<b>Chapter </b><b>28 </b>
<b>I </b>avoided mother<b>–</b><b>daughter </b>bonding whenever possible. But when forced, I endured it.
<b>Jared </b>drove us himself while <b>his </b>driver collected Yvonne.
My memories from before were fading, and this <b>life </b>wasn’t following the same script. I had no idea what would happen next -but whatever it <b>was</b>, I refused to be walked over again.
Jared had chosen an upscale Fnsia 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’rete,” 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.”
“<b>I </b>want chocte, ice cream, and all the greasy fried food,” Yvonne demanded, proving once again that forbidden <b>treats </b>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<b>.</b><b>” </b>
“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<b>, </b>Jared ordered Yvonne’s preferred dishes first before selecting the house specialties–the wine–paired <b>steak</b>, foie <b>gras</b>, and caviar. Fine dining was one area where he neverpromised.
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. <b>bites</b>, “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 tly, “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 viin, but once they loosened the reins, love suddenly
returned.
Jared returned from his <b>call </b>and settled beside me, his phone <b>face</b><b>–</b>up on the table.
When a text lit up the <b>screen</b>, my peripheral <b>vision </b>caught <b>the </b>sender–Tracy<b>, </b>probably. Jared barely nced at it and left it unanswered.
Yvonne worked her way through fried chicken, ice cream<b>, </b>and finally a whole chocte bar, radiating contentment.