The Abandoned Wife's Second Chance (Scarlett and Jasper) novel Chapter 75

hapter 75

(Jasper’s POV)

Once the seed of doubt forms, it’s hard to shake off its whispers.

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I watch Virginia, this woman whom I’ve once trusted blindly, talk about how she’ll help me win back Scarlett, and just feel a chill seep into my heart.

I keep reminding myself this is Virginia. The same Virginia, who eleven years ago, almost lost

her life because of me.

I should be paying the debt I owe her, not doubting her.

But try as I might. And I do try. I really, really try not to let Dorian Cross’s words to affect me… still I fail to shake them off.

And so, a week after Virginia proposed to help me win Scarlett back, I receive a mail from Mark Winston with the information I requested.

I sign for it and as I’m closing the door, a text comes from him.

Consider the debt my boss owes you settled. Never contact us again.

I lean against the door, my heart empty and cold. But I don’t have time to dwell on the past, to waste precious time dealing with unnecessary emotions.

I take the mail to my room, and tear the seal open. A stack of papers drop to the floor. But it’s

not the papers that catch my eyes.

It’s the photos of my wife and my newborn daughter that freeze my blood.

(Scarlett’s POV)

Tuesday morning, I receive an invitation. A crisp white paper with the gold seal of the college I graduated from. My hands shake as I read it twice, then a third time to make sure I’m not dreaming.

“They want me to speak about my entrepreneurship experience,” I tell Chloe over the phone. “About how I built my bakery from nothing.”

“Scarlett, that’s amazing! When is it?”

“Next Friday. But I don’t know if I should-”

“Are you kidding me? Of course you’re going. This is huge.” Chloe’s excitement carries

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through the phone. “I’m driving you. No arguments.”

“You don’t have to-”

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“I want to. Besides, someone needs to be there to cheer you on when you blow everyone

away.”

The week passes in a blur of preparation. Blair and James drop in to play with Lily as usual. But I don’t watch over them as I used to anymore.

I practice my speech until I know every word by heart, change my outfit three times, and worry constantly about whether I can do this or not.

“Mama, you look pretty,” Lily says on Friday morning as I adjust my navy blazer for the hundredth time.

“Thank you, habibti.” I kiss the top of her head. “Are you excited to see Mama’s old school?”

She nods enthusiastically. “Will there be other kids there?”

“Some. But you’ll need to be very quiet during Mama’s speech, okay?”

“I promise.”

Chloe arrives right on time, looking polished in her burgundy dress. “Ready to show them what success looks like?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The drive to campus is filled with Chloe’s chatter and Lily’s questions about everything we pass. But my mind keeps drifting to four years ago, when I walked away from this place broken and pregnant, with nothing but a suitcase and shattered dreams.

Now I’m coming back as someone completely different. Someone who built something from nothing. Someone who survived.

“Dorian called,” Chloe says as we pull into the parking lot. “He’s stuck in a meeting but promises to watch the livestream.”

“He doesn’t have to-

“He wants to. That man is completely smitten with you, you know.”

I don’t respond. Dorian has been nothing but kind and supportive, but my heart still feels too raw to think about the future. And until I completely end everything with Jasper, I can’t get involved with another man.

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The lecture hall is bigger than I expected, filled with students, faculty, and local business owners. My palms sweat as I wait backstage, Lily’s hand clasped tight in mine.

“You’ve got this,” Chloe whispers. “Just remember why you’re here.”

The introduction feels endless. Then suddenly, I’m walking onto the stage, the lights bright in my eyes, my heart hammering against my ribs.

I take a deep breath and begin.

“Four years ago, I left this university eight months pregnant and completely alone. I had no job, no plan, and no idea how I was going to survive…”

(Dorian’s POV)

The call comes just as I’m about to join the board meeting. Officer Owen’s name flashes on my screen, and something in my gut clenches with dread.

“Owen? What’s wrong?”

“You might want to see this.” His voice is grim. “I’m sending you a video now.”

My phone buzzes with an incoming file. The timestamp shows it was recorded four years ago, dating about a week after Scarlett left Avalon for Nashville.

I press play and my blood turns to ice.

The footage is grainy, taken from a security camera outside a medical clinic. But the faces are unmistakable. Virginia Stone, talking to a man in scrubs. Money changes hands. Documents are passed back and forth.

“Jesus Christ,” I breathe.

“There’s more,” Owen says. “Dr. Bayli, the main OBGYN physician that helped deliver Ms Scarlett Stone’s daughter, was suspended three years ago for attempted murder. Guess who paid his legal fees?”

“Virginia,”

“Bingo. We’re still digging, but this doesn’t look good.”

I’m already grabbing my keys, my blood turning to ice. “Keep digging. And Owen? If this is what I think it is…”

“I know. I’ll handle it.”

I end the call and race for the parking garage. Scarlett is still at the university right now,

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giving her speech, completely unaware of the danger surrounding her, of what Virginia is capable of.

The drive to campus feels endless. Every red light is an eternity, every slow driver an obstacle to getting to the one I vowed to protect.

I pray to be wrong. For things not to be as extreme as it seems.

But deep down, I know it is.

(Jasper’s POV)

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I ask Virginia as we find seats near the back of the lecture

hall.

“Trust me,” she says, her voice eerily calm. “This will work.”

Something about her tone makes my skin crawl, but before I can question her further, the lights dim and Scarlett walks onto the stage.

My breath catches in my throat.

She’s radiant. Confident in a way I’ve never seen before, standing tall in a navy suit, her dark hijab pinned back elegantly. This isn’t the broken woman I left on that highway. This isn’t even the quiet wife who used to tiptoe around our house.

This is someone entirely new. Someone powerful.

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“Four years ago, I left this town eight months pregnant and completely alone,” she begins, her voice carrying clearly through the hall. “I had no job, no plan, and no idea how I was going to

survive.”

The words hit me in the chest. Eight months pregnant. Alone. All because of me.

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