I grin. “I have no idea. But that’s the best part. For once, I’m not waiting for someone else to define me or tell me what I’m worth. I’m choosing me. I’m choosing to love myself the way I always wanted. Not from my father, not from Jacob or Dylan—only me."
Izzy studies me, her expression softening. “Who are you? And what have you done with my self-sacrificing best friend?”
I let out a bittersweet laugh. “I guess I got tired of waiting for someone to make me feel whole. Turns out, I was always enough. And I’m pretty damn good at taking care of myself.”
Izzy smirks, sipping champagne. “Did your therapist help with that? Because I might need her number.”
I chuckle. “It wasn’t just her. It was me deciding to stop carrying shit that wasn’t mine. Choosing to heal. Choosing to forgive myself.”
She lifts a brow. “That’s it? Just… choose?”
I shake my head, smiling. “It sounds simple. It’s not. Maybe it was years of exhaustion. Maybe it was Dylan showing me whatlove could be. Or maybe it was finally reaching my breaking point. But yeah, I chose to stop being afraid of happiness.”
Izzy hesitates. “You totally loved him, huh?”
My heart clenches at that truth. “I did. He saw me—really saw me. Made me feel loved, strong, beautiful, unstoppable. Like I could do anything. I learned a lot about myself through him. And I think, in some way, I’ll love him forever.”
I exhale, the weight of it all settling in. “But am I incredibly sorry for hurting people while I figured my shit out? Absolutely. And I know I can’t change the past. I can only try to move forward and do better.”
Izzy squeezes my hand. “Sounds like it’s been hell without him.”
“It has,” I admit. “Letting him go wasn’t just losing him. It was losing the life I’d imagined with him. The future where he looked at me every day like I was the only person in the world for him. Where he listened like my words mattered. And don’t even get me started on how he made me feel… physically.”
Izzy grins knowingly. “Yeah, we’re coming back to that later.”
We laugh, the heaviness slowly lifting between us.
“I’m sorry you never got your happy ending,” she murmurs, her smile slipping.
“But I did,” I say softly.
She looks at me, puzzled.
“Do I wish I could’ve kept my family together? Of course. Do I wish I’d found love with Dylan after everything? Absolutely. Is it the fairytale ending little girls dream of? Probably not,” I say, my voice steadier than I expected.
“But in the end, I found something even better—something that will stay with me forever—love within myself. And the love I have for my girls is greater than any love I could’ve gotten from Mr. Prince Charming, who doesn’t exist.
Izzy raises her glass, eyes shining. “Cheers. To that. And to your sexy taped boobs. You’ve come so far, Jenna Jinx. I’m really proud of you.”
Me too.
The rest of the night is filled with hugs, champagne, and kind wishes. As the party winds down, and people start leaving, the door unexpectedly creaks open.
And it’s him.
Dylan.
He looks exactly like I remember—but more certain of himself. Our eyes meet, and the world around us stops.
“You’re here,” I whisper, my heart slamming against my ribs.
He smiles that devastatingly warm smile. “Of course I am. I wouldn’t miss this. I’ve been rooting for you this whole time, creeping on your social media like a total stalker, counting down the days to see this for myself.”
I laugh, blinking back tears. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”
His gaze sweeps the room, then back to me. “Wow,” his voice is in awe, “this is seriously impressive, Jenna. Exactly how I always pictured it for you.”
We fall into easy, natural conversation like no time has passed. He tells me about taking over the ranch and finally facing his past. About making peace with his father, even if the man is still a recovering asshole. And he’s still making renovation dreams come true.
