Page 19 of Breaking
Jenna felt her stomach twist. The dismissiveness in their words cut deeper than she expected. She had always known Max admired Troy, but to hear him so casually diminish her role... it was almost too much to bear. She turned away before they could see her, her hands trembling as she returned to the kitchen. The laughter and chatter around the table seemed distant, as though she were watching the scene from outside her own body.
Margaret's voice broke through her reverie. "You really must share your thoughts on that new gallery opening, Lila," she was saying. "Troy mentioned you've been keeping an eye on it."
Lila smiled, the picture of composure. "I've been meaning to. It's always wonderful to stay connected to the art world. Troy has such an eye for these things."
Jenna's grip on her fork tightened. She glanced at Troy, hoping for some acknowledgment, but he seemed engrossed in the conversation, his focus entirely on Lila. Her presence at the table felt more invisible than ever. She caught Grant watching her, a shadow of sympathy in his eyes.
When the evening finally drew to a close, Jenna stood in the kitchen looking out at the garden while washing Troy's favourite crystal by hand as he preferred while the muffled voices of Troy's family drifted in from the other room. She had mastered the art of being a gracious hostess, of smiling through the tension, but tonight, it had cost her more than she was willing to admit. The waitstaff moved around her, clearing the dishes, putting the leftovers away.
As she turned off the water from the sink and dried her hands, she caught her reflection in the window. The woman staring back at her looked tired, worn down by years of trying to be enough for a familythat barely seemed to see her. For the first time, Jenna allowed herself to feel the weight of it all that she had tried to ignore over the years. The sharp sting of being diminished by the people who were supposed to love her most.
Chapter 17
Jenna returned to the table after a brief reprieve in the kitchen, her polite smile firmly in place. The coffee and petits fours had been served, and Margaret, as usual, presided over the room like a queen-a sharp-tongued, meddlesome shrew cloaked in faux elegance.
Jenna took her seat, folding her hands in her lap as she listened to Margaret continue her effusive praise of Lila.
"I must say, Lila," Margaret began, her teacup poised delicately in her hand, "you've done exceptionally well for yourself. It's so refreshing to see a young woman with such ambition and poise."
Lila tilted her head modestly. "That's very kind of you to say, Margaret. I've just been fortunate to work with some great mentors... like Troy."
Jenna's smile didn't falter, but her grip on the tablecloth tightened. Across from her, Victoria smirked, clearly enjoying the unfolding dynamic.
"Speaking of which," Victoria chimed in, her voice carrying an edge of faux curiosity, "Jenna, didn't you have some plans to pursue a degree once? What ever happened with that?"
Jenna's smile remained serene, though a flicker of something passed through her eyes. She had earned her degree years ago, painstakingly completing it through night classes while juggling her responsibilities. But she'd kept it quiet, knowing that mentioning it would only invite mockery or condescension. This was one part of herself she wouldn't give them the satisfaction of dissecting.
Not even Troy knew. Who was she kidding? Troy would only see it as attention-seeking.
Jenna met her gaze calmly. "I decided to focus on the family," she said evenly. "Raising Max and Lilly, and ensuring Troy could devote himself fully to his career, seemed more important at the time."
"A noble sacrifice," Victoria said, her lips curling into a patronizing smile. "Not everyone could do that."
"Indeed," Margaret added with a pointed glance at Jenna. "But that's why Troy's father insisted on the prenup. To ensure everyone's interests were... protected."
The words hung in the air; a deliberate jab designed to remind Jenna of her place. A silence followed, broken only by the clinking of silverware as Grant awkwardly reached for another petit four.
"I'm sure the prenup has served its purpose, though it is not worth the paper it is printed on after twenty years of marriage.," Jenna said quietly, her tone unshaken. "Besides, it's not as though anyone could question my commitment to this family."
"Of course not," Margaret said, though her tone was far from convincing. "Still, it's good to have safeguards. "
Jenna's gaze flickered to Troy, who seemed content to remain silent. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, but his reluctance to intervene only deepened the weight pressing down on Jenna's chest.
Lila, ever the picture of grace, took a sip of her wine. "I think it's admirable how you've dedicated yourself to the family, Jenna," she said. "Not everyone has that level of... resilience."
It was the final straw. Jenna set her napkin down on the table with deliberate care, her movements precise as she rose from her seat.
"Let's not pretend we don't see what's happening here," Jenna began, her voice calm but resonant. "Margaret, your attempts to push Lila onto Troy are as transparent as they are insulting. A married man should act like one, and you've done nothing but encourage behaviour that disrespects me and this family." She turned her gaze to the rest of the table. "And the rest of you-you sit here, complicit, watching it all unfold, as though this kind of behaviour is normal. It's shameful. Hope the entertainment was satisfactory to all. " The entire room fell silent, all eyes on her. She took her time staring them all down, one by one. One of Eleanor's teenage daughters snickered softly, whispering, "Family dinners have never been this entertaining." Eleanor shot her a sharp look and shushed her, but the comment hung in the air as Jenna turned and began to walk away.
"You're right, Lila," Jenna said, her voice calm but cutting. "Resilience is something I've had to learn. After all, it takes quite a bit to smile through conversations like these." She turned to Margaret, her gaze steady. "I'm so glad you've had such a lovely evening. I'm sure the rest of you will enjoy finishing your coffee and dessert. I don’t think I will have the pleasure of hosting one of these cozy dinners ever again. I think you all have extracted your pound of flesh, blood and all. " She paused, her eyes locking on Margaret. "And perhaps next time, Margaret, you can let your sharp tongue rest. Even bridge trolls know when to stop pushing their luck."
With that, Jenna straightened her shoulders and walked out of the dining room, her steps measured and composed. The stunned silence behind her was almost satisfying.
In the kitchen, she found Maria, the maid, clearing plates. Jenna placed a hand on her arm, offering a small smile. "Thank you, Maria. Could you please handle the rest of the clearing? I'd appreciate it."
"Of course, Mrs. Bradshaw," Maria said, her tone kind. She had overheard the whole conversation and felt it was overdue.
Jenna ascended the stairs, each step a release of the tension that had coiled tightly around her all evening. When she reached her bedroom, she closed the door softly behind her, leaning against it as she exhaled. She slowly took her clothes off one by one, not bothering to pick them up. Her jewellery came off and landed with a clatter on the dressing table. She wiped her face clean of makeup, not bothering to look at herself in the mirror. And then she let her fall forward onto the bed, her face pushing into the pillow. For the first time in hours, she allowed herself to really breathe.
