<b>Chapter </b><b>20 </b>
“Fine,” I replied, closing my eyes to signal the discussion was <b>over</b>.
Like sand, <b>men </b><b>escaped </b>when held too tightly. Push them too hard, and they’d only push back harder. It wasn’t worth the fight.
y by their rules, and their better nature might show itself. That was when a smart woman could im her advantage.
I knew <b>Jared </b>from before–knew the only way to get anything from him was to y vulnerable. Let him pity me, and I might <b>just </b><b>get </b>what I wanted.
The hours at the hospital passed quickly. Before we knew it, evening had arrived. Yvonne’s cut turned out to be shallow, <b>so </b>after changing the dressing, the doctor cleared us to leave.
Our usually dramatic daughter actually grew more cautious after the scare.
Yvonne’s injury kept her home from school the next day. Though she pleaded forpany, I prioritized the hotel negotiations at Jared’spany, confident the servants would care for her properly.
Jared frowned when I didn’t offer to cancel my ns and stay at home.
This time around, I could no longer fake motherly affection, and Jared’s silent stares made it clear he’d marked the change
in me.
The powder–blue dress hugged my curves as I perfected my makeup.
Jared’s voice came from beyond the bedroom door. “You’re really going to the office? Yvonne needs you right now.”
“She’ll manage.” I fastened my earrings. “Six is plenty old to start learning self–reliance.”
“You’ve changed, Victoria,” Jared said, his gaze sweeping over me. “There was a time when you’d drop everything the moment Yvonne cried. A single cough would keep you glued to her side for days.”
“She’s not a baby anymore. Six–year–olds don’t need constant coddling. I walked myself to school at that age.” Even as I said it, I knew how hollow it sounded.
At six<b>, </b>she was caught between babyhood and childhood—still clinging to me one moment, yet quick to take her future stepmother’s side against me the next.
Without another word, Jared disappeared downstairs tofort Yvonne. The tantrum ended with his promises of a pony for the backyard.
I watched his indulgence with quiet satisfaction. He’d regret spoiling her like this.
In my previous life, he’d handed his entirepany to Yvonne. She burned through hundreds of millions in a single year, a testament to her talent for financial ruin.
“Don’t you love me anymore, Mom?” Yvonne sniffled from the couch, her injured leg carefully positioned. “You’re all dressed up to leave me when I’m hurt.”
“Love’s more than words, darling,” I said, smoothing my dress<b>. </b>“I need to work so we can have nice things. Listen to Joyce and Wendy, and call me if you need anything.”
Her six<b>–</b>year–old mind struggled with this twisted economics lesson.
Jared finally emerged from his constion mission. “We can ride together,” he said, eyeing my approach to my <b>own </b><b>car</b>.
“No, I might need to go outter.” I wasn’t about to spend time trapped in a car with a man I barely tolerated anymore.
His car disappeared down the driveway without another word.
As I pulled away, a thrill ran through me–this independence would’ve terrified my past self. Jared’s money had kept mefortable, but I refused to beg for another cent.