Page 81 of Jinxed Hearts

I want to tell her to run. To be sure. To guard her heart. But the words lodge in my throat. So I smile and offer the only thing I can.

“You're welcome. I wish you all the happiness—and great sex—in the world.”

Chapter 27: Secrets Unraveled

Jenna: December

Christmas flew by, and the excitement of the wedding faded just as quickly. In that time, things with Dylan got more complicated. Months of hiding, secrets, longing and suffocating, especially during the holidays. This time of year should be about spending it with the people you love, not pretending and aching for someone you can’t have.

The conversation at his sister’s wedding keeps poking at questions I’m not ready to face. I know Dylan isn’t the kind of man to settle down, and I might never find the courage to leave Jacob. So why can’t I stay away from him?

At my desk, I swipe through Gabriella’s wedding photos on my phone. Their smiles mock me. The bride’s joy, the groom’s admiration. It’s everything I once wanted. But now it’s slowly fading.

When I glance up, Dylan’s standing in the doorway, his smirk instantly warming me up. “Ready to plan another party, beautiful?” he says, stepping further inside. “My sister hasn’t stopped raving about how amazing you are. And I don’t disagree.”

“Still wrapping my head around the first one.” My voice sounds light, but my heart feels heavy.

Dylan sits on the edge of my desk, looking through the photos with me.

“Isn’t it kinda screwed up how I create these picture-perfect moments for couples.” I pause, fiddling with my wedding ring. “Meanwhile, my marriage is a mess. My life is—I don’t even know. And I feel like some tragic victim in a story I never wrote.”

His eyes pin me in place. “You see yourself that way? As a victim?”

I swallow hard. “Sometimes it’s hard not to. People call those who’ve experienced trauma ‘survivors,’ but that word never felt right to me. Victim fits better. My dad walked out. My ex’s abuse shattered me. It’s like this endless cycle of being used and discarded.”

I look down, my voice barely there. “But I want more than just trying to survive. I want peace. Happiness. Even if I don’t know what that looks like.” My thoughts spiral. “I just want to stop fighting, pretending…”

Figure out how to just be… He probably doesn’t understand a word I’m saying. Not sure I even do.

“You wanna know what I think?” he says, his presence grounding me. “You’re not a victim, Jenna. Not just someone who survived. Not defined by your past. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. And you deserve to find whatever it is you’re looking for. Happiness, peace… hell, even missing socks.” He smirks, breaking the tension.

I let out a light laugh but his words linger.

“I don’t know how to let go of who I was, what I’ve been through,” I admit.

Dylan’s hand brushes mine. His touch is warm and soothing. “Maybe stop trying to let go and decide how you want your story to go from here.”

His eyes hold mine, and I feel it again—that unbearable pull. The aching want. The fear of what it would cost.

“Dylan, I…” The words I can’t say tighten around my throat, words I can’t take back.

I love you.

His gaze sharpens. “Say it, Jenna. With your words, not your eyes.”

My breath shudders. Fuck. My face always gives away what I’m feeling.

“No, wait. Let me say this first.” His voice trembles. “I need you to know how I feel. This isn’t just… I’m not just some contractor who fixes things.” He hesitates, and my heart pounds so fast, it feels like it’s about to break in half.

I know what’s coming. And God, I want it. I want him to say it. Just once, to make it real, to prove I’m not imagining this. But I also know how risky it is. How much messier it’ll get.

The words hang there, so close I can almost taste them.

But a loud, sharp knock at the doorway abruptly chases the words away. We jolt like an earthquake just split the ground beneath us, tearing us apart.

My head whips toward the door, and my stomach plummets straight to the damn floor.

Jacob.