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NovelLamp > The Abandoned Wife's Second Chance > Rift 80

Rift 80

    (Scarlett’s POV)


    The apartment feels different when Chloe drops us off. Quieter somehow, like the walls are holding their breath after everything that happened tonight.


    I try to shake off the strange feeling that’s been shadowing since we left the university as I tell Chloe at the door, “Thank you,” bouncing Lily on my hip. “For everything.”


    “Always.” She squeezes my shoulder. “Call me if you need anything, okay? And Scarlett? Don’t overthink tonight. Just… let yourself feel whatever you’re feeling.”


    I nod, though I’m not sure what I’m feeling anymore. Relief? Confusion? Hope? It’s all tangled up in my chest like knotted thread.


    After Chloe leaves, I focus on the routine. Dinner first – scrambled eggs and toast because I’m too drained to cook anythingplicated. Lily chatters about the university, about how pretty the stage looked, about seeing Daddy.


    After dinner, I run her a bath. The warm water andvender soap seem to wash away some of the evening’s tension from both of us. By the time I tuck her into bed, she’s yawning and rubbing her eyes.


    “Will you sing to me?” she asks, pulling her nket up to her chin.


    I settle beside her and sing the Arabic luby my mother used to sing to me. The one about the moon watching over sleeping children. My voice cracks on the familiar words, but Lily doesn’t notice. She’s already drifting off, her breathing evening out.


    The shower I take afterward is scalding hot, but it doesn’t wash away the memory of Jasper’s voice on that stage. The way he looked directly at me when he said those words.


    She <i>was </i><i>my </i>first <i>love</i><i>, </i><i>my </i>greatest <i>love</i>, and <i>my </i><i>biggest </i>regret.


    I press my forehead against the tile wall and let the water pour over me until it runs cold.


    By the time I climb into bed, exhaustion should take over. But my mind won’t quiet. Every time I close my eyes, I see Jasper crouched down to Lily’s level. The tears in his eyes when he hugged her. The hope in his voice when he asked if he could spend time with her.


    Sleepes eventually, but it brings no peace,


    I’m walking down a street I don’t recognize, my <i>belly </i>huge and heavy. Everything <i>hurts </i><i>– </i>my <i>back</i><i>, </i><i>my </i><i>feet</i><i>, </i><i>my </i>heart. The buildings around me are tall and unfamiliar, nothing like home.


    < Chapter 80


    <i>“</i><i>You </i><i>don’t </i><i>belong </i><i>here</i><i>,</i>” <i>a </i><i>voice </i><i>says </i><i>behind </i><i>me</i><i>. </i>


    I <i>turn</i><i>, </i><i>but </i><i>no </i><i>one’s </i><i>there</i>. <i>Just </i><i>empty </i><i>sidewalks </i><i>and the </i>smell <i>of </i><i>rain </i><i>in </i>the <i>air</i><i>. </i>


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    <i>The </i><i>pain </i><i>hits </i><i>without </i><i>warning</i>. <i>Sharp</i><i>, </i><i>cramping </i><i>agony </i>that <i>doubles </i><i>me </i><i>over</i>. <i>I </i>reach <i>for </i><i>my </i><i>phone</i><i>, </i><i>but </i>my <i>hands </i><i>are </i><i>shaking </i>too <i>hard </i><i>to </i><i>dial</i>.


    <i>“</i><i>Help</i><i>,</i><i>” </i><i>I </i><i>whisper</i><i>, </i><i>but </i>my <i>voice </i><i>is </i>lost <i>in </i><i>the </i><i>wind</i>.


    <i>Strong </i><i>hands </i>grab my arms<i>, </i><i>pulling </i>me <i>toward </i>a <i>white </i>van. <i>I </i><i>try </i><i>to </i><i>fight</i><i>, </i><i>but </i><i>I’m </i>too <i>weak</i><i>, </i>too


    <i>scared</i><i>. </i>


    <i>“</i><i>Please</i>,” <i>I </i><i>beg</i><i>. </i><i>“</i><i>My </i><i>baby-</i>”


    <i>“</i><i>That’s </i><i>exactly </i><i>why </i><i>we’re </i><i>here</i>.”


    <i>The </i><i>hospital </i><i>smells </i><i>like </i><i>bleach </i><i>and </i><i>fear. </i><i>The </i><i>doctor </i>has <i>kind </i><i>eyes</i><i>, </i><i>but </i><i>her </i><i>hands </i><i>shake </i><i>as </i><i>she </i><i>prepares </i><i>the </i><i>needle</i>. <fn8fff> Follow current nov?ls on Find?Novel</fn8fff>


    <i>“</i><i>I’m </i><i>sorry</i><i>,</i><i>” </i><i>she </i><i>whispers</i>. <i>“</i><i>I’m </i><i>so </i><i>sorry. </i><i>Someone </i><i>paid </i><i>me</i><i>… </i><i>they </i><i>said </i><i>it </i><i>would </i><i>be </i><i>quick</i><i>, </i><i>that </i><i>you </i><i>wouldn’t </i><i>suffer</i><i>.</i><i>” </i>


    <i>“</i><i>No</i><i>!</i><i>” </i><i>I </i><i>try </i><i>to </i><i>sit </i><i>up</i><i>, </i><i>but </i><i>the </i><i>restraints </i><i>hold </i><i>me down</i>. <i>“</i><i>My </i>baby<i>, </i><i>please </i><i>don’t hurt </i><i>my </i><i>baby-</i>”


    <i>“</i><i>It’s </i><i>not </i><i>personal</i><i>,</i><i>” </i><i>she </i><i>says</i><i>, </i><i>and </i><i>the </i><i>needle </i><i>slides </i><i>into </i><i>my arm</i>. <i>Fire </i><i>spreads </i><i>through </i><i>my </i><i>veins</i><i>. </i><i>“</i><i>But </i><i>someone </i><i>wants </i><i>both </i><i>of </i><i>you </i><i>gone</i>.”


