Page 40 of Breaking

But had it been?

Or had it been for his father?

His father had never explicitly said it, but Troy had always known-he was meant to prove something. Meant to be bigger, better, more successful. Not just competent, but indispensable. It had been drilled into him as the heir, reinforced through every achievement, every pat on the back that came with an undertone of what's next?

And he had listened. Even after his father's death, he had kept going, as though the voice in his head wouldn't let him stop.

Even when he had everything-a perfect wife, beautiful children with none of his deficiencies, a home-he had never slowed down.

And now?

Now, his father was dead.

Jenna was gone.

And his children could barely look at him without resentment simmering beneath the surface.

Troy exhaled, rubbing his hands down his face. He left for the office. Home didn’t feel like home without Jenna.

His phone vibrated as he drove. His mother. Again.

Margaret had called twice that morning, and he had let it go to voicemail both times, not in the mood for another lecture. He already knew what she would say.

Still, something in him-the sense of obligation drilled into him from childhood-made him answer this time.

"Hello, Mum," he said, already bracing himself.

"Troy," Margaret sighed, her voice thick with exasperation. "I've tried to be patient, but this is ridiculous. Have you heard from Jenna?"

His jaw tightened. "No."

"She hasn't answered my calls either," she said, voice sharp. "That girl always had a way of making everything about herself. Always sulking, always-"

Troy's grip on the steering turned vice-like. "Don't."

Margaret huffed. "Don't what? Speak the truth? You let her get away with-"

"I said don't." His voice was steel now, cold and final. "You don't get to talk about Jenna like that."

A stunned silence followed. He could practically hear the surprise on the other end of the line.

"Since when do you defend her?" Margaret finally scoffed. "She walked out on you, Troy. She left you and the children. And you're still running after her?"

Troy closed his eyes, pressing a thumb against his temple. "I'm not running after anyone."

"You should be moving on. You're not a failure, Troy. You've worked too hard to have your life ruined by a girl who never knew how to appreciate-"

He ended the call.

His mother's words still rang in his ears, but they didn't settle like they once had. There had been a time when he might have let her comments slip, dismissing them as the usual motherly concern, even agreeing with some of them in moments of frustration.

But now?

Now, they made him furious.

Because he knew the truth.

He had been the one who failed Jenna.