jerks up. “No?” She gasps. And her face goes white. “No… your brother?” She clutches her chest as the realization tears through her. “Oh my God, Ryan…”
I nod slowly, tears welling in my eyes. “All this time,” I choke out. “I thought I lost him to drugs. I thought I was too late. But it was you—”
Her knees hit the ground, crashing to the floor as the truth crushes her. Crushes me.
“I didn’t know,” she sobs. “I didn’t know it was him. Not until you said his name.” Her body trembles furiously. “Oh my God. What… what have we done?”
I stagger back, breathless. “All those times he hurt you, Jenna? The bruises, the names—it was him. My brother?” My voice is raw. I want to hate her. To scream. But I can’t. Ryan hurt her. He hurt everyone. And all I feel is grief consuming me. “And I couldn’t save you either.”
She looks up, tormented. “I’m so sorry.”
I drop down beside her. “I spent years thinking it was my fault, that I failed him.” My voice falters, the pain in my chest too much to bear. “And now? How do we come back from this?”
Her face crumbles as she clings to me for comfort. “Fuck. I don’t know how to do this,” I mutter under my breath. “It was almost impossible the first time. I don’t know if I’ll survive letting you go again.”
She flinches. “You’re ending things? After everything we’ve been through?”
Her words cut deep. For a fleeting moment, I want to take it all back.
Every time I’ve made a choice, I’ve lost someone I loved.
My brother. My dog. Jenna, the first time because I couldn’t commit.
What if this is just one more mistake? What if letting her go now is the moment I regret for the rest of my life?
“Yes,” I murmur, though my heart wants to say no. “I can’t stay. Not now. Not like this. Maybe not ever.”
Her lips tremble, but I press on, even though it’s killing me. “You need time to heal, Jenna. From Jacob. From your past. From whatever you’re still carrying.” I pause, forcing the words out. “And I… I need time to process the fact that the woman I love… killed my brother.”
And whatever she may not be telling me.
Tears roll down her cheeks. Tears I can’t stop from falling. “I thought we’d finally have a chance. I thought…”
“So did I,” I say, wiping her cheek. “But there’s so much damage. So much that can't be undone.”
I step back, the distance between us growing like the stabbing pain in my chest. “Maybe you were right to end it the first time. Maybe we were never meant to last.”
She can’t stop crying, and it guts me. Every part of me screams to pull her into my arms. To pretend none of this happened. But if I touch her now, I know damn well I won’t be able to let go.
“I never said this before,” she whispers, stepping closer.
“But I love you, Dylan. Deeper than I knew possible. And I know this is the worst time to tell you, but I need you to hear it.” Her voice is steadier now.
“I don’t regret a thing. You showed me that a man could be gentle and vulnerable yet still strong, protective, and sexy as hell. And I’ll always be grateful I met you.”
My breath catches as I brush another tear from her cheek, memorizing the feel of her one last time. “I think I started falling the moment you teased my laugh.”
She lets out a choked laugh.
“But that day in my truck? With that dumb picnic,” I mutter, shaking my head.
“It was the first time I didn’t want to run.
Not from you. Not from this. I just wanted to stay in that goddamn truck forever.
You, me, and nothing else. And when I saw you with your girls…
you made me want things I never thought I deserved.
A home. A family. A future without fear or guilt.
And I’m so fucking grateful I met you too. ”
She reaches for my hand like one last plea. “If we’re meant to be…” She lets out a deep breath, eyes on mine. “Maybe we’ll find our way back.”
Then she lets go, and her warmth disappears. But the emptiness she leaves behind stays. And as she walks away, the only sound left is my heart breaking. Quiet. Brutal. And irreversible.