Chapter Ten

FLORA’S POV

 I had forgotten what it felt like to be free. For two days after I left the hospital, I stayed in bed, weighed down by the ache of losing my baby. That child had been my anchor, giving me the courage to finally stand up to the Kensingtons and ask for a divorce. But what hurt even more than the loss was Jayden blaming me for what happened.

Since we left, he hadn’t stopped calling. At first, I answered a few times, hoping for—well, I don’t know what I was hoping for. Closure? An apology? But instead, Jayden just spewed his usual nonsense, giving me “chances” to come back and promising to “forget everything” if I did. When I didn’t respond, he switched tactics, sending increasingly threatening texts about how I would regret it if I didn’t take him up on his offer.

The audacity was truly something else. How could he not see that he was only making everything worse? It was like he thought this was all just some negotiation and not my entire life falling apart.

Last night, he texted me again, saying he was traveling for business and hoped I would “come to my senses” before he returned. He used the same tired threats, dangling my mother’s hospital bills and my sister’s tuition like some kind of emotional bait. As if. I blocked his number. Should’ve done it sooner, but I wasn’t thinking straight. Heartbreak has a way of clouding your judgment.

And yet, I was angry at myself too—for not leaving that toxic marriage sooner. Maybe if I had, I wouldn’t have lost my child. I knew deep down that my mom and Sasha would’ve supported me no matter what, but I stayed, feeling trapped by the Kensington money that kept our lives afloat. My mother had never been in favor of the marriage anyway. She never liked Lisette, Jayden’s mother, and having worked as their cook once upon a time, she knew the family better than anyone.

But I had been naive. Stupidly in love with the idea of marrying the man of my dreams without giving a second thought to the consequences. My mom had warned me, but I was stubborn, and determined to make it work. Now, I was left to deal with the fallout of the worst decision I had ever made.

A knock on the door shook me from my thoughts. I lifted my head from the pillow, glancing toward the entrance. It was Sasha, looking uncertain as she stepped into the room. My little sister was stunning—tall, blonde, with piercing blue eyes and the kind of effortless beauty that made people stop and stare. She was the beauty of the family, no doubt, and my best friend. We were only two years apart, and honestly, she was a big part of why I stuck around in my marriage for so long. I wanted her to finish school, get that degree, and build a life far away from this mess.

I hadn’t left the bed much since coming back from the hospital. Mom and Sasha had checked on me now and then, but mostly, they gave me space to grieve in peace.

“Hey, sis,” I mumbled, not really in the mood to chat, but knowing I needed to start putting the pieces of my life back together. It was time to move on, find a job, and start fresh.

Sasha walked over and plopped down next to me on the bed, somehow folding her ridiculously long legs under her in a way that looked both awkward and graceful at the same time. She gave me a once-over. “So... are we going for the ‘disheveled chic’ look now? Or are you just pretending your bed is some kind of black hole you’re stuck in?”

I groaned and pulled the pillow over my face. “Not in the mood for jokes, Sash.”

“Okay, okay. No jokes. Just serious stuff,” she said, dramatically clearing her throat before speaking in a mock-official tone. “Flora, your presence has been requested by a visitor downstairs." She cleared her throat, obviously faking it. “The visitor is not a figment of your imagination, and yes, they are indeed real. And no, before you ask, it’s not Jayden. Although if it were, I would gladly open the door just to slap him or push him off the porch.”

That earned a weak chuckle from me. I peeked out from under the pillow. “Okay, so who is it?”

She hesitated, rubbing her hands together like she was prepping for some kind of bad news delivery. “It’s someone... worse. And I’m not sure how you’re going to feel about this.” She paused, raising an eyebrow. “It’s Lisette. As in, Jayden’s mom.”

My stomach flipped as I shot up in bed. “Lisette? What the hell is she doing here?”

