After being reborn, I make up my mind to stop chasing after my husband and daughter

Chapter 22

Chapter 22

In our six years of marriage, we’d only dined out for family holidays. Most nights we ate at home, though often interrupted by his endless phone calls. I’d cooked elaborate meals that went untouched.

Now that we had private servants preparing perfectly balanced dinners every night, he suddenly wanted to take me out.

I’d endured years of loneliness, disappointment, and the quiet heartbreak of constant rejection. Now it was his turn to taste that bitterness.

“Can’t. My plate’s full. Ask someone else.” I kept my eyes on my work, feigning concentration.

Jared went completely still. The polite smile froze on his face. He’d anticipated delight, not this offhand rejection.

“The work will still be there after dinner,” he said, with uncharacteristic patience.

“I’m not hungry.” I glanced up with a bland smile. “Had dessert earlier.”

Some of the tension left his posture when he realized this was about schedules, not rejection.

“I’ll head back for Yvonne then. Don’t work too late.” With that, he left without another word, and I returned to my files,

Jared said he needed to call a board meeting to decide on the appointment, but I knew it was just a formality.

He ruled the company with absolute authority. His competence left no room for challenges.

Our personal relationship blurred professional lines, but I believed that Jared could silence critics effortlessly.

It was 11 p.m. when I got home, arms full of documents. Jared had already tucked Yvonne in and was lounging on the sofa in his pajamas, sipping coffee.

and crossing his long legs. His piercing eyes

said flatly. I kicked off my shoes and headed upstairs, not in the mood

for a beat before slowly following

bedroom, I grabbed my pajamas and ducked

minutes–and when I finally stepped

moment. But when he finally lay beside me and I reached out, he’d catch my wrist,

mirror looked different now -her eyes

done yet?” Jared called from the bed, impatience creeping into his

he was thinking about sex. Was he going to

accentuated. Men always noticed those things. He might not love me,

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wait. The moment I settled in, he threw his

me under

my body, fingers burning against the curve of my waist before inching

wrist. “Too tired tonight,” I mumbled

been three months,” he said, his voice

something like that,” I muttered, not wanting to

me inside out–my body and my desires. Normally, I’d be crawling out of my skin after three months without it, while he could go either

at all anymore. Jared used

one word of

fingers only tightened around me. Angry as he clearly was, none

suddenly at

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