The Housewife's Return To Her Alluring Prime - Chapter 9: Chapter 9

Yvonne froze. It was the first time she'd ever seen Jared and me fight. Before, whenever we argued, I always gave in first to keep the peace. But today was different. I didn't apologize or back down.
"Daddy, Mommy, please stop." Yvonne burst into tears. She clung to Jared's arm, wiping her eyes. "I don't want you to fight. Please don't do this."
Jared looked at me, his voice cold. "Work isn't negotiable. You can keep your little hobbies, but you're not walking away from our family."
He bent down, lifted Yvonne into his arms, grabbed her tiny backpack, and walked out.
I didn't shed a single tear. To be honest, I wasn't even mad. I had seen this coming.
"Mrs. Holcomb, are you okay?" Wendy and Joyce asked, voices worried.
I smiled, "I'm fine. Sorry about the mess—can you clean it up?" Then I grabbed my purse and car keys and left.
I drove around aimlessly, the wind whipping through the open window, lifting my scarf. Behind my sunglasses, my eyes started to burn.
I married a rich guy and lived this shiny. To everyone else, I should've been carefree and happy. And maybe I was, once. But I'd got stuck in my head, slowly falling apart.
I thought after that fight, Jared wouldn't ask me to lunch. But around eleven, while I was sitting in a café, sipping bitter coffee, he texted to ask where I was.
I snapped a quick pic and sent it to him. He told me to meet him at a restaurant downstairs from his office at noon.
I headed to the restroom and touched up my makeup. If Jared wanted to treat me like his arm candy, fine, I'd play the game.
When I showed up, the noisy crowd went quiet. The guys couldn't even look me in the eyes. They got all polite, keeping their voices low. Some mumbled "hi," and I smiled back. Others tossed out compliments, and I gave a nod of thanks.
I made my way to Jared, who stood there in a crisp suit, over six feet tall, looking sharp. I was killing it—absolutely stunning. We must've looked perfect together.
Then I saw Tracy, sitting right beside Jared. She had on a gray blazer, shoulder-length hair, looking smart and put-together.
She acted casual, but her watch was a quarter-million-dollar piece, her necklace worth tens of thousands. She was subtly flexing her wealth.
Tracy glanced up at me but didn't say a thing.
Jared motioned for me to sit. Then everyone started chatting, digging into their food. Halfway through the meal, some guy came over to toast Jared.
Jared was clearly feeling himself today—his picture-perfect wife on one side, his sharp mistress on the other. The other guys couldn't help but stare with pure jealousy.
I did him a favor, acting like I had no clue who Tracy really was. I smiled, worked the room, and kept up appearances. Guys were checking me out with those hungry looks, but I played dumb and ignored them.
Jared had drunk quite a lot, a faint flush coloring his handsome face.
When a guy tried to toast, Tracy stepped in. "Mr. Holcomb can't drink more," she said. "He's got a meeting this afternoon."
The guy quickly smoothed things over with some glib remarks and dropped the idea of toasting.
Obviously, Tracy had clout at the company, and everyone treated her with respect.
I could tell it was a silent provocation aimed at me. But I acted like I didn't catch it. Why bother? I was already done with this marriage. If she wanted that jerk Jared, she could have him.
Tracy seemed off today, her face blank the whole time.
Finally, lunch wrapped up, and I got ready to go.
Jared was clearly drunk, unable to stand steady. Suddenly, he leaned into me, his hands reaching out to wrap around me in a hug.
I saw Tracy raise her hand to help him up, but her arm froze midway.
Back in the day, I would have killed for Jared's touch. Now, his embrace felt empty, and I even wanted to shove him away.
But with all the executives watching, I didn't want to embarrass him. I gently nudged him off and signaled a male assistant to help him steady.
Jared gave me a deep, intense look, his eyes burning red. "Where are you heading this afternoon?" he asked.
"I've got class," I replied. "Send someone else to pick up Yvonne."
Jared frowned, as if my not picking up the kid was some huge crime. "Yvonne wants you to get her," he said, clearly displeased.
"I really don't have time," I said, shaking my head. "Why don't you find someone she likes to pick her up? I think Tracy would be perfect."
Tracy stood nearby, her face tense and her lips pressed tightly together.
Jared glanced back at her and asked almost deliberately, "Tracy, you free?"
Tracy jumped to answer. "Yeah. I'll pick up Yvonne and take her to dinner afterward."
