The Abandoned Wife's Second Chance (Scarlett and Jasper) novel Chapter 82

Chapter 82

(Scarlett’s POV)

“Scarlett?”

I turn around, and there’s Jasper, bags of bread weighing down both his arms. His car is parked in the loading zone, hazard lights blinking.

“I…” My voice catches. “I wanted to apologize. For assuming the worst.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“Yes, I do.” I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly cold despite the afternoon sun. “I keep expecting you to have ulterior motives. Keep waiting for the catch.”

He shifts the bags, wincing slightly at their weight. “I deserve that.”

We stand there in awkward silence, the space between us filled with four years of hurt and misunderstanding. Finally, I take a deep breath.

“Can I come with you?”

He blinks. “What?”

“To the orphanage. Can I come with you to deliver the bread?” The words tumble out before I can stop them. “I know I don’t have the right to ask, but those kids… I made them a promise once. I never kept it.”

Jasper stares at me for so long I start to regret asking. Then his face softens in a way that makes my chest ache.

“They’d love to see you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude on your thing with them. I know it’s been years since-‘

“Scarlett.” His voice is gentle. “You’re not intruding. You never could be.”

I nod quickly, before I can change my mind. “Let me just tell Andrew I’m leaving.”

Back inside the bakery, Andrew is handling the afternoon rush like a pro. I pull him aside quickly.

“I need to step out for a bit. Can you handle things?”

“Of course. Everything okay?”

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“Yeah. Just… something I need to do.” I glance back toward the entrance where Jasper is waiting. “Call me if you need anything. Anything at all.”

“We’ll be fine. Go.”

I send a short text to Chloe asking if she can look after Lily for me. She doesn’t even ask me why, or where I’m headed, and just says she’ll be here in five minutes. Her unconditional support never fails to touch me.

The drive to St. Catherine’s is quiet except for the radio playing softly. I keep my hands folded in my lap, trying not to remember all the times we made this same trip. Back when we were happy. Back when I thought we’d do everything together forever.

“How often do you visit?” I ask, breaking the silence.

“Every Saturday. Sometimes more if they need help with something.” He glances at me. “Sister Margaret is going to cry when she sees you.”

My throat tightens. “She probably hates me for disappearing.”

“She could never hate you. None of them could.”

The orphanage looks exactly the same – red brick building with white trim, playground out front where kids are running around in the late afternoon sun. My heart pounds as we pull

into the parking lot.

Jasper carries most of the bags, but I insist on taking a few. The familiar smell of industrial cleaner and something indefinably institutional hits me as soon as we walk through the front

door.

“Jasper!” A voice calls from down the hallway. “You’re early today!”

Sister Margaret appears around the corner, her gray hair pulled back in its usual neat bun. She’s aged in the four years since I saw her last – more lines around her eyes, moving a little slower. But her smile is exactly the same.

Until she sees me.

“Oh my Lord.” Her hand flies to her chest. “Scarlett? Is that really you?”

“Hello, Sister Margaret.” My voice comes out as a whisper.

She rushes toward me, her arms opening wide. I step into her embrace, and suddenly I’m

crying big, ugly sobs that shake my whole body.

“Shh, child. You’re here now. That’s all that matters.” She rubs my back like she used to when

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I’d get overwhelmed during story time. “Look how beautiful you are. Marriage suits you both

so well.”

I pull back, wiping my eyes. “Sister Margaret, we’re not-”

“Still bringing treats for the children, I see.” She’s already eyeing the bags Jasper is holding. “You two are such a blessing. Such a perfect team.”

Jasper and I exchange a look over her head. The assumption that we’re still together sits between us like a landmine neither of us wants to step on.

“Where should we put everything?” I ask instead.

“The kitchen, of course. The children are just finishing their homework. They’ll be so excited-

She stops mid–sentence, her eyes widening. “You haven’t told them, have you? About Scarlett coming back?”

“I didn’t know she was coming until twenty minutes ago,” Jasper admits.

Sister Margaret clasps her hands together like she’s about to pray. “Oh, this is wonderful. They’re going to be beside themselves with joy.”

She leads us down the familiar hallway, past the common room where I can hear the sound of children’s voices, to the large kitchen that always smelled like vanilla and hope.

“Sister Margaret,” I say as we set the bags on the counter, “I owe you an apology. I promised I’d keep visiting, and then I just… disappeared.”

“Child, life happens. People get busy, move away, start families of their own.” She pats my hand. “What matters is that Jasper never stopped coming. He kept your promise alive on your behalf.”

I look at him across the kitchen island. “What does that mean?”

“Every week,” Sister Margaret continues, “he tells them stories about both of you. Brings pictures sometimes. The children know all about your adventures together, even the ones that happened after you stopped visiting.”

My heart stops. “What adventures? I haven’t seen Jasper in-

“Your baby!” She claps her hands together. “The beautiful child you brought into this world. Jasper never stopped talking about her, though, we only learned about her gender last week.”

The kitchen door bursts open before I can respond.

“Mr. Jasper! You’re early and- MOM SCARLETT!”

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The shriek comes from Jessica, who’s now thirteen and almost as tall as me. But she launches herself at me like she’s still the eight–year–old I remember.

“You’re here! You’re really here!” She’s crying and laughing at the same time. “I knew you’d come back! I told everyone you’d come back!”

More children pour through the door. Some I recognize, grown taller and older. Others are new faces, but they all seem to know exactly who I am.

“Mom Scarlett brought bread!”

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