Chapter 23
The name lands like a punch to the gut. Jenn—his agent. His ex.
I clear my throat, gripping the doorknob to steady myself. "Uh, yeah. He's in the kitchen."
She steps past me without hesitation, her eyes briefly moving down my body, which is wrapped in Henry's shirt. Her lips twist into a grimace before snapping back into a straight, unbothered line.
She moves through the space like she belongs here. Like she's been here a million times before. My chest aches as I tip-toe behind her.
"Henry," Jenn calls as she enters the kitchen. Henry turns, and when he sees her, his expression shifts. He looks surprised at first, followed by an expression I can't read.
His gaze doesn't stay on her for long until it floats back to me standing in the doorway. Like magic, his eyes shift from two pools of chaos to a softness reserved for me. His chest rises and falls as he tugs a nearby shirt on his naked chest.
"Hi, Jenn," he says casually. "I wasn't expecting you. I didn't even think you knew where I lived."
"It's a small town. You were easy enough to find," she says, looking down at her fingers curled in her hand. "I had no choice, Henry. You sent me an ominous email about quitting and wouldn't answer any of my calls. But now I think I know why." Her eyes snap to me briefly before refocusing on him.
Henry exhales while rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes dart between Jenn and me like he's searching for an escape route. He looks small and uncomfortable for the first time since I met him.
When his eyes connect with mine, I give him a gentle smile. I regret it almost immediately when he says, "Emma. Can you give us a minute?"
His words are soft and gentle, but it doesn't cushion the blow. My throat tightens, and I feel the floor tilt under me. I open my mouth to object, but nothing comes out. I know it's not an unreasonable request, but it feels like a door slamming in my face.
I force a nod and swallow thickly. "Sure."
Henry's expression softens, but it doesn't change that he's asking me to leave. It doesn't change that she is here, and I'm suddenly in the way.
Instead of retreating to my apartment downstairs, I throw on my clothes from last night and quietly slip out the front door. The cool morning air hits me like a slap, and I inhale sharply, blinking back the sting in my eyes.
The numb feeling in my body takes control of my feet and pushes me toward my car. I don't want to go home, so I pull out of the driveway and head toward town.
My mind spins with all the things I don't know and all the things I don't want to know. Before I know where I'm escaping, a familiar apartment building fills my vision. My legs carry me to Wren's front door, desperate for the grounding presence of my person.
I knock quickly, praying that she's home. I let out a silent curse word when a tall man I've known since elementary school opens the door instead.
"Blake," I say breathlessly, trying to control the shakiness of my voice.
"Hey, Emma." Blake's brow furrows as he takes me in: rumpled clothes, ratty hair, and the blotchiness of almost tears coating my face. "Are you okay?"
"Is Wren here?" I ask quickly, ignoring the knot in my throat.
"Yeah, she's—"
"Who's at the door?" Wren's voice calls from somewhere inside, and a moment later, she appears behind Blake, a coffee mug in hand and her hair in a messy bun. The second she sees me, her expression shifts.
"Em?" She pushes past Blake, and her concern wraps around me like a much-needed blanket. "What happened?"
I shake my head, biting the inside of my cheek to keep the tears at bay. "Can I come in?"
"Of course," Wren says, pulling me inside and shooting Blake a quick look. "Honey, can you grab some croissants from the coffee shop on the corner?" Blake nods and disappears out the door without another word.
Wren steers me toward the couch, and I collapse onto the cushions, suddenly feeling every ounce of the ache I've been holding back.
Wren settles in beside me, tucking her legs underneath her. "Talk to me. What's going on? What happened on your date last night?"
I stare at my hands, feeling the tension in my chest pull tighter. I don't even know where to begin.
"Last night was perfect," I whisper. I bite my lip, trying to convince myself one perfect night wasn't enough to erase this hollowness creeping into my heart. "We—I mean, I—uh, we slept together."
Wren's brows shoot up, and her expression changes from concern to cautious curiosity.
"You did?" Her voice trails upward, and momentarily, I see the faintest glimmer of excitement before suspicion takes the wheel.
"Wait, what did he do? Do I need to go over there and snap his pretty boy glasses in two? "
A short, humorless laugh escapes me. "No. It's not like that. He didn't—he's not like that."