"Thanks," Jared said. Without sparing me another glance, he strode away.
I spun on my heel and left. Since I hadn't had a single drink at dinner, I got in the car and drove. In the afternoon, I met my violin coach and locked in the next batch of lessons.
That night, when I got home, Jared still wasn't there. I fired up my computer and started working through the Englysian tutor's lessons.
The next afternoon, Yvonne had a horseback riding lesson that required a parent to be there. Right after I canceled, Jared called and asked, "Why'd you cancel Yvonne's riding lesson?"
I kept my voice steady. "I have a class this afternoon too. No time to go."
"Victoria, this has gone way too far. What the hell is your problem?" Jared finally snapped—Yvonne was his absolute bottom line.
I knew he'd blow up, so I kept my cool. "I'll hire another servant tomorrow. She can take Yvonne to her lessons, drop her off at school, pick her up—won't interfere with her grades one bit."
Jared raised his voice. "You're Yvonne's mother."
"Blood doesn't always make the best family," I said, speaking from hard experience.
In my previous life, I had doted on Yvonne, pouring my entire heart into her, but she only had eyes for Tracy.
When Tracy had that little surgery, Yvonne ran to sit by her bed, fawning over her. And when I was on my deathbed, she felt sorry for Tracy instead.
What was the point of raising a kid like that? To tear my heart to pieces?
"Are you doing this to get back at me?" Jared's voice turned frigid.
I stayed quiet.
"So if I don't let you work, you'll keep giving Yvonne the cold shoulder? Victoria, do you know how to be a mother? You're ignoring your daughter to focus only on yourself," Jared shouted. He'd guessed my game, and it made him seethe.
I couldn't care less how angry he got. Right now, I was only focused on my happiness.
"Fine." He suddenly backed down. "Your college major was hotel management, right? Take over the company's two hotels, and you'll get half the profits. But if they tank, you come home, take care of Yvonne, and drop this whole thing for good."
My little protest actually worked? I perked up, suddenly willing to talk. "Then I'll head to Yvonne's riding lesson this afternoon."
"Victoria, being too clever isn't always a good thing. Using Yvonne as leverage against me isn't smart," Jared said coldly before hanging up.
I kept my tone calm. "Got it, honey. Thanks for the lesson. With a husband this generous, I'd better step up my game. I'll study hard."
"Victoria!" Jared's voice rose with rage.
"Gotta go, or I'll be late for the lesson. Bye." I hung up, giving him no chance to respond.
Then I drove to the riding school and found a red-eyed Yvonne. She sat with a pouty expression, while a teacher stayed by her side. Other kids were happily riding their horses.
"Yvonne, I'm here," I called, walking over.
Yvonne shot me a look like I was the last person on earth she wanted to see. "I don't want you here. I want Daddy!"
I crouched down to meet her eyes. "Oh yeah? Did he say he was coming?"
The teacher jumped in quickly. "Mrs. Holcomb, Mr. Holcomb said he was tied up, but you'd be here. Yvonne's still pretty upset. Maybe you could comfort her?"
"Comfort her?" I plopped down next to Yvonne. "She's too big for that."
Yvonne's glare got even sharper, like I was some evil stepmother.
The teacher let out an awkward laugh. "Yvonne, talk to your mom first. I'll come back to get you for riding in a bit."
Yvonne's eyes blazed. Her little fists were clenched so tight that I thought if she were older, she might have swung.
I lifted my hand slightly.
Instantly, her fists unclenched. With a wail, she threw herself into my lap, sobbing. "Mommy, how could you ignore me? Why were you late?"
With calculated precision, I patted her shoulder. "Quit crying. Let's go ride."
Yvonne wiped her tears and followed the teacher off to class.
I took a seat near a group of wealthy wives. A few of them had fancier backgrounds than me, but most didn't. There were even some politicians' wives, holding court.
Those women—married to money—had a natural air of pride. A few were busy schmoozing and sucking up, but most kept to themselves, pretty reserved.
"Mrs. Holcomb, we're doing a baking class tonight. Wanna bring your little one?" a woman asked.
I smiled, "I'm swamped."
"My husband knows Mr. Holcomb. You should bring him over," she pushed.
I shook my head. "Really, no time."
That night, I saw the "baking" photos that woman posted on her Twitter. In one, a group of guys sat on a couch drinking coffee, and Jared was among them. In another, Yvonne was focused on making a cake layer, with Tracy sitting right next to her.