Page 164 of Push

“Mar…” I urged softly. “Don’t.”

Sarah’s eyes narrowed on me. “Shouldn’t you be in my son’s home looking after my grandson? Although… You…here.” She scoffed a laugh. “I shouldn’t expect any less of you, but somehow, you always manage to lower the bar.”

Through gritted teeth, Marnie warned, “Gwen.” She wanted me to fire up and stand up for myself.

And I wanted to, but when I tried to speak, no words came out. My mouth was dry, and my heart stuck in my throat. Sarah Sullivan had always intimidated me. She stood there, all elegance, with her high cheekbones, still beautiful and perfectly put together even though she crept closer to sixty. Her hatred for me was what hardened her features. She’d never bothered to hide it. She didn’t now, either.

And I’d put up with it. I’d kept the peace and bit my tongue for Toby’s sake and in the hope Sarah would one day want to be a grandmother to Noah. But her prejudice against me was built into her DNA. She’d never accept me. She was never going to change.

But Toby and I had changed. Toby had stood up to her. He’d told her he wanted nothing to do with her—and he’d meant it. He’d chosen me.

A flicker of confidence ignited in my chest. I took a deep breath. Marnie’s whispered, “I got you,” was the final push I needed.

I looked Sarah dead in the eye. “Don’t speak to me like that,” I managed to choke out. “Don’t speak to me like that ever again.”

She hid her surprise behind a simpering smile. “You’re lucky I waste my breath on you at all. After everything you’ve done—”

“I’ve done nothing except love your son since I was sixteen.”

“Love?”She laughed. “You wouldn’t know the meaning of the word. You trapped my son. You sunk your claws into him when he was too young to know better.” Her next smile was even less sincere than the one before it. “Right from the start, I saw you for exactly what you were. You’re like your mother—nothing but an opportunistic little whore with no goal other than stealing the clothing off our backs.”

I stopped Marnie from launching out of her seat by dropping a hand on her leg. Anger crackled. I could feel her seething. She wanted to unleash, but I needed to handle this on my own.

“I won’t let you talk to me like that anymore.” My voice was strong. I had this.

“The truth hurts.”

“That isn’t the truth, and you know it.”

“You orchestrated quite the plan to get what you wanted, didn’t you? How did you manage it?” Sarah sneered. “And as if the humiliation you subjected my husband to wasn’t enough, you abandoned my son and posted your private life all over the internet to turn us all into a laughingstock.”

What the hell was she talking about? “I postedoneyard sale ad—”

“I’ve worked my entire life to protect my family’s good name, and you dragged it through the mud, never once thinking about anyone but yourself.”

“That isn’t true—”

“Marriage is about sacrifice. Hard work.” Sarah almost spat the words at me. “Toby deserves a wife who is his equal, not some pathetically broken woman for him to fix up like one of those old bloody cars he used to waste his time on.”

I blinked away the tears blurring my eyes. That hurt. Not because Sarah had come at me—I was used to that—but to hear her belittle Toby again. The few spots of joy in his life in the last few weeks had been spent with John Rawles in his garage. Where would Toby be now if he’d been free to follow his dreams?

I hiked up my chin. “Toby deserves a wife who loves him unconditionally.”

“Well, that’s one thing we agree on.”

“He deserves someone who champions him no matter what.” I glared at her. “Not a trophy wife who turns a blind eye to the terrible choices he makes when he’s miserable living up to his parents’ expectations.” And in case she missed exactly where I was aiming my torpedo, I added, “Likeyourmarriage.”

“Howdareyou? You know nothing—”

“I know enough,” I retorted. “And despite all your family connections, fancy clothes, and good breeding, I know Theodore wasn’t faithful to you. Maybe you could accept second best, but I won’t.”

“I was never second best.”

“Eighth best? Twentieth best? How many mistresses did your husband have exactly?”

Sarah’s head tipped back, and she laughed. “Attempting to play with the big girls, are you? Try your tactics, but I’ve fought women far smarter than you. There’s nowhere you can hit me that hurts. And you scoff like duty’s nothing, but it’s everything. I understood the sacrifice needed to hold my family together. And who was left standing at the very end? Who got the money? Not that tramp, Abigail.”

“Wait, are you talking about Ian’s—”