The Abandoned Wife's Second Chance (Scarlett and Jasper) novel Chapter 123

< Chapter 123

Chapter 123

(Blair’s POV)

“That’s not-

25 Points

“Isn’t it? When was the last time you called me? When was the last time you asked how Lily! was doing, or how the bakery was going, or if I needed anything?”

We both fall silent because we can’t answer. Haven’t called, haven’t visited, haven’t even

texted since we decided to focus on Virginia.

“Scarlett, please…” My voice cracks, tears threatening to spill. “Please, we’ll do anything. We just want to make amends.”

She stares at me for a long moment, and I see the little girl she used to be. The one who would climb into my lap when she had nightmares, who would bring me dandelions and call them beautiful flowers, who would tell me she loved me a hundred times a day.

She lets us pour out our hearts, letting our apologies hang in the air like dust motes in the sunlight. When we finish, she finally, slowly, asks.

“You want to make amends?”

“Yes. Anything.”

“Then leave us alone.”

The words are a blunt knife, striking at the last vestiges of my hope.

“Stop coming here. Stop calling me. Stop trying to see Lily. Please, if you truly wish to make amends, then just leave us alone.”

“Scarlett, you can’t mean that,” James rasps, his face pale.

“I mean it. You’ve made your choice. Virginia is your daughter now. So act like it.”

“But Lily-”

“Is my daughter. Not yours. You gave up the right to be her grandparents when you threw her mother away like garbage.”

“Scarlett,” I try one more time. “Please don’t cut us out completely. We know we messed up, but we can do better. We can-”

“No.” Her voice is final. “You had countless chances and you lost them.”

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< Chapter 123

She walks to the door and opens it, the little bell chiming cheerfully.

“So let’s stop pretending and end this. Go home to your real daughter. Leave me and my daughter in peace.”

“Mama?” Lily’s small voice cuts through the tension. “Are Grandma and Grandpa leaving?”

“Yes, baby. They’re leaving.”

“Will they come back tomorrow?”

Scarlett meets my eyes over our granddaughter’s head, her expression stone cold.

“No, sweetheart. They will never come back again.”

The silence in the bakery, after Scarlett’s final, brutal words, is an anvil. It crushes the air out of the room, leaving me lightheaded and suffocating.

I can’t move, can’t speak, can only stare at the place where my daughter stands, now looking like a stranger armed with a terrible, justified wound.

James, though, is not paralyzed. I feel his hand clamp down hard on my arm–not a comforting grip, but a possessive, furious one. His face is a mask of cold indignation, the kind of anger that only comes with wounded pride.

“Let’s go, Blair,” he mutters, his voice low, tight with fury. He doesn’t wait for me to respond. He simply turns, pulling me along, yanking me out the door like a forgotten shopping bag.

The sudden, physical force breaks my trance, replacing the paralyzing shock with a fresh wave of humiliation.

I stumble to keep up with his long, angry strides. As we reach the car, I risk a glance back. Scarlett is already at the counter, her back to us, meticulously wiping down the espresso machine. The dismissal is complete. We are not even worth a second glance.

James doesn’t say a word until he slams his door shut, starts the engine with a roar, and pulls aggressively into traffic, narrowly missing a delivery van. The silence inside the car is now thick, vibrating with his unspent rage.

That silence is too much. The shock, the guilt, the raw, brutal finality of her words-“They will never come back again“-they all converge, and the dam I’ve been holding back since we saw the bulldozed house finally breaks.

A raw, gasping sob tears out of me, rapidly escalating into an uncontrolled burst of weeping. The tears stream down my face, hot and salty, blurring the passing streetlights into streaks of agonizing color.

2/5

< Chapter 123

+25 Points

I bury my face in my hands, unable to stop the torrent of grief that shakes my entire body.

I am sobbing not just for the loss of my daughter, but for the realization of who I have become: a failure, a coward, a mother who can’t even balance between her two daughters.

I weep for Lily, for the sudden, cruel silence in her small, sweet voice when Scarlett shut her down. I weep for the gutted house, for the erasure of a lifetime of memories. I weep for the irreversible mistake James and I have made.

“Stop crying, Blair,” James’s voice slices through my sobs, sharp and devoid of sympathy.

I pull my hands away from my face, my eyes wide, searching for the familiar comfort of my husband, the man who is supposed to hold me when I break in this man.

He stares straight ahead, his jaw clenched so hard his cheekbones stand out sharply.

“Stop crying,” he repeats, his voice dangerously even. “It’s over. You heard her. She was never our daughter.”

“James… How can you say that? She told us to stay away from Lily. This is a tragedy! We’ve lost her. We’ve lost our granddaughter!”

He slams his hand against the horn in a sudden burst of frustration. “We lost her the minute she left four years ago!”

He glances at me, his eyes blazing with a shocking, wounded malice. “You know what? Maybe it’s time you stopped treating Scarlett as your precious daughter. Treat it as if she never existed!”

His words are an unexpected, brutal assault, instantly turning my grief into stunned disbelief.

“What are you saying?” I whisper, the pain in my chest momentarily eclipsed by the shock of his cruelty.

“I’m saying she’s twenty–seven years old and acting like a petulant teenager!” he spits out, the anger finally bursting forth.

“We came on our knees! We apologized! We took responsibility for our mistake! And she throws it back in our faces! She dismisses us! Us, her parents, who have supported her for her entire life! She’s cold, Blair! She’s callous! She cares more about nursing a grudge than she does about her mother’s feelings or her daughter’s seeing her grandparents!”

“She’s hurting, James! She has every right to be angry!” I protest, finding my voice again, thin and shaky, but gaining strength from my own indignation. “We let her walk into that devastation blind! She just lost her childhood home, for God’s sake!”

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< Chapter 123

+25 Points

“No, Blair. You stop making excuses for her. Her little temper tantrum has gone too far. We are her parents, not slaves. We don’t beg for forgiveness. We demand respect!”

His words hang between us, poisonous and heavy.

Demand respect.

The absolute refusal to acknowledge our true role in her devastation is staggering. He isn’t grieving the loss of his daughter; he is licking the wounds of his pride, angry his child dared to hold him accountable for his bias.

I fall silent, leaning my head against the cold glass of the window. I can’t argue with him. Not now. The sheer, overwhelming exhaustion of the wrecked house, the confrontation, and now, my husband’s callousness, is too much.

If I open my mouth again, I will simply, snap, and James will only condemn me for it. Instead, I let his angry, self–pitying tirade wash over me, tuning out the harsh sound of his voice and retreating into the only place I have left: my memories of Scarlett.

I close my eyes, and find myself back in the warm, sun–drenched living room of the house that no longer exists.

I see a tiny, two–year–old Scarlett, her hair a wild, dark tangle, toddling across the rug, clutching a worn–out bunny. She falls, hard, and instead of crying, she just sits there, her chin wobbling, looking up at me with huge, tear–filled eyes.

I rush to her, scoop her up, and the relief on her face when I hold her is instantaneous. That complete, utter dependence. The unshakeable trust a child could only display to a mother.

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