    <i>The </i><i>world </i><i>spins</i>. <i>Goes </i><i>dark</i>. <i>In </i><i>the distance</i><i>, </i><i>I </i><i>hear </i><i>crying </i>– a <i>baby’s </i><i>cry. </i>


    <i>My </i><i>baby</i><i>… </i>


    I jolt awake, my heart hammering against my ribs. For a moment, I don’t know where I am. The room is dark, unfamiliar shadows creeping across the walls.


    Then I remember. I’m home. Safe. Lily is sleeping in the next room.


    But my hands are shaking, and there’s cold sweat on my forehead. The dream felt so real.


    Too real.


    I slip out of bed and pad to Lily’s room on bare feet. She’s curled up in her toddler bed, one arm wrapped around her stuffed elephant, breathing deep and steady. Safe.


    I sink into the chair beside her bed, pulling my knees to my chest. It was just a nightmare. Just my mind processing the stress of the evening, of seeing Jasper again, of everything that’s been happening.


    But pieces of it felt like memories. The hospital in Nashville when Lily was born. The


    <Chapter 80


    More Rewards <b>> </b>


    “Just paranoia,” I whisper to myself. “You were scared and alone, and <i>now </i>you’re imagining things.”


    But the unease won’t leave. It sits in my stomach like a stone, heavy and cold.


    I stay in that chair as the hours crawl by. Every time I start to doze, the dreames creeping back. The white van. The needle. The doctor’s shaking hands.


    Someone <i>wants </i>both of you <i>gone</i>.


    By the time sunlight starts filtering through the blinds, I haven’t slept at all. My eyes are gritty and my head pounds, but at least the nightmares can’t follow me into daylight.


    Lily wakes up chattering about pancakes, and I force myself through the morning routine. Coffee first – strong and ck. Then breakfast, though I can barely taste it.


    “Mama, you look tired,” Lily observes, studying my face with the intensity only a child can


    manage.


    “A little,” I admit, smoothing her hair. “But I’m okay.”


    I’m not okay, though. I feel hollowed out, scraped raw. Like someone took sandpaper to my nerves and left them exposed.


    I’m staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, trying to make myself look human, when my phone rings. Dorian’s name shes on the screen.


    For a second, I consider letting it go to voicemail. I don’t have the energy for conversation right now. But something makes me answer.


    “Hello?”


    “Scarlett.” His voice is warm, concerned. “How are you feeling this morning?”


    “Tired,” I say honestly. “It was a long night.”


    “I can imagine. Your speech was incredible, by the way. I know I said it before, but I wanted to tell you again. What you’ve aplished… it’s remarkable.”


    Something in his tone makes my throat tight. There’s no agenda in his voice, no hidden meaning. Just genuine admiration.


    “Thank you,” I whisper.


    :


    < Chapter 80


    “Actually, that’s why I’m calling. I have an idea, and I hope you’ll hear me out.”


    I sink onto the edge of the bathtub. “Okay.”


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    “I’ve been thinking about your story. About everything you went through to build your bakery, to create something beautiful from nothing.” He pauses. “You deserve <i>to </i>reach more people, Scarlett. Your work deserves to be seen and tasted by everyone who needs that kind of hope in their lives.”


    “Dorian-”


    “Let me take you on a tour today. I want to show you the gship location of my stores. There’s a space that would be perfect for you – prime location, beautiful setup. You could reach so many more people.”


    My first instinct is to say no. To keep my bakery small and safe and mine. But there’s something in his voice that stops me.


    “I don’t know if I’m ready for something that big.”


    “You are.” His certainty is unwavering. “You’ve already proven you can do anything. This is just the next step.”


    I think about my dream. About the fear that’s been living in my chest for four years, the constant looking over my shoulder. Maybe it’s time to stop hiding.


    “It would just be a trial run,” he continues. “See how it goes. If it doesn’t feel right, you can always go back to just the neighborhood bakery.”


    “Just a trial run?”


    “Just a trial. No pressure, no long–termmitment. But I have a feeling once people taste your bread, once they see what you’ve created, there’ll be no going back.”


    I close my eyes, thinking of Lily in the next room. Of the future I want to build for her. Of the woman I’ve be – the one who doesn’t run from challenges anymore.


    “Okay,” I say quietly.


    “Okay?”


    “Let’s do it. The trial run.” The words feel strange in my mouth, like speaking a foreignnguage. “When do you want to do the tour?”


    “How about this afternoon? I can pick you up around two?”


    I look at my reflection again. The tired woman staring back at me doesn’t look ready to make


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    business decisions. But maybe that’s exactly when you need to be brave – when you’re scared and exhausted and have nothing left to lose.


    “Two o’clock sounds perfect.”


    Violet Moon


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