I search Izzy’s face for anger, for judgment. “Don’t you hate me? Jacob’s your brother!”
Her hand reaches for mine. “Of course not. Ihatethat this happened to him. But I warned Jacob not to date my friends, remember? I love him, but I love you too. And I know you. Youhave a big heart and don’t want to hurt anyone. You will make the right decision when you’re ready.”
God, I love her.“I have to figure it out soon. I can’t keep living two lives. It’s exhausting,” I admit.
“You do,” she says without hesitation. “Because I won't keep this from Jacob forever.”
The weight of her words presses down on my chest. “Do you think God will punish me with bad luck?” I murmur. “More jinxes? For being a terrible human being? For the affair? For not appreciating a loving husband and beautiful kids?”
Izzy shakes her head. “No, I don’t think He punishes. I think He’s trying to teach you something. But you’re not listening. You’ve spent so much time trying to be what everyone else wants that you’ve lost sight of yourself.”
“What the hell is He trying to teach me?” My voice is raw with uncertainty. “I’ve been struggling with this decision for years, Izzy. But I got good at pretending. Smiling when I didn’t mean it. Pushing it all down so no one would see.”
She stays quiet, just watching me fiddle with my wedding ring, struggling to get the words out.
“It’s like I’ve been hanging off the edge of a cliff… for years,” I say, under my breath. “Some days, I’m seconds from falling. Other days, Jacob pulls me back just enough with his stupid apologies and his fucking breadcrumbs or whatever you wanna call them. But mostly? I’m just… so damn frozen. Too scared to let go. How the hell do I jump and destroy everything?”
Izzy inches forward, her eyes fierce. “Bullshit. This whole story you keep telling yourself about being stuck is one big, fat lie you’ve believed for way too many years.”
The cup I’m holding hangs mid-air to my lips. I don’t know what to say to that.
“You’re not stuck,” she continues. “You’re not a goddamn tree. Every single day you stay in this mess, you’re choosingit. You’re choosing uncertainty. You’re choosing to do nothing. You’re choosing unhappiness. So don’t tell me this crap when you’re the one refusing to move.”
Her words sting like someone ripping off a Band-Aid without warning. “It’s not that simple.” I try to protest, but it sounds weak, even to me.
“No one’s saying it is.” Her tone softens. “It will hurt like hell. You just need to sit with it. To grieve what you might lose. But don’t you dare wait for some magic sign to fall out of the sky. Because staying exactly where you are? It’s a choice too.”
Tears prick my eyes, but Izzy doesn’t let up.
“So stop telling yourself you’re stuck. You’re not, you’re just scared. And that’s fine. Be scared. Feel the shit out of it. Sit with it. But then get your pretty little ass up, close your eyes, and pick a goddamn direction,” she says, flapping her hands side to side. “Go left. Go right. Hell, go backwards if you have to—but move. And if you screw it up? Guess what? You can always turn around and try again.”
My breath hitches as I stare at the words flowing out of her mouth.
Her voice remains steady. “Jenna, listen to me. You’ve tried everything—waiting, hoping, therapy. You even did the impossible and convinced my brother to go to therapy on his own. You’ve given this your all, but it’s eating you alive. I know you love my brother, but love isn’t enough if it’s suffocating you.”
“I know, Izzy. I know. I just—"
“You just, nothing,” she interrupts. Her tone is firm, but not unkind. “When you’ve been battling the same damn decision for years, it stops being about the person. It comes down to how you feel in the relationship and whether you can picture a future with him.”
“I have kids to think about too.” My voice rises, desperate. “What if I wait a little longer? Do more counseling. It’s not like he’s…” I pause before saying it. “Abusive.”
Izzy’s expression hardens. “Stop. You really believe only abuse justifies divorce?” She lets out a bitter breath. “It’s screwed up how many people tell themselves it’s better for kids to grow up in an unhappy marriage than to be raised in two homes where they actually see real love.”
I flinch, another tear falling. “That’s not fair. I don’t believe that.”
“I know. But stop delaying a decision you already know the answer to,” she presses. “Counseling won’t turn my brother into the person you need him to be. You’re not happy. You haven’t been for years. That doesn’t mean there weren’t good times. Or that you don’t love him in some way. But if you’re trying this hard to justify staying, then deep down, you already know it’s not right.”
“What if I don’t know what the hell I want?” I say, wiping my cheek.
Izzy’s hazel eyes soften. “Yes, you do. You're just scared of what comes next. But Jenna, doing nothing—staying in this torturous in-between—is breaking you too.”
A bitter laugh escapes me. “So what? I just strap on a harness and jump into the unknown? Risk everything? What if I can’t do it?”
“You can. And you will.” Izzy assures me as she squeezes my hand. “Then when you do, you’ll wonder why it took you so long. Remember the big guy upstairs? Have a little faith. You’re stronger than you think. And the best part? There’s peace on the other side of all this.”
Her words linger. And an ugly sob escapes me. “I do remember Him,” I mumble through the tears. “We’ve had a bitof a rocky relationship. But I’m not even sure I know what peace looks like anymore.”
Izzy hands me another napkin. “And you won’t ever feel it again if you don’t make a decision. Picture yourself six months from now, still in the exact same place. Is that what you want?”
