The Abandoned Wife's Second Chance (Scarlett and Jasper) novel Chapter 80

(Scarlett’s POV)

The apartment feels different when Chloe drops us off. Quieter somehow, like the walls are holding their breath after everything that happened tonight.

I try to shake off the strange feeling that’s been shadowing since we left the university as I tell Chloe at the door, “Thank you,” bouncing Lily on my hip. “For everything.”

“Always.” She squeezes my shoulder. “Call me if you need anything, okay? And Scarlett? Don’t overthink tonight. Just… let yourself feel whatever you’re feeling.”

I nod, though I’m not sure what I’m feeling anymore. Relief? Confusion? Hope? It’s all tangled up in my chest like knotted thread.

After Chloe leaves, I focus on the routine. Dinner first – scrambled eggs and toast because I’m too drained to cook anything complicated. Lily chatters about the university, about how pretty the stage looked, about seeing Daddy.

After dinner, I run her a bath. The warm water and lavender soap seem to wash away some of the evening’s tension from both of us. By the time I tuck her into bed, she’s yawning and rubbing her eyes.

“Will you sing to me?” she asks, pulling her blanket up to her chin.

I settle beside her and sing the Arabic lullaby my mother used to sing to me. The one about the moon watching over sleeping children. My voice cracks on the familiar words, but Lily doesn’t notice. She’s already drifting off, her breathing evening out.

The shower I take afterward is scalding hot, but it doesn’t wash away the memory of Jasper’s voice on that stage. The way he looked directly at me when he said those words.

She was my first love, my greatest love, and my biggest regret.

I press my forehead against the tile wall and let the water pour over me until it runs cold.

By the time I climb into bed, exhaustion should take over. But my mind won’t quiet. Every time I close my eyes, I see Jasper crouched down to Lily’s level. The tears in his eyes when he hugged her. The hope in his voice when he asked if he could spend time with her.

Sleep comes eventually, but it brings no peace,

I’m walking down a street I don’t recognize, my belly huge and heavy. Everything hurts – my back, my feet, my heart. The buildings around me are tall and unfamiliar, nothing like home.

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“You don’t belong here,” a voice says behind me.

I turn, but no one’s there. Just empty sidewalks and the smell of rain in the air.

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The pain hits without warning. Sharp, cramping agony that doubles me over. I reach for my phone, but my hands are shaking too hard to dial.

“Help,” I whisper, but my voice is lost in the wind.

Strong hands grab my arms, pulling me toward a white van. I try to fight, but I’m too weak, too

scared.

“Please,” I beg. “My baby-”

“That’s exactly why we’re here.”

The hospital smells like bleach and fear. The doctor has kind eyes, but her hands shake as she prepares the needle.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’m so sorry. Someone paid me… they said it would be quick, that you wouldn’t suffer.”

“No!” I try to sit up, but the restraints hold me down. “My baby, please don’t hurt my baby-”

“It’s not personal,” she says, and the needle slides into my arm. Fire spreads through my veins. “But someone wants both of you gone.”

The world spins. Goes dark. In the distance, I hear crying – a baby’s cry.

My baby…

I jolt awake, my heart hammering against my ribs. For a moment, I don’t know where I am. The room is dark, unfamiliar shadows creeping across the walls.

Then I remember. I’m home. Safe. Lily is sleeping in the next room.

But my hands are shaking, and there’s cold sweat on my forehead. The dream felt so real.

Too real.

I slip out of bed and pad to Lily’s room on bare feet. She’s curled up in her toddler bed, one arm wrapped around her stuffed elephant, breathing deep and steady. Safe.

I sink into the chair beside her bed, pulling my knees to my chest. It was just a nightmare. Just my mind processing the stress of the evening, of seeing Jasper again, of everything that’s been happening.

But pieces of it felt like memories. The hospital in Nashville when Lily was born. The

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complications that almost killed us both. The doctor who seemed nervous, who kept checking her phone, who gave me medication that made everything worse instead of better.

“Just paranoia,” I whisper to myself. “You were scared and alone, and now you’re imagining things.”

But the unease won’t leave. It sits in my stomach like a stone, heavy and cold.

I stay in that chair as the hours crawl by. Every time I start to doze, the dream comes creeping back. The white van. The needle. The doctor’s shaking hands.

Someone wants both of you gone.

By the time sunlight starts filtering through the blinds, I haven’t slept at all. My eyes are gritty and my head pounds, but at least the nightmares can’t follow me into daylight.

Lily wakes up chattering about pancakes, and I force myself through the morning routine. Coffee first – strong and black. Then breakfast, though I can barely taste it.

“Mama, you look tired,” Lily observes, studying my face with the intensity only a child can

manage.

“A little,” I admit, smoothing her hair. “But I’m okay.”

I’m not okay, though. I feel hollowed out, scraped raw. Like someone took sandpaper to my nerves and left them exposed.

I’m staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, trying to make myself look human, when my phone rings. Dorian’s name flashes on the screen.

For a second, I consider letting it go to voicemail. I don’t have the energy for conversation right now. But something makes me answer.

“Hello?”

“Scarlett.” His voice is warm, concerned. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Tired,” I say honestly. “It was a long night.”

“I can imagine. Your speech was incredible, by the way. I know I said it before, but I wanted to tell you again. What you’ve accomplished… it’s remarkable.”

Something in his tone makes my throat tight. There’s no agenda in his voice, no hidden meaning. Just genuine admiration.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

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“Actually, that’s why I’m calling. I have an idea, and I hope you’ll hear me out.”

I sink onto the edge of the bathtub. “Okay.”

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“I’ve been thinking about your story. About everything you went through to build your bakery, to create something beautiful from nothing.” He pauses. “You deserve to reach more people, Scarlett. Your work deserves to be seen and tasted by everyone who needs that kind of hope in their lives.”

“Dorian-”

“Let me take you on a tour today. I want to show you the flagship location of my stores. There’s a space that would be perfect for you – prime location, beautiful setup. You could reach so many more people.”

My first instinct is to say no. To keep my bakery small and safe and mine. But there’s something in his voice that stops me.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for something that big.”

“You are.” His certainty is unwavering. “You’ve already proven you can do anything. This is just the next step.”

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