Wren narrows her eyes, studying me. "Then what's going on? If last night was so perfect, why do you look like you've been through hell and back?"
The words sit heavy on my tongue, but I force them out anyway. "This morning, his ex showed up."
Her head jerks back like I slapped her. "His ex?"
"Yeah." I drag a hand through my tangled hair, my voice barely above a whisper.
"I guess she's also his agent. They have all of this history together, and he told me a lot of other stuff last night.
But he mainly told me he fired her and would look for a new agent.
And then this morning, she just shows up out of nowhere, and he—" My throat closes, and I swallow hard, forcing the next part out.
"He asked me to leave so he could talk to her. "
Wren stares at me, open-mouthed like she's waiting for the punchline of some complicated joke. "Let me get this straight. You spent the night with him last night, and then he kicked you out the next morning because his ex-girlfriend showed up?"
I flinch at the way she says it. "It wasn't like that. I mean, he wasn't cruel about it. He said he needed to talk to her. But—" I trail off, blinking hard, trying to push back the sting behind my eyes. "It doesn't change how it felt."
I take a shaky breath, my hands twisting together in my lap. "It felt like I was a dirty little secret keeping him from his real life. Like whatever we have only exists in the confines of this town. As soon as something or someone from the outside butts in, it all comes tumbling down."
Wren's face softens, her voice gentler now. "Emma…"
I shake my head, swallowing hard. "Even before she showed up, I tried asking him what happens when summer is over. He said he wanted to stay, but his answer felt hollow."
Wren frowns, her brows knitting together as she leans closer. "Hollow, how?"
I let out a breath that feels heavier than it should.
"Like he wants to stay, but it's not that simple.
He has loose ends to tie up. Things I don't even know about.
And now, with her showing up—" I trail off, my voice catching on the words.
"It's like he's still tied to his old life, and I'm just here.
Stuck in this small-town bubble, hoping for something that might not exist outside it. "
Wren's lips part, but she hesitates, clearly trying to choose her words carefully. "Emma, it sounds like you're giving him room to break your heart before he's even had the chance."
Her words feel prickly on my skin, like an uncomfortable truth I'm not prepared to swallow. I close my eyes, trying to steady myself. "Maybe I am," I whisper. "But what if I'm not. What if this really is just temporary for him? What if she's here to remind him of everything he's leaving behind?"
Wren doesn't answer right away. She reaches for my hand, giving it a squeeze. "You deserve someone who's all in, Em. No hesitations, no maybes. I think Henry has been good for you. You’ve opened up more in the past month than you have since your marriage. It’s hard to explain, but you just seem lighter and more at peace. But if he can’t find a way to be a steady and reliable presence in your life, then he’s not the right person for you. ”
Her words hang in the air, heavy and unflinching, and I feel them settle in my chest like stones. No hesitations. No maybes. I deserve that. But the weight of my doubts lingers, creeping in like shadows I can't shake.
I inhale a sharp breath and stare down at my hands. "It's just…" I pause, trying to find the right words. Eventually, they come, and I can't stop them. "It feels like I've been here before, hoping for someone to stay, only to watch them walk away."
I swallow hard, fighting the lump in my throat. The memory of my mom always walking away when I needed her most feels like a wound that I'm constantly reopening.
Everything feels much sharper at this moment. The endless string of disappointments, my mother's absence, and my ex-husband's emotional detachment all led me to this moment, where I'm afraid I'm setting myself up for another heartbreak.
Wren's gaze softens, and she tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "You're not that girl anymore, Em. You don't have to wait for someone to leave or settle for being 'enough.' You deserve someone who stays."
The lump in my throat grows, but I force myself to hold it together.
"I don't want to be that person," I confess, my voice shaking slightly.
"I don't want to push him away before he's even had a chance.
But at the same time, I don't want to keep setting myself up for disappointment.
I can't keep living like this, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "
"Then don’t,” Wren responds, her expression warm and understanding.
"You get to choose, Em. You can keep living in fear of losing something good or let yourself believe this time is different. Even if things don’t work out with Henry, I don’t want you to give up on wanting more for yourself.
Life hasn’t been kind to you, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to embrace the good things when they come your way. ”