<b>Chapter </b><b>7 </b>
Melissa <b>was </b><b>way </b>more panicked than I was. She gripped my hand, terrified I’d make a scene. After all, Jared was a big–shot executive. <b>She </b>probably figured if we <b>caused </b>a public embarrassment, I’d end up regretting it.
“Victoria, I’m <b>so </b>sorry. <b>I</b>–I had no clue…” Melissa stammered, worried I might do something crazy.
I patted her hand gently and whispered, “It’s fine. Where’s our table? Let’s go sit.”
<b>Melissa’s </b>eyes went wide in disbelief–my calm must’ve thrown her off. “Victoria…” she started, then trailed off.
I <b>gave </b><b>a </b>cool smile. “I know that woman. She’s Jared’s assistant, Tracy. No big deal.”
Melissa peeked over quickly, let out a breath, and led me to our table.
Maybe my dress–part innocent, part sexy–was too eye–catching, but Jared spotted me right away. And plenty of guys around us couldn’t help but look up at me, too.
“Mom!” Yvonne suddenly stood up and called out.
I turned and waved, but she didn’t budge. Instead, she nced right at Tracy beside her.
Tracy looked over at me. Then she reached out, brushing Yvonne’s hair gently, and whispered something in her ear. But Yvonne just hung back, not moving.
Jared stood <ol><li>me. </li></ol>
up, took Yvonne’s small hand, and walked her over. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his eyes sweeping over
Melissa perked up, smiling brightly. “Mr. Hob, I invited Victoria to dinner.”
Jared nodded politely at her and then nudged Yvonne. “Say hello.”
Yvonne mumbled reluctantly, “Hi, Melissa.”
Melissa gushed right away. “Yvonne, you’re getting so pretty, and you’ve grown so much taller.”
Jared looked at me, then at Tracy, and finally at Yvonne. “Want to go with your mom?” he asked.
“No.” Yvonne shook her head firmly. “I’m done eating. Tracy said she’ll take me to the arcadeter. I wanna go.”
“Alright.” Jared nodded and turned to me. “We’re heading out.”
I gave a small smile, calm as could be. “Okay.”
Jared stared at me, confused. Clearly, he hadn’t expected this–no scene, no anger, not even a question about the short- haired woman or what she meant to him.
He took Yvonne back to their table, grabbed their stuff, and hurried off.
Melissa watched them disappear through the door, then turned to me, her face full of sympathy. “I’m so sorry, Victoria. I shouldn’t have picked this restaurant–I never should’ve let you see something that’d hurt you.”
“I’m not hurt,” I said, my voice steady. “Melissa, I don’t care about Jared anymore.”
“What?” Melissa’s jaw dropped.
I sipped my coffee, letting out <b>a </b>bitterugh. <b>“</b><b>If </b><b>a </b>guy’s that <b>clueless</b>, trying <b>to </b>control him is just <b>a </b><b>total </b>waste of time. Now that he wants to fool around out there, let him.”
“Are you really okay<b>?</b>” Melissa asked, her <b>voice </b>filled with concern.
“Nope. I’m just finally seeing things. All these <b>years</b>, I’ve been focused on Jared and Yvonne. It <b>was </b>exhausting, and I never <b>even </b>got <b>a </b>thank–you,” I said calmly.
Melissa’s eyes instantly welled up, and she felt even more sorry for me, as if I was forcing myself to hold back my hurt, putting on a brave front.
I picked up my wine ss and held it out to her. “Don’t look at me like that. Let’s celebrate. New chapter, remember? Wish <b>me </b>a good future–young, pretty, healthy, and free<b>.</b><b>” </b>