“Sounds great in theory. But my brain won’t let me. It’s like I’m wired to stay frozen. How do I move, Izzy? Tell me how.”
“Although you make a really pretty ice statue, maybe that’s the problem,” she mutters. “You’ve been stuck in your head forever. When’s the last time you listened to what your body has to say?”
“My body?” I ask, confused.
“Yeah. You’ve been doing all that meditating monk stuff, right? Start there. Get quiet. See what your body’s actually trying to tell you.”
I groan, tugging my shirt on. “The last time I tried meditating, my brain wouldn’t shut up for ten minutes.”
Izzy laughs. “Try again. What do you have to lose? Anyway, gotta go. Donald wants breakfast in bed, and lucky for me, I don’t have to cook it, if you know what I mean. Love ya. See you at work.”
Right. Work. Unbearable now without Dylan. Without the distraction of renovations. The hours drag, the office feels colder, and I can’t seem to find a single reason to stay anymore.
After everyone’s gone to bed, I retreat to my little corner of hope, working on my business. I’ve spent hours designing my website, making business cards, and planning social media posts. It’s a distraction Icancontrol. But most nights, even as I work, my thoughts spin out. The arguments replay. The same justification loop. The same impossible questions claw at me.
There’s Jacob. A steady provider. A loving father. He gave me the stability I craved growing up, the safety I thought I needed. But our marriage is a house with a crumbling foundation. Still standing, but the warmth is gone. There’s no fire, no passion. And yet, it’s a life we’ve built together. A life our daughters depend on.
Then there’s Dylan. He sees me. Not as a mother or a wife, but asme.Jenna. A woman with dreams, desires, needs of her own. With him, I can stop pretending. But he isn’t safe. He can't commit. Can't even give me all of himself. He’s more chaos, more unknowns. Maybe that’s exactly why I can’t stay away. But is it enough to throw away a life I’ve worked so hard to build? To shatter my children’s sense of security and risk everything for a love that might not last?
I roll over in bed, staring at the empty space beside me. Jacob’s downstairs, probably dozing off in front of the TV. He’s a good man. But I’m beginning to wonder if “good enough” is a lie I’ve told myself to keep everything together.
And I know I deserve happiness, but at what cost? How many lives will I destroy chasing something I’m not even sure exists? The worst part is I don’t know how to stop. No matter what I choose, someone will get hurt.
Shit. I think my nightmares are starting to feel better than the chaos I’ve created in real life.
Chapter 30: Breadcrumbs
Dylan: December
Sitting here with Jenna again, same place, same time, almost like it’s become routine. Except today is supposed to be special. The last day of the year. A fresh start only a few hours away. But she's staring out at the water like she wishes she could disappear into it. It’s been weeks since that first day at the bridge. And somehow, the longer it lasts, the harder and more complicated it gets.
She hasn’t said much today, and the silence is starting to mess with my head. Just like the growing distance between us. But we both know this can’t last, even if we won’t say it.
“What’s going on?” I ask, keeping my voice light. Although I’m not sure I want the answer. “You’re a million miles away.”
She turns away, and something tells me I’m not going to like what she says next.
“Spit it out,” I push. I know there’s something she’s itching to say.
Her gaze meets mine again. “I think I’m addicted to you. To the way you make me feel. And I have no idea how to let you go,” she says quietly. “Not even sure I want to.”
My pulse picks up faster.
“But every time I’m with you, I feel amazing… and it scares me. Because I’ve lost myself in other relationships.” She pauses, her expression painted with every emotion. “Bending, shrinking, trying to be what everyone else wants, so I don’t end up alone like my mom. Now I’m probably more messed up than she ever was! Sure, I’m still married. But I’m here sitting with you. And I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
I don’t move. My hands stay steady on the wheel, but everything inside me is screaming.
“I need to figure out my life and decide if my marriage can be saved, or if I need to let it go,” she says, finally looking at me. “But I can’t do that while I’m with you, comparing Jacob to you, dreaming about you…”
She stops. Her words hang between us, heavy and sharp.
I try to focus on the distant noise outside, but my heartbeat pounds louder. “Okay,” I murmur. The word tastes bitter. A word she hates, the one that says nothing and everything all at once.
“This isn’t enough, Dylan. It’s breadcrumbs from another man, and I keep convincing myself I should be grateful for scraps.” She blinks back tears. “Maybe this is great for you—sex with no strings. But it’s not enough for me. I can't keep chasing men who can’t or won’t give me enough. It’s like the universe keeps handing me the same lesson, and I keep failing the damn test.”
Her tears spill over, and it kills me not to reach for her. I search for any sign I should fight to stay, any small crack in the wall she’s built. But all I see is resignation, and it guts me.
“Maybe…” I clear my throat, trying to hold myself steady. “Maybe I’m not your answer. Not me. Not Jacob. Not your dad. Maybe it’s about you. What you’re willing to accept. What you think you're worthy of.”
