In a world where love and family should provide solace, Jenna finds herself trapped in a perpetual cycle of rejection and heartbreak. Torn between her unwavering devotion to her son, Lucas, and the bitter realization that she will never be enough for her own family, Jenna embarks on a journey of self-discovery that will test the boundaries of her resilience. As the ghosts of her past continue to haunt her, Jenna must confront the harsh truth that her husband, Dylan, has never truly loved her, his heart forever entwined with her sister, Allison. With her world crumbling around her, Jenna finds herself at a crossroads, torn between the desire to protect herself from further pain and the yearning for the love and acceptance she has always craved. In this gripping tale of love, loss, and the unbreakable bonds of family, Jenna must navigate the treacherous waters of betrayal and rejection, all while fighting to preserve the one thing that keeps her afloat – her unwavering love for her son.
Chapter 1 The Final Goodbye
I exit my car and head cautiously in the direction of the home. My body was perspiring, and my hands were shaking.
I was still in disbelief that everything was over. that I had lastly obtained a divorce from him. Right now, the evidence supporting that was in my purse. I was here to pick up Lucas and deliver the last set of paperwork to him.
I follow the sounds of quiet voices into the house, but I come to a stop as I get close to the kitchen.
I could hear them plainly right now, and what I heard chilled my spirit to the bone.
"Why you can't live with me and your mother is still beyond me." Lucas asks his dad.
My hands tremble and reach my chest. His voice broke my heart with its anguish. Though I would stop at nothing to win his divorce, it was unavoidable.
It had been a mistake to get married. There was something wrong with us all. It simply took me some time to realize the reality.
"You understand why your mom and I are no longer together, Lucas." He answers in a quiet voice.
It truly is strange. that in all the time we've been married, he has never used gentle language with me. It was consistently chilly. Constantly impersonal and emotionless
"However, why?"
He mumbles, "These things just happen."
I can picture him frowning. He's trying to explain things to Lucas so he won't ask any more questions. However, Lucas is my kid. His innate curiosity and inquisitiveness go deep.
"Do you not adore her?"
The query is so simple and sincere that it makes me gasp. I move back, resting against the wall. My heart is pounding as I wait for his response.
I was aware of his response. I've been aware of it all along. That dreadful answer is certainly well known to all but Lucas.
He really isn't in love with me. Never will have and never will have. It was evident as day. I was still curious to hear his response, though. Would he be lying to our son, or telling the truth?
His throat is cleared, clearly stalling. "Lucas."
"Dad, do you still love your mother?" Lucas asks once more, ending his question.
I hear the dejected sigh. At last, he responds, "I love her for giving me you."
It was not a response, but a placation.
I shut my eyes to block out the Miller pain shooting through me. following a lengthy period. It hurts even now. My heart is shattering all over again. I'm not sure why, but there was a tiny part of me that thought his response would be different.
Those three words were never stated by him to me. Not when I gave birth to Lucas, not when we were married, not in the years that followed, not when we shared a bed together.
All the way during our marriage, he held himself back. I gave it everything I had, and all he gave me back was suffering and heartbreak.
There were three of us in our marriage, not just the two of us. The love of his life, me, and him. The woman he has spent nine long years unable to let go of.
My eyes water, yet I rub them anyhow. I had had enough of crying. I was fed up with pursuing a man who wasn't interested in me.
"Have you ever been told that listening in on other people's conversations is impolite?"
His powerful voice pierces the stillness. disturbing my train of thinking in the process. I take a square stance and head into the kitchen.
He is standing close to the kitchen counter there. Dylan Woods, my husband of the past.
I can't move from the spot, his mocking grey eyes.
My gaze veers to my son. My delight and pride. all that is positive in my life. His father is undoubtedly the source of his beautiful looks. He has my dark hair and my Miller grey eyes.
"Hello," I say with a tiny smile.
"Hello, mom," Lucas says, setting down his partially consumed lunch and leaping from the counter. He runs over to give me a tight hug. "You've been missed,"
I kiss his forehead and say, "Missed you too, my love," before he turns away and resumes eating.
I awkwardly stand there. I don't feel at home here anymore, even though it used to be. As if I don't belong.
But in all honesty, I never did.
Whether he knew it or not, he designed this home with HER in mind. Everything in this house, even the color palette, was HER ideal home.
That ought to have been his first clue that he wasn't going to let her go. that he wouldn't feel the same way for me.
He asks angrily, "What are you doing here?" while fixating on his watch. "You said you wouldn't interfere with my time spent with Lucas."
"I am aware...I thought I could bring you a copy of the divorce decree while I go get Lucas because I received it today.
His lips thin and his face goes completely chilly. I feel like a piece of me breaks every time he stares at me like way. Even though I have loved him for as long as I can remember, he doesn't care that at all.
He has repeatedly wrecked my soul and broken my heart. I was still in love with him. Hanging on. I kept expecting things to change, but they never did.
Upon our marriage, I believed that I would at last experience love. the love that I had desired since I was a young child. I was in error. Getting married became a nightmare. I was always at odds with the ghost of his former life. The ghost of a girl that, despite my best efforts, I could never live up to.
I give my chest a rub. attempting to lessen the suffering contained there.
It is ineffective. Even after months apart, it still hurts like crazy.
Could you please head up to your room, Lucas? With clinched teeth, Dylan adds, "Your mother and I need to discuss something." The word "mother" slips out of his mouth in contempt.
He gives us a minute's worth of stares, then nods.
"Avoid fighting," he orders before walking away.
Dylan slams his fist against the counter in rage as soon as he is out of earshot. He looks at me with cold, steely eyes.
With a scowl, he says, "You could have sent them to my damn office instead of interrupting my time with my son." His fists are clenched, as if he were about to explode on me.
"Dylan." I sigh, not knowing how to finish the phrase.
Not at all. No way! Nine years ago, you completely changed my life. When you asked for that filthy divorce, you did it once more. Was this your way of punishing me? preventing me from loving you and separating me from my son. Breaking: By the time he finishes, his breathing is labored, "Jenna, I fucking hate you." His irate words fly out of his mouth like projectiles aimed directly at me. My heart feels pierced by them. Every word breaks my heart, which is already frail.
"I-I."
When the man you still love declares his hatred for you, what are you to say?
"Please just leave my fucking house.When my time with Lucas is up, I'll bring him home," he yells.
I placed the divorce judgment on the countertop. Just as I was about to apologize, my phone rang. I get it from my purse and glance at the caller ID.
MOM.
She never calls me unless it's something serious, so I wanted to ignore it.
I hold the phone up to my ear and swipe the screen.
"Mothe," I sigh.
She cuts me off before I can continue speaking.
"Now go to the hospital!" "Your father has been shot," she exclaims, practically hysterically, and hangs up.
My phone falls out of my grasp. I'm taken aback.
"What is it?" his voice pierces my consciousness.
My heart pounding, I pick up my phone and answer him without looking up.
"The father was shot."
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