Page 18 of Breaking
A soft knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. She turned to see Lilly standing there, her arms crossed and her expression hesitant.
"Can I come in?" Lilly asked.
Jenna nodded, setting the stylus down. "Of course. What's up?"
Lilly stepped inside, leaning against the doorframe. "Are you okay? You seemed... upset earlier."
Jenna's lips curved into a small, bittersweet smile. "Just a lot on my plate right now. The dinner party, your dad, everything."
Lilly hesitated before speaking again. "You don't have to do all this, you know. The party, the planning... no one would blame you if you took a step back."
Jenna studied her daughter, searching for any trace of condescension, but found none. Lilly's words seemed genuine, and for a moment, Jenna felt a flicker of hope.
"Thanks, Lilly," she said softly. "That means a lot."
As Lilly left, Jenna turned back to her tablet, her fingers brushing the screen. The weight in her chest hadn't lifted, but her daughter's words had offered a small reprieve. For now, it was enough to keep going.
Chapter 16
The table was set with meticulous precision, each plate and piece of silverware perfectly aligned. Jenna had spent the entire day preparing, her every move carefully calculated to ensure the dinner party went off without a hitch. She had chosen a muted palette for the décor-ivory tablecloths, crystal wine glasses, and a centrepiece of white roses and eucalyptus that gave the table an understated elegance.
The menu was a reflection of her effort, each dish chosen to highlight her skills and the care she put into these events. The first course was a creamy wild mushroom soup with a drizzle of truffle oil, served in porcelain bowls that gleamed under the soft light of the chandelier. Jenna had ladled the soup herself, her hands steady despite the nerves that churned in her stomach. Their regular staff stood ready to serve.
The first guests to arrive were Troy's brother, Grant, and his wife, Victoria. Grant greeted Jenna warmly, offering a bottle of vintage wine as a hostess gift. Victoria followed behind, her Chanel-clad figure exuding effortless sophistication. She surveyed the room with a faintly judgmental air before turning to Jenna with a tight smile. "Everything looks lovely," she said. "You really do have a knack for these things."
"Thank you," Jenna replied evenly, her tone polite but devoid of warmth. She ushered them into the living room, where Eleanor, Troy's sister, and her family were already seated. Eleanor's daughters wereglued to their phones, barely acknowledging anyone as Jenna offered them drinks.
As the evening progressed, the tension in the room began to build. Margaret, Troy's mother, arrived with her usual air of superiority, her sharp eyes scanning the room as though searching for imperfections. Jenna greeted her with the same practiced smile she had perfected over the years.
"Jenna, dear," Margaret said, her tone cool. "The table looks... adequate. You've really outdone yourself."
"Thank you, Margaret," Jenna replied, ignoring the subtle jab. "I'm glad you could make it."
Margaret's attention quickly shifted to Lila, who had arrived moments later, much to Jenna's surprise. Lila looked effortlessly poised in a sleek black dress, her every movement exuding confidence. Jenna's stomach churned at the sight of her, but she maintained her composure.
"Lila, dear," Margaret said warmly, pulling her into a hug. "I'm so glad you could join us. It's always a pleasure to have you."
Jenna's polite smile didn't falter, but the slight tightening of her jaw betrayed her frustration. "I wasn't aware we were expecting any additional guests," she said, her tone carefully neutral.
"Oh, I invited Lila last minute," Margaret said dismissively. "I knew it wouldn't be any trouble for you, Jenna."
"Of course not," Jenna replied smoothly, though the weight of the evening felt heavier with every passing moment.
As the soup was served, the conversation around the table began to flow. Margaret continued to steer the discussion toward Lila, praising her accomplishments and engaging her in lively conversation aboutwork and travel. Jenna sat quietly, focusing on the food, her presence barely acknowledged.
It was during the second course-a citrus and fennel salad-that Jenna excused herself to check on the next dish. The main course-roast lamb with rosemary and garlic, served with dauphinoise potatoes and green beans-was plated and presented with her usual care. But as Jenna moved through the rest of the evening, her mind remained stuck on the conversation she had overheard. Max's words echoed in her head, each repetition stinging more than the last.
By the time dessert-a rich chocolate fondant with a molten centre-was served, Jenna felt as though she were moving through a fog. As she passed the hallway, she heard voices coming from the dining room. She paused, recognizing Max's voice, low but insistent.
"I just don't get why she doesn't do anything," Max was saying. "Dad's out there running a company, making things happen, and Mum... she's just... here. She doesn't even work."
Jenna's breath caught. She edged closer, her heart pounding as she listened.
"Max," Lila's voice replied, smooth and measured, "it's not uncommon for some people to find fulfilment in simpler things. Your mother probably feels like running a household is her contribution."
Max snorted. "Running a household? Come on. It's not like she's raising kids anymore. Lilly and I are grown. What does she even do all day?"
Lila chuckled softly. "I'm sure she does her best, Max. But you're right... your father is an extraordinary man. It's hard for anyone to measure up to someone like him."
