The Abandoned Wife's Second Chance (Scarlett and Jasper) novel Chapter 150

Chapter 150

(Dorian’s POV)

+25 Points

I smile bitterly at the sound of the dial tone. She hung up on me. For her ex, she actually hung

up on me.

This should make me mad, angry, even. The woman I’m dreaming of building a family with is busy playing house with her ex.

But I don’t feel mad. I don’t even feel angry. All I feel is worry and fear.

Scarlett doesn’t even realize what’she’s getting herself into. The mess surrounding Jasper Blake, Virginia Stone’s obsession with him, everything goes far deeper than even I expected.

If it wasn’t for this trip…

I can’t even imagine.

How did Scarlett survive those four years outside of Avalon? She was a single woman, not to mention, already eight months pregnant.

Her adoptive parents were too caught up in the joy of finding their so–called biological daughter to care about her absence.

While Jasper…though he searched for her like a man possessed in every state, every city, he couldn’t find her until she decided to show herself.

So how did Scarlett survive those four years outside of Avalon with the demons of Jasper Blake’s past haunting her? With Virginia Stone hiring thugs to take her life?

This whole situation is confusing, and I can’t help but wonder if Scarlett is as simple as she appears, or if there is more to her than meets the eye.

Either way, I can’t stay here anymore. I need to return to Avalon. I need to return to her side. I need to protect her and Lily until I get to the bottom of this mystery.

(Scarlett’s POV)

“You’re doing it wrong.‘”

I look up from the hospital tray where I’m attempting to cut Jasper’s chicken into bite–sized pieces. He’s watching me with barely concealed amusement, his eyes sparkling in a way I haven’t seen in years.

“Excuse me?”

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“The chicken. You’re cutting it like you’re performing surgery.” He reaches over and takes the knife from my hand, our fingers brushing. “Small pieces, not microscopic ones. I’m injured,

not toothless.”

Despite everything, I feel my lips twitch. “The doctor said-”

“The doctor said I have a concussion, not that I need my food pureed.” He cuts a normal–sized piece and pops it into his mouth, chewing with exaggerated satisfaction. “See? Still have all my teeth.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re beautiful when you’re annoyed.”

Heat floods my cheeks. This playful, flirtatious version of Jasper is dangerous. It reminds me too much of the early days, when he used to tease me until I blushed, then kissed me until I forgot why I was mad.

“Eat your dinner,” I mutter, looking away.

“Only if you eat too. You’ve been here for three days and I’ve barely seen you touch food.”

“I’m fine.”

“Letty.” His voice goes soft, serious. “When’s the last time you had a real meal?”

I can’t remember. Everything since the accident has been a blur of hospital food and vending machine coffee.

“That’s what I thought.” He pushes his tray toward me. “Here. We’ll share.”

“Jasper, that’s your dinner-”

“And you’re my wife. What’s mine is yours, remember?”

The words shouldn’t affect me the way they do. I shouldn’t feel this warm flutter in my chest, this dangerous softening.

But I do.

I pick up a fork and take a small bite of mashed potatoes. He watches me with satisfaction, then continues eating his own food.

“Tell me about the orphanage,” he says between bites. “How are the kids?”

Right. In his timeline, we went to the orphanage together every Saturday. He doesn’t know I own my own bakery now. That I barely have time to spend with our daughter, let alone go to

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Chapter 150

the orphanage every Saturday.

“It’s good. Busy.”

“Are they still letting you experiment with new recipes?”

+245 Porita

I think of my bakery, my kingdom where I create whatever my heart desires. “Yeah. I have a lot of creative freedom.”

“Good.” He smiles. “You’re too talented to just follow someone else’s recipes. You should open your own place someday.”

The irony makes my throat tight. “Maybe.”

“Not maybe. Definitely.” He reaches across and takes my hand. “You’re going to be famous, Letty. People are going to come from all over just to taste your bread.”

Tears prick my eyes. Five years ago, I never saw bakery as a passion to turn into a career. Before deciding to leave him, I didn’t see bakery as a possible career for me at all.

For goodness’s sake, I was an international Relations Major. Bakery and foreign relations were as far apart as the mountains and seas.

But even before then, Jasper believed I would become famous. Before I had the courage to believe in myself, he already believed in me.

“What’s wrong?” He frowns, concerned. “Did I say something?”

“No, I just…” I swallow hard. “I didn’t know you thought that highly of my baking skills.”

“Sweetheart, don’t you ever notice how I gobble up the banana bread you make? Those weren’t for show. You’re the best baker I know.” He squeezes my hand. “Even if you do cut chicken like a crazy person sometimes.”

I laugh in spite of myself, and something in his face lights up.

“There it is. I was wondering when I’d get to see that smile again.”

“What smile?”

“The one that makes your face glow, and my heart flutter.” He brings my hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles. “I haven’t seen it since I saw your face. I’ve missed it.” The door opens abruptly, breaking the moment. Virginia stands in the doorway, her face turning pale, then beet red, before tightening into a forced pleasantness.

“I brought coffee,” she announces, holding up a carrier with three cups. “Thought everyone

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could use some.”

+25 Points

Jasper’s expression shutters, the warmth fading. “That’s thoughtful, Virginia. Thank you.”

She hands me a cup with a brittle smile, then gives one to Jasper. Our fingers brush and she holds on just a second too long.

“How are you feeling?” she asks him, her voice dripping with concern.

“Better. Scarlett’s been taking good care of me.”

“I’m sure she has.” The words are pleasant, but her eyes are ice when they meet mine. “Though she must be exhausted. I could take over if you need a break, Scarlett.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you? Because you look terrible.”

Jasper’s jaw tightens. “Virginia, thank you for the offer, but I don’t want the care of anyone other than my wife.” He looks at me, a smile in his eyes. “Of course, if she’s tired, I can take care of her as well.”

“I’m just worried about her.” Virginia turns those doe eyes on him. “We both know how Scarlett pushes herself too hard. Remember last year when she worked herself sick?”

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