Page 7 of Breaking
When she left, the room felt too quiet, her words echoing in his head. Troy sat down heavily in his chair, running a hand through his hair. He thought about Jenna-her soft smile, the way she curled up on the couch with a book, the way she laughed with her whole body when something genuinely amused her.
He loved her. He knew that.
But he hadn't said it in a long time.
That night, he didn't go straight home. He drove aimlessly for a while, trying to clear his head, but the guilt followed him like a shadow. By the time he finally walked through the door, the house was dark and silent. Jenna had left the lights on in the hallway, as she always did, but she was already in bed.
Troy stood outside their bedroom door for a long time, his hand hovering over the doorknob. The thought of crawling into bed beside her felt... wrong, like he didn't deserve it. There were so many ways in which he had failed as a husband. With a heavy sigh, he turned and headed for the guestroom instead. In his head, he decided he did not want to wake Jenna up so late. It wasn't anything else, of course not. It wasn’t guilt. It wasn’t that corner room that Jenna had never repainted from its gender-neutral pale yellow. Why wouldn’t she let it go, and let him do the same?
He didn't sleep well that night.
Chapter 6
Jenna
Jenna stared at her phone, her thumb hovering over the green call button. Her chest tightened as she debated whether to dial. It wasn't that she couldn't reach Troy-she could-but every interaction lately felt like navigating a minefield. She woke up alone, his side of the bed cold and unslept on. He either avoided her like last night or treated her like a burden, an afterthought. Sometimes, it ended in a fight where she felt she was wasting his time. Troy went cold and she was left apologising tearfully. Lately, she just felt numb.
And if she was honest, she was tired of the explosions.
Sasha's voice echoed in her mind.
He's not some untouchable king, Jenna. He's your husband. Call him.
So, she did.
The line rang twice before a crisp, professional voice answered. "Mr. Bradshaw's office. This is Maggie speaking."
Jenna's stomach sank. Maggie. The gatekeeper.
"Hi, Maggie. It's Jenna. Can you put Troy on the line, please?"
There was a pause, and Jenna could almost hear the other woman's disapproval through the phone. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Bradshaw, but Mr. Bradshaw is in a meeting. Later, he has a meeting with Lila over lunch. Can I take a message?"
Jenna closed her eyes, gripping the phone tighter. This wasn't the first time Maggie had blocked her calls, but it stung every time. "No, thank you. Just... let him know I called."
"Of course." Maggie's tone was pleasant, bordering on smug. She was close to Lila and hated Jenna for some reason.
The call disconnected, leaving Jenna staring at the screen, the familiar knot of frustration and hurt tightening in her chest. She set the phone down carefully, as though dropping it too hard might shatter the fragile veneer of her composure.
In his corner office, Troy glanced at his phone as it buzzed on the edge of his desk. Maggie's name popped up on the screen, and he reached for the intercom button.
"Yeah?"
"Your wife just called," Maggie said, her tone clipped but professional.
Troy frowned, leaning back in his chair. "What did she want?"
"She didn't say."
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "All right. Thanks."
It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to Jenna. He did. But work had a way of swallowing his attention whole, and Maggie had proven adept at filtering the distractions that might derail his focus. It was why he'd hired her, after all. Also, he did not want to have another conversation on his late shifts at work. Jenna did not hold grudges and would not bring it up again, given time.
Lila breezed into his office without knocking, her dark hair gleaming under the fluorescent lights. "You look stressed," she said, dropping into the chair across from him.
Troy gave her a wry smile. "Occupational hazard."
"Or marital hazard," she teased, crossing one leg over the other.
