Page 59 of Breaking
This was the longest he had ever spoken in his life.
And for once, every word had mattered.
Chapter 48
Troy
Mack leaned back in the plush leather chair in his study, rolling a glass of fine whisky between his fingers. Across from him, Grant poured himself another generous measure from the decanter on the table, the level of amber liquid rapidly diminishing. Troy sat to the side, unusually quiet, nursing his own drink, his face drawn and introspective.
"So," Mack exhaled, his voice heavy, "Lila's dismissal is still causing waves. My parents are losing their minds over it. You'd think I declared war instead of just removing a liability."
Grant snorted, swirling his whisky. "At least she didn't end up in jail. They'll get over it. They always do." He took a slow sip before adding, "But Victoria and I -we are done."
Mack raised a brow, but it was Troy who spoke first, his voice slightly slurred. "You two are really done, then?"
Grant let out a humourless chuckle. "Done, signed, sealed. The girls are mostly with the nanny. Victoria's too busy partying to play mother."
Mack winced but didn't comment. Troy just stared at his glass.
"You know," Grant continued, his tone turning contemplative, "you had it good, Troy. Jenna was solid. I don't know how you managed to screw that up."
Troy didn't respond right away. He took a deep drink, eyes unfocused. He never got drunk. He didn't like losing control. But tonight, it was different.
"I was an idiot," he admitted at last, voice rough. "She waited for me, even when I was late. Curled up on the sofa with a book in her hands, the lamp casting this soft glow on her face. She learned to make my favourite dishes-hand-rolled pasta, for God's sake. And saag paneer." He gave a watery chuckle. "She got the recipe from Mrs. Aggarwal because she knew I liked it. She used to live next door in our old place in Manchester. "
Grant and Mack remained silent as Troy stared into his drink, lost in memory.
"She bought me an Apple II," he murmured. "Second year of our marriage. Found a seller and got it fixed. I still have it in my study. You know how I am with gizmos."
The room fell into heavy silence. Then, in a whisper, almost reverent, he added, "And she was the best mom. Not like ours"
His voice broke, and for a moment, he just sat there, breathing unevenly. No one spoke. They just drank, the weight of unspoken regrets pressing down on them.
Then Troy straightened, wiping at his face roughly. "Mack, I've been thinking about something. A business plan. I want to run it by you before you tell me I'm out of my mind."
Mack tilted his head, intrigued. "I'm all ears."
Jenna had returned to Chester, but she still felt like she was walking through a fog. No matter what she did, she couldn't shake the anger that crept up at the most unexpected times-while working on her illustrations, during a casual conversation with Dylan, even inmoments of stillness. It was always there, simmering just beneath the surface.
One evening, she and Dani were washing dishes together, the warmth of the kitchen at odds with the chill inside her. Jenna scrubbed at a plate more aggressively than necessary, her jaw clenched. "I can't believe him. I really can't. He never told me. Not once. About his struggles, about how he thought he might be on the spectrum. How could he do this? We have been married for twenty years. TWENTY YEARS! And he didn't trust me enough to share that part of himself with me."
Dani rinsed a glass, her expression calm but knowing. "Anger's funny like that. It waits until you think you're past it, then it jumps on you."
Jenna glanced at her, sighing. "Yeah. Guess so."
Dani set the glass down and shrugged. "You know, I used to get mad too. When I was little. When Dylan and I got separated in foster care. My foster mom starved me, locked food away. After a while, I started thinking... maybe I didn't deserve to eat."
Jenna froze, turning to Dani with wide eyes. "Dani..."
Dani gave a small, sad smile. "It messes with you. Makes you think you don't matter. But Dylan... he was just a kid himself, but he took care of me. He was seven. I was five. Our dad would leave us alone for days. Thats how we ended up in foster care. Dylan learned how to find food, how to keep us warm. When they let us stay together, he made me feel like I had someone to look out for me when my parents didn’t care."
Jenna swallowed past the lump in her throat, her anger at Troy momentarily forgotten. She reached out and gave Dani's hand a squeeze. "You're stronger than you should have ever had to be."
Dani smiled softly. "So are you."
Jenna sighed, looking down at the soapy water. "Troy... He messed up. But he's an amazing father. That's one thing I can't take away from him."
Dani nodded. "Then maybe, in time, that's the part you hold on to."
