The Housewife's Return To Her Alluring Prime - Chapter 20: Chapter 20

I avoided mother-daughter bonding whenever possible. But when forced, I endured it.
Jared drove us himself while his driver collected Yvonne.
My memories from before were fading, and this life wasn't following the same script. I had no idea what would happen next—but whatever it was, I refused to be walked over again.
Jared had chosen an upscale Falansia bistro. When we arrived, Yvonne was sprawled across the sofa, her young face already bearing the cynical expression that didn't belong on a child.
"You're late," Yvonne said by way of greeting, her voice dripping with teenage disdain.
"We hit some traffic," Jared offered quietly. "Order whatever you'd like, sweetheart."
"I want chocolate, ice cream, and all the greasy fried food," Yvonne demanded, proving once again that forbidden treats were always the most tempting.
In my previous life, I'd kept strict bans on these "unhealthy" foods, leading to endless tantrums as Yvonne fought for every bite.
Jared looked to me for support, and then murmured when I stayed silent, "Those will upset your stomach, sweetheart. You don't want to end up at the doctor's."
"Mom's saying no again, isn't she?" Yvonne curled into a defensive ball, her small back turned to us. "It's not fair. Grown-ups eat whatever they want!"
"Let her have what she wants," I said, sinking into the chair beside Jared.
"Since when do we allow this?" Jared's eyebrows shot up at my sudden change of heart.
I smiled. "Look how upset she is. Children have so few choices. We adults get to pick every meal, while they eat what we decide. From now on, I won't be so strict about what you eat, Yvonne. Go ahead and order whatever you'd like."
"Really?" Her whole face brightened as she scrambled over to cling to my arm. "Mom, you should've done this ages ago. Then I wouldn't have yelled at you. Dad, hurry up and order."
Despite his frown, Jared ordered Yvonne's preferred dishes first before selecting the house specialties—the wine-paired steak, foie gras, and caviar. Fine dining was one area where he never compromised.
When Jared's phone rang, he excused himself to take the call outside.
Soon, the server brought Yvonne's cake, and she immediately dug in with childish enthusiasm. "Mom," she said between bites, "my leg still hurts. Can I stay home a few more days?"
I knew she just wanted to skip school and lounge around. Watching her hopeful expression, I took a slow sip of wine and said flatly, "Take it up with your father. It's fine by me either way."
"Really? Mom, you're so much nicer now. I love you!" Yvonne immediately curled into my side, all warm affection.
I smiled wryly. It figured—the parent who disciplined became the villain, but once they loosened the reins, love suddenly returned.
Jared returned from his call and settled beside me, his phone face-up on the table.
When a text lit up the screen, my peripheral vision caught the sender—Tracy, probably. Jared barely glanced at it and left it unanswered.
Yvonne worked her way through fried chicken, ice cream, and finally a whole chocolate bar, radiating contentment.
When the steaks arrived, Jared cut Yvonne's portion into pieces, but she pushed her plate away, too full. With a sigh, he turned and noticed me still sipping my wine. "Would you like me to cut yours?" he offered.
"I'm fine." I understood this was simply his upbringing showing—the reflexive good manners of a man trained from birth in proper etiquette, not actual care.
We ate without conversation, the only sound being Jared's phone buzzing with another message from Tracy—which he continued to ignore.
We maintained the ritual of family dinners, though ours contained none of the warmth those words suggested.
When dinner ended, Jared stood abruptly. "I have things to handle. Take Yvonne home."
We both knew where he was going. I answered with a single "Fine," scooped up Yvonne, and retreated to the car.
"Dad, where are you going? Can I come?" Yvonne asked, her tone suddenly brightening as if she'd guessed who he was meeting. "Please? There's nothing to do at home."
He wouldn't bring her, of course. His evening with Tracy required privacy.
"Another time," Jared declined. "This is grown-up business."
Yvonne slumped against me with a disappointed sigh.
I urged the driver to leave immediately, yet an indescribable sorrow welled up inside me.
My husband didn't even bother hiding his affair. What did that make me, the actual wife? Everyone claimed the first marriage mattered most, while the others were just temporary. But becoming less than the other woman? That was the cruelest joke of all.
When we got home, Yvonne begged me for a bedtime story. I picked up a book and read until she drifted off to sleep. After tucking her in, I headed back to the master bedroom.
As expected, Jared never came home that night. But I slept just fine—before closing my eyes, I let myself think about Nathan for a while. He really was handsome.
The next morning, Jared called to ask if I'd taken Yvonne to school. After all, her leg injury was almost healed by now.
When I said she still didn't feel like going and wanted more time off, he just told me to humor her.
I remembered how, in my previous life, I'd already mapped out Yvonne's entire schedule—piano on Mondays and Wednesdays, dance and violin on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and all-day tutoring on Fridays to prep her for elementary school, complete with Englysian speaking drills.
Day after day, I dragged little Yvonne to tutoring sessions, never missing a single one.
Back then, Yvonne's eyes burned with resentment whenever she looked at me. My relentless demands must have driven her straight to Tracy.
I pushed her to study until she collapsed from exhaustion, while Tracy spoiled her with outings, toys, and pretty dresses. For her birthday, Tracy even secretly took her to Jalasburg for three whole days.
Now I wondered why I'd put us through all that. Raising our daughter was never just my job. Since Jared couldn't be troubled to contribute, I saw no reason to keep forcing the issue.
I resolved to let her grow naturally and find happiness—the very things she had always longed for.
I was already at my desk when Tracy strolled in around ten, looking thoroughly satisfied. As we passed in the hallway, my eyes instinctively searched for any marks Jared might have left on her, but her pristine collar revealed nothing.
Jared didn't come in until noon. The moment he entered my office, I recognized Tracy's signature rose scent on him.