Page 47 of Jinxed Hearts

“Shit,” I breathe. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

The shift is palpable. His jaw locks. He doesn’t move. His face cold and unreadable.

“I swear, nothing is going on,” I murmur. “Dylan’s just a contractor. He’s much younger and probably dating half the city. And he has the most ridiculous bird laugh.”

Stop talking. You’re making this worse.

“But I've been thinking about what you said. About starting my own business,” I say, steering the conversation in a direction that doesn’t include Dylan. “That’s why I’ve been working overtime, trying to build clientele and…” My voice trails off. I know I sound weak and unconvincing.

He shakes his head. “That’s not it.” His voice is too quiet. Too certain. “I think something else is going on.” His eyes are fixed on me like he can see he’s searching for answers I’m too chicken shit to give.

“You’re not happy,” he mutters. “You’ve changed. We’ve changed.” His fingers grip the counter. “I know I don’t always tell you how I feel, but I’m not an idiot.”

Each word pounds harder, louder into my chest.

“Jacob, I’m sorry, I…” My words are stuck, tears stinging my eyes.

Just tell him. He deserves the truth. “I don’t know why. I… I…” I can’t say it.

His gaze drops. Then he steps away. I follow him to our bedroom, watching him sink onto the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped, just staring at the floor.

“I never thought I’d have to ask my own wife this…” He stops mid-sentence, his voice wrecked. “Not once… but twice.”

He continues looking at the floor, his fingers rubbing his forehead. “And I need you to be honest. Because I never want to ask again.”

He swallows hard. “Are you…” He pauses. “In love… with Dylan?”

Chapter 17: Ride ’Em Cowboy

Jenna: November

The room freezes, and my heart crashes further into my chest. Dylan’s face flickers in my mind. Then my girls. Then Jacob.

Is this it? The moment I destroy everything. The man who stood by me. The family we’ve created.

Jacob doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. His jaw ticks with tension, fists curled at his sides. “Fuck.” His voice shakes, eyes glistening, but he won’t let his tears fall. He won’t break first. “Silence?” His breath shudders. “Is that my ans—”

He stops, and the pain in his face ruins me. I’m crushing him, I know it.

I collapse onto the bed, curling into a tight ball, sobs wracking through my body. The guilt. The fear. The confusion. It all presses down, paralyzing me.

He sits there, watching me break. Watching us fall apart.

“Answer me, Jenna.” His voice is softer now. But no less terrifying.

I clutch my chest. “I don’t know what I want anymore.” My breath stutters. “And I don’t want to hurt you or the girls. I love you… but sometimes love isn’t enough. Maybe we need help.”

His head tilts slightly. “You didn’t answer my question.” He shoves off the bed, pacing, raking a hand through his hair. “And help? Like seeing a shrink?” He lets out a bitter laugh. “I don’t need help. You do.”

His words sting like a slap. “There’s nothing to answer!” I snap, standing up.

“That’s not a fucking answer,” he snaps back.

“I already told you—nothing is going on. But thanks for making it clear you think I’m the broken one.” My voice wavers, but I don’t back down.

“Well, guess what? I’m not. I’m trying. Trying to figure things out. Trying to be better. And yeah, maybe I do need help! But we both do.” I take a shaky breath. “Healing doesn’t happen overnight. It’s slow. Messy. And something only I can do for myself… and only you can do for you.”

He sneers, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Jesus. You pull that line from one of your self-help books?” He shakes his head. “Fine. You want some professional to fix our marriage? Call someone right now. Why waste more of our time?”