Page 65 of Breaking
She hesitated. She knew she shouldn't. She knew this was how he worked-slow, steady, persistent. But curiosity, that old enemy, tugged at her.
She looked at him then, truly looked at him-his tired eyes, the slight uncertainty beneath the confidence. He had come back. He had moved to be here.
She swallowed hard. "I... I'm sorry for the way I acted. Throwing you out like that." The words felt foreign on her tongue, but they were honest. "I wasn't expecting to see you, and I just... I panicked."
Troy's expression softened, just a fraction. "I get it."
She nodded, exhaling slowly. "Okay. Let's see the house."
And then she stepped inside.
As Troy led her through the newly renovated space, she crossed her arms and admitted, "I have to be honest, Grace and I were dying to see what you did with the place."
Troy raised a dark eyebrow. "Ah, so you're not here for me. You're here for interior design espionage."
Jenna grinned, finally relaxing just a little. "Obviously."
Chapter 53
Jenna followed Troy through the long hallway, noting the niches in the walls, each holding a potted succulent, her eyes scanning the space with quiet appreciation. The walls were a soft, warm white, the kind that glowed under the muted lighting. Everything felt deliberate-earthy tones, clean lines, a sense of warmth despite the modern aesthetic. The walls between the dining room, living room and kitchen had been knocked down, creating an open-plan living area in shades of white, beige and earthly browns. A separate study remained tucked away at the back of the house.
Her breath caught as she noticed them-her paintings on the white walls.
A delicate watercolour of a mother cradling her child hung in the entryway. Further down, a digital print of the London Eye, the colours vivid yet subdued, fit seamlessly against the wall. And in the living room, the simplest yet most personal piece-a line drawing of Lilly skipping rope with her friends, captured in a moment of carefree joy. They used to adorn the walls of their home in Brighton.
Jenna swallowed hard, her fingers flexing at her sides as she took it all in.
"It suits you," she said finally, her voice softer than she intended.
Troy turned to her; his expression unreadable. "It should. I showed the decorators our house. Told them I wanted the same colours, the same feel. It turned out well, I think."
Her throat tightened. Their house. The one in Brighton. The one she had designed with her own hands, piece by piece, until it felt like home.
They moved through the space, past the sleek, open kitchen and up the stairs. The master bedroom was sleek and modern, dominated by warm neutral tones. A large bed sat against a textured feature wall, the ambient lighting casting soft shadows across its surface. Jenna's gaze landed on something-a window seat with a built-in bookshelf nestled beneath it, the kind she had always dreamed of having, a perfect spot for reading and reflection. Her breath hitched. 'You remembered,' she murmured. She had mentioned it once years ago, but didn't think he had registered it. Troy's eyes seemed to track her as she moved through the room. A strange kind of energy seemed to flow between them.
'Yes, I did. You just thought I wasn't listening.'
Jenna tried to move beyond Troy where he was leaning against the door frame, but he didn't shift immediately, his presence filling the narrow space between them.
For a moment, they were close, the air between them shifting. Troy turned slightly, his broad frame inches from hers, and in the narrow space of the hallway, his arm brushed against her breast.
She inhaled sharply.
He looked down, and she looked up.
There was more grey in his hair now, she realized. In this light, his eyes appeared almost silver, framed by the lashes she had always envied. The years had deepened the angles of his face, lending it maturity and if anything, making him more striking than before.
The moment stretched, fragile and uncertain. A fission of something electric sparked between them, something that felt too much like nostalgia, like longing. Their breaths mingled. She could smell his woodsy aftershave.
Then the doorbell rang, startling Jenna into motion.
She stepped back, exhaling sharply as Troy cursed under his breath. He turned and made his way downstairs, his movements quicker, almost impatient. Jenna followed, her heart still beating faster than she wanted to admit.
At the door stood a woman Jenna didn't recognize. Pretty, polished, with an easy smile that had likely charmed half the neighbourhood already.
"Troy! I wanted to stop by and say welcome. It's not every day we get such an interesting new neighbour."
Troy barely concealed his irritation. "Harley, was it?"
