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Chapter 22
Prison life had transformed Jenna. The once stunning woman was now gaunt, her designer clothes replaced fry a baggy jumpsuit, her perfect complexion gone sallow.
One slap from Mrs. Phillips sent her crashing to the concrete floor.
But it wasn’t enough. Thinking of her son lying hooked to machines because of this woman, Mrs. Phillips snapped. She lunged forward, grabbed Jenna by her collar, and struck her again and again.
If the guards hadn’t pulled her off, Jenna might have left in a body bag
Even restrained by two officers, Mrs. Phillips couldn’t stop her verbal assault.
“You psychotic bitch! Why weren’t you in that car instead?”
“Why aren’t YOU the one who’ll never wake up?”
As the words hit her, Jenna felt an almost out–of–body sense of irony. When Elijah had worshipped the ground she walked on, Mrs. Phillips had treated her like royalty-“my dear” this and “sweetheart” that.
Now that Elijah hated her, Mrs. Phillips had completely flipped. “Psychotic bitch” was her new term of endearment.
When Mrs. Phillips finally paused for breath, Jenna seized her moment.
“I’m the villain? What about your golden boy?”
“He claimed to love me, but every time Gloria texted, he’d ghost me to run to her!”
“He kept me on a string while never cutting her loose. What kind of man wants it both ways? He always blamed women for his bullshit. The world’s better off without men like that.”
“He earned that crash! He should stay a vegetable forever!”
Her vicious words dissolved into unhinged laughter that morphed into tears.
They had been perfect together once.
If not for Gloria, if not for Elijah’s refusal to make a clean break, would she have done those things? Would she be here now?
It was their fault. All of it!
“What game are you playing, Gloria? Aren’t you obsessed with him? He’s drugged and vulnerable, but instead of taking advantage, you’re calling me to ‘help‘ him?”
The memory made her seethe. She had never been wrong!
Finding an outlet for years of suppressed rage, Jenna launched into a tirade that made even the seasoned guards
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uncomfortable.
Mid–rant, a new thought hit her, twisting her face into something ugly.
“Oh, and one more thing–we’re still legally married, and I’ll never sign divorce papers. He’s mine until one of us dies. Your precious family will never be rid of me!”
“You-” Mrs. Phillips shook with rage, momentarily speechless.
News of the Phillips family drama eventually made its way across the Atlantic to Gloria.
Hearing Elijah’s name after so long caused a brief flicker–something not quite sadness, not quite relief. Since walking away from him and building her London life, their paths had completely diverged. She’d never imagined such an ending for him.
Yet Gloria felt surprisingly unmoved about his condition. They were strangers now. His tragedy, however severe, had nothing to do with her anymore.
The colleague who hesitantly mentioned the news watched Gloria carefully. Her genuine lack of reaction clearly
relieved them.
Some still wondered, though. After all those years, was she truly over him?
Gloria shook her head slightly. After everything that had happened, how could she not be? Besides, her heart was full now with people who actually deserved space there.
Across the courtyard, Lucas approached with their daughter perched on his shoulders. He extended his hand to Gloria. “The little monster is getting hungry. Ready to head home?”
Home.
That word still gave her a flutter of happiness every time.
She looked at father and daughter with quiet joy and took his hand. “Let’s go home.”
From now on, through every season and every day, they were her family–exactly as it should be.
