The Abandoned Wife's Second Chance (Scarlett and Jasper) novel Chapter 93

Chapter 93

(Scarlett’s POV)

I’m helping Lily button her red velvet dress when my phone buzzes. Jasper’s name flashes on the screen, and my stomach does that stupid flutter.

His text is simple: “Can Lily and I spend Christmas together? I know it’s last minute, but maybe we could celebrate as a family today.”

As a family. The words hit harder than they should.

Lily looks up from struggling with her patent leather shoes. “Is that Daddy?”

“Yes.” I stare at the message, thumb hovering over the keyboard. “He wants to spend Christmas with us.”

Her face lights up like the Christmas tree downtown. “Can we, Mama? All three of us together?”

The hope in her voice breaks something inside me. After the divorce, Jasper will move on. Probably marry Virginia, start over. Lily might have to split holidays between two homes forever.

This might be her last Christmas with both parents.

I type back before I can change my mind: “Lily would love that. Where should we meet?”

His response comes immediately: “Remember that little restaurant on Pine Street? Where we went for our first Christmas dinner?”

My breath catches. He remembers.

“Perfect. Give us an hour.”

I set the phone down and find Lily staring at me with wide eyes.

“We’re going to see Daddy?”

“We’re going to celebrate Christmas with Daddy,” I confirm, and her squeal of joy almost makes the tight feeling in my chest lessen.

Almost.

My phone buzzes again. Dorian: “Ready for that Christmas brunch? Found an amazing place with a kids‘ menu.”

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Guilt twists in my stomach. He’s been so patient, so understanding. But when I think about explaining to Lily why she can’t see her father on Christmas…

I call instead of texting.

“Hey,” he answers on the second ring.

“I’m so sorry, Dorian. Jasper asked to spend the holiday with Lily, and she’s so excited about having both parents together-”

“She should have one Christmas where her whole family is together.”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I know you made plans-”

“Scarlett.” His voice is warm, understanding in a way that makes my chest ache. “You made the right decision. Lily comes first. Always.”

“Thank you.”

“Have a beautiful day. Send me pictures.”

After I hang up, I stare at myself in the mirror. The burgundy sweater brings out my eyes, and the gray scarf from Switzerland… God, it still looks perfect. Like it was made for me.

An hour later, Lily and I walk down Pine Street hand in hand. Snow falls gently, coating the Christmas decorations in pristine white. Store windows glow with warm light, and garland wraps around every lamppost.

The sidewalks buzz with families in their finest clothes, children running between their parents, the air filled with laughter and Christmas carols.

1 spot Jasper before he sees us. He’s standing outside the little Italian restaurant where we had our first Christmas together, wearing the navy coat from my dreams. When he turns and sees us, his entire face transforms.

“Lily!” He scoops her up as she runs to him, spinning her around while she giggles. “My baby girl looks like a princess!”

“Daddy, look at my dress! It has sparkles!”

“It does. It’s the most beautiful dress in the whole city,” he says, setting her down to examine the red velvet. Then his gaze moves to me and stops. “And Mama looks like a Queen.”

My heart skips, heat creeping up my neck. I touch my scarf self–consciously. “Thank you for inviting us.”

“No, thank you for accepting my invitation.”

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Inside the restaurant, nothing has changed. Same warm lighting, same family photos on the walls, same elderly owner who took our orders years ago.

“Mr. and Mrs. Blake!” he exclaims, rushing over with a huge smile. “And this beautiful little girl must be your daughter!”

Neither of us corrects the ‘Mrs. part. That’s a topic best left out of discussion.

He guides us to the same corner table from five years ago. The memory sits between us, unspoken but powerful.

Lily chatters nonstop about school, her friends, the story she wrote about a brave princess who saves a dragon. Jasper hangs on every word like she’s reciting poetry, asking questions, laughing at her jokes.

“And then the dragon became her best friend and they flew around the world!”

“That’s incredible,” Jasper says. “You’re such a good storyteller. Just like your mama.”

He looks at me when he says it, and heat creeps up my neck.

When the food arrives, Jasper takes over without asking. He fills my plate first, making sure I get the pieces I like best, the right amount of sauce. For a moment, watching him serve me while Lily talks about her drawings, I can almost pretend we’re normal. That the last four years were just a nightmare, that Virginia never existed.

The illusion is so beautiful it hurts.

After lunch, we walk through the nearby park where a Christmas festival is in full swing. There are games for children, face painters, and carolers dressed like Victorian Christmas

cards.

Lily drags us from booth to booth, wanting to try everything.

“Mama, can I get my face painted?”

“Of course, baby.”

While we wait in line, I feel it – that strange sensation of being watched. My skin prickles, and

I turn around, scanning the crowd.

Children laughing. Couples holding hands. Nothing unusual.

“You okay?” Jasper asks, following my gaze.

“Yeah, just… felt like someone was watching us.”

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There’s no one suspicious. I shake my head and focus on the carolers singing “O Holy Night.”

Lily emerges from the face painting tent with a red–nose, horns, complete with tiny gold

ornaments.

“Look, Daddy! I’m a reindeer!”

“The most beautiful reindeer in the whole world,” he says, lifting her so she can see herself in his phone camera.

We spend the afternoon moving from activity to activity. Jasper wins Lily a stuffed reindeer at the ring toss. We share hot chocolate topped with whipped cream that leaves white mustaches on our lips. Lily insists on pictures with both of us, her small arms stretched wide to pull us close.

In one photo, Jasper’s arm is around my waist, my head tilted slightly toward his shoulder. For that split second, captured forever, we look like what we used to be.

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