Chapter 11

Yvonne froze. It was the first time she’d ever seen Jared and me fight. Before, whenever we argued, I always gave in first to keep the peace. But today was different. I didn’t apologize or back down.

“Daddy, Mommy, please stop.” Yvonne burst into tears. She clung to Jared’s arm, wiping her eyes. “I don’t want you to fight. Please don’t do this.”

Jared looked at me, his voice cold. “Work isn’t negotiable. You can keep your little hobbies, but you’re not walking away from our family.”

He bent down, lifted Yvonne into his arms, grabbed her tiny backpack, and walked out.

I didn’t shed a single tear. To be honest, I wasn’t even mad. I had seen this coming.

“Mrs. Holcomb, are you okay?” Wendy and Joyce asked, their voices worried.

I smiled, “I’m fine. Sorry about the mess–can you clean it up?” Then I grabbed my purse and car keys and left.

I drove around aimlessly, the wind whipping through the open window, lifting my scarf. Behind my sunglasses, my eyes started to burn.

I married a rich guy and lived this shiny life. To everyone else, I should’ve been carefree and happy. And maybe I was, once. But I’d gotten stuck in my head, slowly falling apart.

I thought after that fight, Jared wouldn’t ask me to lunch. But around eleven, while I was sitting in a café, sipping bitter coffee, he texted to ask where I was.

I snapped a quick pic and sent it to him. He told me to meet him at a restaurant downstairs from his office at noon.

I headed to the restroom and touched up my makeup. If Jared wanted to treat me like his arm candy, fine, I’d play the game.

When I showed up, the noisy crowd went quiet. The guys couldn’t even look me in the eyes. They got all polite, keeping their voices low. Some mumbled “hi,” and I smiled back. Others tossed out compliments, and I gave a nod of thanks.

I made my way to Jared, who stood there in a crisp suit, over six feet tall, looking sharp. I was killing it–absolutely stunning. We must’ve looked perfect together.

Then I saw Tracy, sitting right beside Jared. She had on a gray blazer, shoulder-length hair, looking smart and put-together.

She acted casual, but her watch was a quarter-million-dollar piece, her necklace worth tens of thousands. She was subtly flexing her wealth.

Tracy glanced up at me but didn’t say a thing.

Jared motioned for me to sit. Then everyone started chatting, digging into their food. Halfway through the meal, some guy came over to toast Jared.

Jared was clearly feeling himself today–his picture-perfect wife on one side, his sharp mistress on the other. The other guys couldn’t help but stare with pure jealousy.

I did him a favor, acting like I had no clue who Tracy really was. I smiled, worked the room, and kept up appearances. Guys were checking me out with those hungry looks, but I played dumb and ignored them.

Jared had drunk quite a lot, a faint flush coloring his handsome face.

When a guy tried to toast, Tracy stepped in. “Mr. Holcomb can’t drink more,” she said. “He’s got a meeting this afternoon.”

The guy quickly smoothed things over with some glib remarks and dropped the idea of toasting.

Obviously, Tracy had clout at the company, and everyone treated her with respect.

I could tell it was a silent provocation aimed at me. But I acted like I didn’t catch it. Why bother? I was already done with this marriage. If she wanted that jerk Jared, she could have him.

Tracy seemed off today, her face blank the whole time.

Finally, lunch wrapped up, and I got ready to go.

Jared was clearly drunk, unable to stand steady. Suddenly, he leaned into me, his hands reaching out to wrap around me in a hug.

I saw Tracy raise her hand to help him up, but her arm froze midway.

Back in the day, I would have killed for Jared’s touch. Now, his embrace felt empty, and I even wanted to shove him away.

But with all the executives watching, I didn’t want to embarrass him. I gently nudged him off and signaled a male assistant to help him steady.

Jared gave me a deep, intense look, his eyes burning red. “Where are you heading this afternoon?” he asked.

“I’ve got class,” I replied. “Send someone else to pick up Yvonne.”

Jared frowned, as if my not picking up the kid was some huge crime. “Yvonne wants you to get her,” he said, clearly displeased.

“I really don’t have time,” I said, shaking my head. “Why don’t you find someone she likes to pick her up? I think Tracy would be perfect.”

Tracy stood nearby, her face tense and her lips pressed tightly together.

Jared glanced back at her and asked almost deliberately, “Tracy, you free?”

Tracy jumped to answer. “Yeah. I’ll pick up Yvonne and take her to dinner afterward.”