“Trust me, I asked myself the same thing when she knocked,” Sasha said, her eyes wide in disbelief. “I even thought about pretending we don’t live here, maybe throwing a potted plant at her and calling it a day. But then I figured I should probably check with you first. You know, just to make sure we don’t cause any property damage.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, even though the anxiety was already creeping in. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Nope,” she said, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis. “And she’s in full ‘I mean business’ mode. Didn’t even flinch when I answered the door wearing penguin pajamas at two in the afternoon. Mom wanted to come get you, but I volunteered.”

I groaned again, this time more out of frustration than anything else. “Great. Just what I need. I don’t have the energy for one of her ‘I told you so’ speeches today,” I muttered, sinking back into the pillows like they could somehow shield me from the impending confrontation.

Sasha shrugged with a teasing grin. “Well, to be fair, she did tell you so.”

I shot her a look.

“Okay, okay, sorry!” She raised her hands in mock surrender, though there was a playful glint in her eyes. “But seriously, if it’s Lisette, I can lock her in the pantry until you’re emotionally stable enough to deal with her. Or, I can tell her we’ve both been kidnapped by a gang of rebellious flamingos. I hear she’s not a fan of chaos... or animals.”

I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped, even with the knot of anxiety tightening in my chest. “Sasha, stop.”

“I mean it,” she said with a grin. “You don’t have to see her. She’s not royalty. We could just pretend you’re taking an eternal nap, change our names, and move to a small town. We could open a bakery—you bake, and I’ll handle the business side of things. We’ll call it something dramatic like ‘Flour Power’ or ‘Sasha’s Secret.’”

I laughed a little harder this time, despite myself. “Okay, okay, you win. I’m officially no longer sulking.”

Sasha nudged me gently, her tone softening. “Look, I know Lisette isn’t exactly your favorite person, but she’s probably here to talk. And you know her—she won’t leave until she’s had her say. So, do you want to face her, or should I accidentally spill coffee on her very expensive shoes?”

The idea was tempting, very tempting, but I sighed. “No coffee. I’ll talk to her. Might as well get it over with—and maybe I can finally tell her to stay out of my life.”

Sasha gave me a quick side hug. “Good choice. I just want to see you happy, sis.”

I smiled, feeling a surge of gratitude for her unwavering support. “You’re ridiculously helpful, you know that?”

She hopped off the bed, giving me a theatrical bow. “I accept my crown. Now, let’s go. And if she gets too snarky—”

“I’ll start talking about reality TV,” I said, grinning as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. “You know Lisette can’t stand anything that isn’t couture or stock portfolios.”

Sasha laughed. “That’s my badass sister.”

Lisette was still standing in the middle of the living room like she was staging some kind of hostile takeover, flanked by two bodyguards—one of whom was holding a sleek briefcase. The whole setup felt ridiculous. Meanwhile, my mom stood across the room, hands on her hips, looking like she was seconds away from tearing Lisette apart with her bare hands.

The moment Sasha and I entered the room, Lisette let out an exaggerated sigh, the kind that was designed to make sure everyone knew how utterly inconvenienced she felt. She gave the room another sweeping glance, her lips curling in disgust like she had just walked into a biohazard zone.

“Thank goodness,” she said, dramatically rubbing her pearl-clad wrist as though it had endured some great hardship. “You finally found the time to come down.”

I met her gaze, unflinching. “What do you want from me, Lisette?” I asked, keeping my voice firm.

For a split second, she just stared at me like I had sprouted a second head. It was as if she couldn’t believe I had the nerve to stand up to her. “I see the little bird has learned how to fly,” she said, her tone dripping with condescension.

“Don’t talk to my child like that,” Mom snapped, stepping forward. Her voice had that dangerous edge to it, the one that told me Lisette was about two seconds away from being tackled.

Lisette’s eyes flicked toward my mom with barely disguised disdain. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t talking to you, Joy. Kindly allow me to address the person I came here for.” She turned back to me, straightening her already impossibly perfect posture. “I’ll get right to the point, Flora. I’ve come to make you a deal. And don’t worry, it’s an offer you won’t regret.”