Page 85 of Jinxed Hearts

Ava calls out from the line, “Mr. Dog Man! You have to pay!”

And the moment passes.

I buy the cones, the girls play fetch with the dogs, we talk about my sister’s wedding and honeymoon, and for a little while, it feels normal. Like maybe I could have this life.

“Okay, girls.” Jenna checks her watch. “Home time. Dinner’s waiting.”

And her husband. Fuck.

They groan, not wanting to leave, and wave goodbye. “Bye, Dog Man!”

“Later, Ice Cream Queens.”

That night, I can’t sleep. All I can think about is her with her girls. And this fucked up feeling of wanting more. Of believing maybe I could be good enough for a family. Maybe I could have something real with her.

A married woman. Fuck. Is that why I want her? To torture myself with things I can’t have. Or maybe I want to show her and myself that I’m capable of committing, of showing up, of being different.

Then an idea hits me, and I’m excited for tomorrow.

The next day, I’m at the fourth shelter, hoping this is finally the one, and that I’m not too late. If only I could remember the damn name of it.

“Hi,” I tell the woman at the desk. “I’m looking for a cat named Wobbles.”

“Oh, yes. A man dropped her off a few weeks ago,” she smiles. “She’s a little scruffy and walks funny, but she’s such a sweet girl. Come with me.”

I follow her to the back, and there she is. A shabby, wobbly, tiny little thing with big green eyes that look straight into my soul. I scoop her up and she flops into my arms, purring like a motorboat. Something about her makes me think of Daisy, my old mutt. She died a few months after I left her behind to move in with Mom. I never got to say goodbye.

“I’ll take her.”

Back at the ranch, Wobbles makes herself right at home—chasing horses and rolling in the hay. And me? I have no clue what I’m doing. I know Jenna can’t keep her, and she can’t come here to visit her. Yet I don’t care. I just need to hold onto a piece of Jenna. Even if it’s through this scrappy little cat who’s mine now.

Chapter 29: New Year, Same Nightmares

Jenna: December

We’re parked at our usual spot again, the bridge stretching in front of us, watching like a silent witness. This small corner of the world has become our escape, a place where we can pretend nothing else exists, even just for a while. But these stolen moments are never enough. They leave me aching, guilt gnawing deeper each time.

It’s getting harder to be with him like this, knowing he isn’t mine. Knowing I only get scraps of time, and one wrong move could blow up everything. Then seeing him with my girls—so natural with them, so easy—it messed with my mind. I tasted the life I could have with him. And God, I wish that life was mine.

We sit in silence, holding sandwiches neither of us touches. Dylan’s hand rests over the steering wheel.

“You’re quiet,” he finally says.

I force a smile. “Sorry. I was… thinking.”

“About what?”

I hesitate, staring out over the bridge. “About this.” I motion between us. “About what you said about sneaking around.” My voice cracks. “I hate it too. Don’t you want more?”

“More?” He exhales, his brows furrowed. “Jenna, I want everything. I want to take you out on a real date in public. Wake up next to you after being with you all night long. Hear your voice whenever the hell I feel like it without hiding.” He drags a hand over his face, his voice rough. “But I don’t know how to have that. How to be a man you're worthy of.”

I shake my head. “I know you don’t. I don’t think you even know what you want,” I mutter low. “But I can’t keep living in this in-between.”

Frustration flickers across his face. “You think I don’t want you?” he says, his jaw tightening. “Jenna, I hate this. I hate that I have to share you with another man who doesn’t deserve you. I hate that, for the first time, I want to try, really try to have something real. And I can’t do it with you.”

I can feel the cracks spreading between us. “I can’t end my marriage,” I choke out. “For a man still trying to test out if he can be in a committed relationship.”

Dylan's eyes flash to mine, then flicker away. “I never asked you to,” he mutters. “I’d never ask you to break your family apart. I could never be the reason for that.”