Dylan scans my desk, his fingers grazing over a framed photo of Jacob and me, caught mid-laugh on a trip to Maui. That vacation feels like a hundred years ago. His gaze lingers before meeting mine. “You know, those boxes aren’t going to pack themselves,” he teases. “Let me know when you’re done, and I’ll start gutting this office next.”
I nod and turn away, assuming the conversation is over. I begin pulling down photos, files and dusty folders, placing them into boxes.
“Have you ever thought about doing it on your own?” he asks over the sound of metal clinking.
I pause and stare down at the Maui photo I’m holding, thinking about all the times I’ve tried to talk to Jacob about it. How much Jacob hates change. How he thinks all my ideas are silly. “Yes,” I admit. “It’s crossed my mind. But starting something from scratch is terrifying.”
“Convince me to hire you in two minutes,” he says, rubbing his chin, “and maybe you can plan my sister Gabriella’s wedding.”
I blink, scrunching my nose. “You’re joking, right?”
“Dead serious.” He adjusts his tool belt, his hands restless. “She’s on a budget and could use some help. Maybe you could give her a great discount as your first client.”
I place the photo in the box, my curiosity sparking. “I would. But I don’t even know your sister or her partner. A weddingshould be about both of them.” I raise both hands, emphasizing the point. “It should scream, ‘This is us!’”
Dylan points to me and says, “With that answer, I already know she’d love you.”
A nervous smile tugs at my lips. “Can I think about it? I’m not sure I’m ready to put myself out there.”
“Of course. You’ve got plenty of time. It’s not for a while.” His voice softens as he leans in, and it’s hard to think straight when I notice flecks of gold in his hazel eyes. “Can I offer some advice? From someone who built his renovation company from scratch?”
I nod, struggling to ignore how close he is now.
“It’s like skydiving,” he says, meeting my gaze. “Scary as hell when you jump, but once you take the leap? It’s worth every damn second… even if the ride gets a little bumpy.”
“Thanks for the cheesy metaphor,” I tease, smiling. “I’ve always wanted to go skydiving. Just not sure I’ll have the guts when I’m a thousand feet in the air.”
“Awesome. First, you make fun of my laugh, and now I’m corny? Nope. My ego is totally fine.” He winces, his voice playful as he flashes a faint dimple. And I can’t tell if he’s messing with me or not.
“I said cheesy. And I’m pretty sure I don’t need to massage your ego any more than I already have.” I chuckle, but my heart clenches. This conversation feels too easy.
And his smirk says it all—ego clearly still intact. “I should probably get back to work before Shantel fires me,” I half joke, my voice softer, unsure.
The truth is, I don’t even need this job. Jacob’s told me countless times how unnecessary it is, since he can support us fully. But it’s not about the money. It’s about me. I need something that’s mine, something beyond trying to be theperfect wife and mom. I refuse to depend on a man the way my mother always has.
I sit at my desk, opening my laptop to finalize an event proposal, but I can’t focus. Between the drilling, hammering, and Dylan’s voice slicing through it all, it’s pointless. He’s talking with a couple of workers about the renovations while he measures a section of the wall and jots notes in his sketchpad. Suddenly, he pauses and turns toward me. “Jenna. What’s your phone number?”
My face flushes, and I freeze.
“For my sister’s wedding?” he adds, like he can read my mind. “You can send photos of events you’ve planned, and I’ll pass them along to her.”
“Oh. Right. Of course.” I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Trying to cover my fluster, I take his phone and enter my number. “I’ll let you know if I decide to take it on.”
The event proposal sits untouched for the next few hours as Dylan pulls me into decisions about door handles, color palettes, and fixture placements. He’s surprisingly patient as he explains his reasoning for each option. But his confidence in his work is what draws me in. It’s second nature to him, like breathing.
Other workers come and go, carrying equipment, discussing progress with Dylan, or occasionally asking me about the layout for the event space. But no one stays for long, leaving the two of us in near-constant conversations over finishes and designs.
Between debates on matte versus glossy finishes, I learn more about him—his two rescue dogs, Krueger and Jaws, safari trips to Africa and Australia, scuba diving in Belize, and fishing trips on the Gulf. How he feels at home in both the open country and on the water—like he belongs to both. How we both love travelling and want to visit Thailand someday. Although I’m sure he’ll go before my husband ever agrees to a twenty-three-hour flight.
His life feels full and overflowing with things I used to dream about. And me? I have no idea where I even belong.
As we stand side by side comparing swatches, I glance at him from the corner of my eye. Does he have someone waiting for him at home? A roommate, a girlfriend, maybe even a gorgeous fiancée? But as the hours tick by, there’s no mention of anyone.
Later that night, with the house quiet and the kids asleep with Wobbles curled at the foot of Lily's bed, I find myself thinking about Dylan and the easy way he made me laugh. I can’t remember the last time Jacob and I just laughed together. I forgot how much I miss spontaneity and adventure. Jacob used to ignite passion in me when we were dating. But now, unless it’s a special occasion, our days blur into the monotony of routine.
“Maybe we need a date night,” I suggest, loading the dishwasher.
Jacob looks up from his laptop, his brow raised like I just asked him to rob a bank. “Work’s insane right now. Maybe in a few weeks, after this trial wraps up.”
