Page 88 of Breaking
She sighed dramatically. "I am heavier now."
He grinned. "Well, we're not in a boxing match... but we could be."
That challenge led to a slow, sensual bout of lovemaking-one where every touch was deliberate, every kiss unhurried like they were relearning each other in the most intimate way. Troy traced his hands over her curves, exploring her body as if memorizing every inch anew, whispering words against her skin that made her shiver. Jenna responded in kind, her hands sliding over his broad shoulders, pulling him closer, pressing her mouth to the pulse at his throat. Their movements were languid, an ebb and flow of need and tenderness as if savouring each sensation, each whispered breath. The room was filled with the quiet symphony of their sighs, the deep connection theyhad forged over years settling around them like a cocoon. By the time they reached the pinnacle, it was not just passion that had driven them there but the unspoken understanding that they had always been meant for this, for each other.
Afterwards, they dozed in the dim glow of the bedside lamp, only for Jenna to suddenly sit up with a start. "Shit, I have to start dinner."
Troy groaned, watching as she reached for her clothes. "I'm feeling used."
Jenna threw him a teasing grin over her shoulder. "It's not you who is going to do the walk of shame. See you tomorrow?"
Troy smirked, stretching lazily against the pillows. "See you tomorrow."
Chapter 67
Troy had always been good at giving gifts, but lately, he had made it a habit. It wasn't about grand gestures-it was the small, thoughtful things that made Jenna's heart twist. A new set of premium paintbrushes was left on her desk with a note that read, "For the artist who forgets to take care of her tools." A collection of rare, beautifully bound art books that mysteriously appeared on her shelf. Once, he even left her favourite chocolate-covered almonds tucked in her bag, knowing she would find them right when she needed them most.
He just kept going, always finding ways to remind her that he saw her, knew her, cherished her.
Max and Lilly had visited a few times, and their relationship with Troy had only improved. The walls that had once been thick with distance were now starting to wear down. Jenna's commissions were increasing, and her work was finally getting noticed. When Troy suggested she let one of their developers work on her website and help with marketing, she hesitated. But he had laughed, pulling her onto his lap, whispering, "My ultimate goal is to free up more of your time. I'm greedy, Jenna."
He wasn't working like he used to. Semi-retired now, Troy only took on certain projects and worked mostly from Chester. The idea of opening a branch there had been tossed around, but ultimately, he was happily avoiding the office, happy just being in her space.
Grace had become a good friend, and to Jenna's amusement, she had taken a liking to teasing Troy mercilessly. Her comments alwaysmade Jenna blush, but it was nothing compared to the way Troy turned red. "Damn, Troy, does your tailor cry tears of joy when he sees how well your shirt fits over those pecs?" Grace teased, winking at Jenna. Troy turned beet red, sputtering as he tried to change the subject. "You need to stop embarrassing me," he had grumbled one evening, only for Grace to laugh and double down.
"I wouldn't dream of it."
Jenna watched, entertained, as Troy grumbled into his drink while Grace smirked.
Dylan and Troy had become close, bonding over shared interests, and Dani had just won a local football match, her pride radiating through the entire house. That evening, Jenna made an elaborate meal to celebrate-homemade pasta with a rich, slow-cooked ragù, garlic bread toasted to perfection, a crisp Caprese salad, and finally, tiramisu. The moment Dani took a bite, she smirked. "Is there alcohol in this?"
"Only a little," Jenna replied innocently.
Dylan, fresh from the excitement of his model exam results, leaned back in his chair, grinning. "I'd like to say this meal makes up for all my suffering, but I think I deserve more."
"You get tiramisu," Troy said, giving him a pointed look. "Don't push your luck."
Dani snorted. "Dylan always thinks he deserves more. Maybe we should start charging him for emotional damages every time he whines about exams."
Dylan rolled his eyes. "I don't whine."
Dani smirked. "Oh, please. You were wailing like a banshee last week when you couldn't figure out that physics problem. I thought we were going to have to call in an exorcist."
Dylan opened his mouth to protest, but at that moment, Dani leaned in and whispered something particularly outrageous. Whatever it was, it sent Dylan into such a surprised laugh that he accidentally snorted his milk through his nose.
Coughing and wiping his face, he groaned. "That was uncalled for!"
The table erupted into laughter, Troy shaking his head. "That's what you get for pushing your luck."
The teasing was easy, the laughter warm.
Troy had become their de facto father figure without anyone even realizing it.
Much later
The house had long since gone quiet, the warm echoes of the day fading into soft shadows across the walls. Upstairs, in the low lamplight of Troy’s bedroom, Troy and Jenna lay side by side beneath a soft linen duvet, their fingers gently entwined between them.
Neither spoke for a while, content just to breathe in the same rhythm. The intimacy wasn't in touch, but in the silence they could now hold together without fear of it splintering.
