Chapter 223
Nearing the entrance, Jared’s low voice, carrying clearly in the quiet corridor, stopped me cold. “You’ve just suffered a loss, Tracy. Focusing on Heslye Hotel isn’t the time to dive back into the fray.”
“You don’t need to return here. Your family’s business offers far better prospects for you. Amy might lack your technical expertise, but she navigates the political landscape effectively. There’s no problem.”
After a pause, he continued, “Any update on Mom and Yvonne’s flight schedule?”
“Thanks for looking after them,” Jared murmured, his voice softening slightly. “I’ll find a way to express my gratitude.”
Silently, I retreated, melting back into the corridor shadows. Only after Jared concluded his call and returned to his office did I approach again.
Jared sat hunched over his desk, brow deeply furrowed, jabbing an impatient finger at a stack of documents. At my entrance, his head snapped up.
“Meeting concluded?”
I approached his desk, my expression blank. The acrid smell of cigarettes clung heavily to him – evidence of more than a brief smoke break.
Without glancing at the document, Jared scrawled his signature and thrust it back toward me. “Yvonne returns tomorrow afternoon. Dinner together that evening?”
I met his gaze, my own utterly devoid of warmth. “No. Enjoy your dinner.”
“Victoria,” frustration hardened his voice and features, “I understand your animosity towards me. But Yvonne? Why punish her?”
I considered briefly. “The moment she expressed a preference for another mother,” I stated, my voice glacial, “my sense of obligation evaporated.”
His face went utterly still, then contorted into a scowl. “She’s a child, Victoria. Childish prattle! And you’re holding that against her?”
“At three, perhaps not,” I conceded, my tone deceptively mild. “But she starts school this year. She should grasp basic right and wrong. She should understand consequences. She is seven.”
My icy detachment clearly horrified him. “She is your daughter,” he bit out, each word sharp. “Your blood flows in her veins. How can you be so cavalier about discarding her?”
“What if I am reluctant?” I countered coldly. “Would that change a single, solitary thing?”
“To reject motherhood so utterly,” he finally struck, “isn’t that the ultimate failure?”
The words landed like a physical blow. Silence hung heavy for a moment. Then, my voice emerged, colder than ice. “Failure? Divorce? Letting go? That isn’t failure, Jared. That’s excising a mistake. That’s finally seeing clearly.”
“Victoria,” his voice rose, sharp with disbelief and anger, “where did this twisted perspective come from? Who filled your head with this poison? The woman I knew would never be like this.”
I watched his fury erupt at my transformation, at the loss of the woman he thought he owned. Losing his grip on me was clearly an intolerable wound to his pride.
“Jared,” I held his gaze, unwavering, “I know this much: cutting your losses is infinitely wiser than clinging to the rotting corpse of a dead marriage.”
His face drained of color as the brutal metaphor struck home. He seemed to deflate, his rigid posture collapsing into the chair like a puppet’s strings. Angry fingers drummed a furious staccato on the polished wood. “Fine. Splendid.”
Watching Jared’s near-frenzy, a memory ambushed me: my former self, the ultimate fool. Denied even the catharsis of rage, I had shrunk into the shadows, a spectral observer haunting the edges of their contentment.
I turned and walked out. Behind me, the sound of something heavy being slammed onto the floor echoed sharply. A cold sneer touched my lips. Couldn’t even take that? His famed emotional control was clearly thinner than I’d believed.
Jared’s overheard conversation confirmed it: contact with Tracy had never ceased. He’d even deferred to her for Sally and Yvonne’s return schedule. Proof positive she’d orchestrated their trip – likely escorting them to the airport personally.
Jared had promised to express his gratitude. Maybe he planned to gift wrap himself? Go ahead, Jared. Throw yourself at her feet. By all means.