<b>Chapter </b><b>13 </b>
The <b>scene </b>in those photos looked warm and cozy, but to me, it was nothing short of humiliating.
I <b>knew </b>exactly why that woman had <b>posted </b>them–I’d blown off the event <b>she </b>organized, and now she <b>was </b>getting revenge <b>by </b>exposing my messed<b>–</b>up family situation and making me look like a total joke. What a low blow.
I didn’t let her get away with it. As soon <b>as </b><b>I </b>saw those photos, <b>I </b>called her.
“Victoria<b>?</b><b>” </b>she answered, sounding all smiley.
“Delete those photos from your Twitter,” <b>I </b>said, my voice cold.
Her smile vanished from her tone, and her voice oozed with fake innocence. “What? I was just sharing some cute pictures of the kids baking cakes together.”
“But your little feel–good moment doesn’t give you the right to mess with someone’s marriage. I know your husband does business with the Hobs. Jared might be easy–going, but if he catches wind of these photos…” I trailed off.
“I’ll delete them right now.” She caved fast. But before hanging up, she snickered, “Heard Mr. Hob chatting about kids- sounds like he wants a son. And his assistant gets along well with your daughter. Be real, Victoria–doesn’t that scare you?”
I let out a coldugh. “If you think your marriage is too perfect, go ahead and check your husband’s phone. Bet you’d find some interesting stuff.”
She hung up with a sharp click.
From what I’d seen, rich guys were always restless. Their wives all knew the deal, and not one of them got to have thestugh. But me? I didn’t love Jared anymore. Nothing he did could hurt me now.
I took a shower, did my skincare, then did a few quick bed exercises to stay toned before finally falling asleep. That night, Jared didn’t bring Yvonne home again.
The next morning, I was eating breakfast when Sally, my mother–inw, walked in. She was in her fifties, a little plump, with that obvious money vibe. Her hair was a bold burgundy color, way trendier than mine.
“Hi, Sally,” I said, standing up to greet her.
She shot me a re. “What’s your problem? Yvonne says you hit hertely. And you didn’t even pick her up from school. How can you be so mean to your kid?”
A cold sweat broke out as I suddenly remembered how sneaky Yvonne was. She’d go around spreading rumors, getting everyone to call me out. And Sally was her most powerful ally.
Faced with Sally’s scolding, I couldn’t argue. It was true, after all.
I smiled and exined, “Yvonne’s six now–she’s a big girl. I just want her to learn to be independent. It’s not as serious as you thought. How could I not love her?”
Sally frowned, “She’s way too little for that ‘independent‘ stuff. She needs your love more than anything. And listen, girls are sensitive about their appearance. You can’t keep hitting her–what if you leave a mark? She’s the only granddaughter in the Hob family.”
Yvonne wasn’t a boy, but she looked and acted so much like Jared. So, Sally had always spoiled her.
“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind,” <b>I </b>said. I didn’t want to pick a fight with anyone, not before I got my fair share of the divorce
settlement.
Sally plopped down on the couch. I made her <b>a </b>cup of coffee myself. Since she <b>was </b><b>here</b>, I might <b>as </b>well bring up what was on my mind. “I want to <b>get </b>a job,” <b>I </b><b>said </b>straightforwardly.
Sally froze mid<b>–</b><b>sip</b><b>. </b>“You’ve been a housewife for <b>six </b>years. What do you think you can do?”
A sharp pain stabbed my heart. But fortunately, it was only <b>six </b><b>years</b>. If it had been sixty, I would havepletely wasted my
entire life<b>. </b>