Outside, the cold stings my skin as I sink onto the curb, the world spinning around me. The booze numbing everything except the echo of Jenna’s voice in my head.
This was a mistake. Jenna doesn’t know my darker side. And I hope she never does. It’s crazy—I got sober to get my life back. To stop craving the high. To stop numbing everything out. And now, Jenna feels riskier than any drug I've ever touched. She’s inside my head, crawling her way into my heart. And I don’t know how to quit her.
But I can’t ask her to break up her family. I can’t accept that her kids might grow up hating me like I hated my father’s flings. The ones he kept behind my mother’s back. The ones I knew about. Jenna made the right choice. I need to respect that. I just don’t know if I can.
I pull out my phone and stare at her number. My thoughts spinning like a merry-go-fucking-round.
Message her. Tell her you need her. No, go home. Sleep this off. Tell her she’s the one you should spend your life with.
Fuck. Jenna wins.
I start typing:I wish things were different. I wish I wasn’t scared of losing someone else I care about again. I wish I could be the man you deserve. I wish we could stay friends, and I wasn’t such an idiot.
Right before I hit send, my phone dies. I laugh bitterly. Jenna would call this karma. The universe’s way of telling me to leave her alone. Let her go. Go home and fix myself.
Instead of going home, I take another detour. The Uber drops me at my dad’s ranch. The porch is a disaster—empty champagne glasses, crumbled party hats, trash spilling everywhere.
When I walk inside, the stench of whiskey follows me. Gabriella and Amelia are in the kitchen, scraping plates when they spot me. Their eyes flicker first to my face. Then to my bloodied knuckles.
"Happy fucking New Year,” I mutter, collapsing into a kitchen chair.
Gabriella freezes, dish in hand. “What the hell happened?” Her voice is tight. Worried.
Everything. I’m drunk. I fell in love with a married woman. And I picked a fight with a wall.
“Let out some frustrations,” I say, flexing my bruised fingers. “It’s nothing. The wall’s fine.”
Gabriella puts the dish down. “It’s not nothing,” she says, sitting next to me.
“I ran into Mike.” The name sits heavy between us. One we don’t talk about anymore.
Amelia stays quiet. But I see the look in her eyes.
Gabriella’s face pales. “Oh no, did he say anything?”
“Not really.” I glance down at my busted-up hands. The torn skin, just another thing I can’t fix. “Made me feel like I was back there again… like I was losing him all over.”
Amelia comes closer and places her hand over mine. “Everything we all lost.”
“I know you blame me. I blame me.” The words feel empty, like I’ve said them so many times they don’t mean anything anymore. But that’s a lie.
Her grip tightens around my bloodied fingers. “I did. I was angry for a very long time. At you, at Dad, at everything. I needed someone to blame because I couldn’t handle losing him. I’m sorry, Dylan. I don’t believe it was your fault. I never really did. But if you go back down this road again, I won’t be here to watch another brother kill himself. And I just got you back.”
Her voice breaks, and it lands like a punch to the gut.
“I won’t stick around either, not even for your hot fried chicken,” Gabriella chimes in, attempting a weak smile.
“The only addiction you guys need to worry about is Jenna,” I say, my voice catching. “And what I’ll do if I can’t get her out of my head.”
Amelia crosses her arms, her face with that familiar hard-ass expression. “Dylan, do you hear yourself? She has a husband. Kids. Do you get what that means? You’re playing with fire, and it’s not just you who’s going to get burned—and you will—it’s everyone.”
Gabriella glances between us. “Come on, give him a break. It’s not that simple, Amelia,” she says, jumping in. “You can’t just choose who you fall for.”
Amelia whips her head toward Gabriella. “Seriously?” Her voice is sharp. “You’re going to defend this? You choose who you pursue. You choose to screw another man’s wife. And there are kids involved. A whole life she built, and you want him to destroy it because—what? He can’t control himself?”
“I’m not defending him!” Gabriella snaps back louder, a rare crack in her usual calm. “I’m just saying… love can be complicated and messy.”
“Complicated doesn’t excuse selfishness! Don’t give him excuses.” Amelia turns back to me, her tone resolute. “You cannot reach out to her again, Dylan. For her sake. For everyone’s sake. If you care about her, let her figure out her own life without you making it harder.”
