This wasn’t a slip or a moment of weakness. Jenna had been planning this for a while. Every time she packed a lunch or braided their hair, every word of praise she gave the girls was part of a strategy.
None of it had come from love.
I pictured Maya’s journals, stacked on her desk, each one labeled by season and filled with stories she never let anyone read. I thought of Lily’s dirt-stained fingers, gently pressing marigold seeds into the garden bed she’d built beside the fence, whispering to them like they were magic.
I remembered the way they both said goodnight — soft and in sync, like they were casting a spell to protect each other in their sleep.
Jenna had seen all of that and seen a burden.
I sat there, gripping the steering wheel, jaw clenched, stomach twisted. My heart was pounding, not just from rage but from the ache of knowing how close I came to trusting the wrong person with everything I had left.
This wasn’t going to be a fight; this was the last chapter of Jenna’s role in our story.
I drove around the block for a little while, stopping to get the girls some pizza for dinner. And then I walked back in like nothing happened.
“Hey, honey! I’m home.”
Jenna rushed up, smiling, kissing me like nothing was wrong. She smelled like coconut and lies.
That night, after the girls had gone to bed, I ran a hand down my face and sighed.
“Jenna… maybe you were right, babe.”
“About what?” she asked, tilting her head.
“About the girls. Maybe… maybe I can’t do this. Maybe I should give them up. Maybe we should find a family who will take care of them. They need a mother… not us… we’re substitutes, nothing more.”
Jenna blinked slowly, her eyes lighting up as she realized what I was saying.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she said. “That’s the mature thing to do. It’s the right thing for all of us.”
“Yes, Jen. And maybe… we shouldn’t wait on our wedding. Losing my mom made me realize that we don’t have time to waste. So let’s just do it. Let’s get married!”
“Are you serious, James?” she shrieked.
“I am. I really am.”
“Oh my goodness! Yes, James! Let’s do it. This weekend — small, simple, whatever we want.”
I shook my head.
“No, let’s do it bigger. Let’s invite everyone! And make it a fresh start for us, honey. Your family, my mom’s friends, the neighbors, colleagues… everyone!”
If she smiled any wider, her face might’ve cracked.
The next morning, Jenna was on the phone with florists before she even brushed her teeth. She picked a hotel downtown, booked a ballroom, and posted a photo of her ring with the caption:
“Our forever starts now. James & Jenna, forever.”
Meanwhile, I promised the girls that I’d never abandon them. And then I made calls of my own.
The hotel ballroom gleamed in that over-the-top way Jenna adored. There were white linens draped on every table, and floating candles flickered in glass bowls.
Jenna’s cousin played a practiced piano piece near the stage.
Jenna stood near the entrance, glowing in a white lace gown. Her hair was swept up, her makeup precise. She looked like she already believed the night belonged to her.
She floated from guest to guest, smiling, hugging, and kissing cheeks. She stopped briefly to fix the bow on Lily’s dress before turning to Maya and brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
“You girls look perfect,” she said with a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes.
Maya looked at me, then nodded.
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