"Daddy says we're gonna catch the biggest fish at Uncle Jimmy's cottage!" he’d told me. Jimmy is an oldhigh school friend of Reeves who has a place up north. Luckily, I've been there before, and I know exactly where it is.
"Wait," I tell the officer. "Give me two hours. I think I might know where they are."
The drive to Lake Sebago feels endless. My knuckles are white on the steering wheel, my heart hammering against my ribs. What if I'm wrong? What if they're not there?
But when I finally arrive and pull into the gravel driveway, I see Reeves’s truck. Relief floods through me so fast I nearly sob.
I find them on the dock—Liam dangling a fishing line into the water while Reeves spreads peanut butter on crackers. They look peaceful, like a normal father and son having a perfect afternoon.
"Mommy!" Liam jumps up, nearly knocking over their tackle box.
I scoop him into my arms, breathing in his little-boy scent. "Hey, baby. Having fun?"
Reeves stands slowly, his face a mask of guilt and shame. "Jenna, I—"
"You scared me to death." My voice cracks, butthere's no anger in it. Just exhaustion and relief and something that feels dangerously close to forgiveness.
He breaks then, tears streaming down his face. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I just... I wanted one more day with him before everything changes."
I set Liam down and step closer to Reeves. "You should have called me."
"I know." He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. "I know I messed everything up. The gambling, Melissa, all of it. I just... I love you both so much, and I don't know how to let go."
My heart breaks a little. "Part of me will always love you, too. You're Liam's Dad. You were my first love, my best friend. But we can't keep hurting each other."
He nods slowly, his shoulders shaking as fresh tears spill down his cheeks, cutting tracks through the stubble on his face. His dark eyes are red-rimmed and raw with emotion, and I can see the sweet boy I once knew somewhere in that broken expression.
The weight of everything—our failed marriage, his gambling addiction—seems to crash down on him all at once. His breath comes in shaky gasps as he struggles to compose himself, one hand wiping at his face while the other reaches out toward me, then falls back to his side as if he's not sure he has the right to touch me anymore.
I inch closer and press my head against his chest. Hecurls his arms around me and wraps me into a warm bear hug.
"I don't want to lose Liam," he whispers, his words shaky.
"You won't," I tell him. "We'll figure out custody," I say softly. "You're a good dad, Reeves. When you're not drowning in all the other stuff."
We hug harder still, and it feels like saying goodbye to a whole other life.
That evening, I stand at the stove stirring macaroni and cheese, my hands still trembling from the day's events. The simple motion of the wooden spoon against the pot feels grounding, normal. Liam sits at the kitchen table, coloring a picture of the fish he caught today—or rather, the fish he imagined catching, since they came home empty-handed.
"Mommy, why do you look sad?" His sweet voice cuts through my thoughts.
"I'm not sad, baby. Just tired." I force a smile and dump the pasta into a large bowl, steam rising around my face.
But I am sad. Devastated, actually. Seeing Reeves break down today, watching him say goodbye to our old life—it hits me that this is really happening. We're reallyover. And while I know it's the right thing, it doesn't make it hurt any less.
The guilt gnaws at me. Yes, Reeves gambled. Yes, he cheated with Melissa. But I drove him to that final breaking point. I'm not completely innocent in all this. I'm the one who shattered whatever was left of us. Reeves is many things, but he's not stupid. He knew I was falling for Caine.
Maybe he'd known for longer than I realized—seen it in the way I'd started carrying myself differently, the subtle changes in my demeanor when I came home from work. The distant look in my eyes when I thought no one was watching. The way I'd grown quieter during our conversations, more distracted, like part of me was always somewhere else. With someone else. With Caine.
My phone buzzes just as I'm setting Liam's plate in front of him. Caine's name lights up the screen.
"Hey," I answer, walking into the living room.
"How did it go today? I've been worried sick."
I tell him everything—finding them at the cottage, Reeves crying, our goodbye hug. My voice stays steady until I get to the part about Liam asking why I'm sad.
"Jenna, you did the right thing," Caine says softly. "You both did."
