Page 97 of Barging In
“I could have my team continue what they are doing now,” he offered.
“No,” she replied quickly, keen to cut all ties with this man. “I’m sure I’ll work it out.”
He shrugged again and stared into the distance. “Hannah will want us to get married now.”
“Oh,” Victoria replied, unsure what the right response was. “I hope that works out for you.”
“I won’t be marrying anyone,” he said, taking a long sip from his glass. “I thought you’d take me for everything I had… and I know for certain Hannah would. I won’t give her the chance.”
Victoria wasn’t sure how to feel about it all. A small part of her almost felt sorry for Hannah, but the feeling faded swiftly.
If anything, she felt numb. Beneath that, she felt proud of herself for standing up for what she wanted instead of enduring a life she didn’t.
“I’ll go to a hotel,” she said, placing her untouched glass of whisky on the table.
He spread his arms, dumbfounded. “What’s wrong with the spare room?”
“I need some space.” It was the truth. She needed to breathe, away from him. She wanted to be alone with her emotions, whatever they might be. She was still numb. “I’ll grab my bag and come back for the rest of my things tomorrow.”
He nodded, his face unreadable — sullen or possibly just drunk. Who knew? Who cared?
She walked with purpose to the spare room, where she’d left her overnight bag. When she returned, it was to find him slumped in the corner of the sofa, eyes closed, whisky glass clutched in one hand. Approaching him quietly, she took the glass from his fingers and placed it gently on the table.
Suddenly, his hand shot out and grabbed her leg, making her flinch. He released her quickly, his arm dropping to his side.
“I’m sorry, Vic,” he mumbled, eyes half lidded.
“Me too,” she replied, though she wasn’t sure if she meant it or was saying it to placate him. She paused, then added, “And Drew, I want the wharf. So make it happen. Or I’m coming for everything.”
She levelled him with a fierce stare, then walked to the lift, slipping on her shoes, feeling like she was channelling Clem. If he didn’t follow through, she was ready to fight.
As the doors closed behind her and the lightness in her body told her she was descending, she laughed. It was an uncontrollable laugh that made tears stream down her face. She was free. Free and finally in control. And for once, the downward journey didn’t bother her.
Crossing the large, glass aviary and heading into the revolving door on to the street, the lightness stayed with her. The weight she’d been carrying for years had fallen away. She’d spent so long dreading this moment, only to discover it was over and done with in half an hour. Tiredness mixed with drunkenness likely helped; Drew never had much fight in him when he was like that.
If only she’d trusted herself to advocate for her ownneeds sooner or realised that Drew’s fear likely ran deeper than hers ever could. She placed no value on his business. It was only money to her; she had no interest in it. To Drew, it was everything, and he didn’t want her taking it.
Warm tears began filling her eyes again as the revolving door ejected her into the cool air, but no laughter came with it this time. She felt angry at herself for not asking for a divorce sooner, but fear had gripped her, too, and it was hard to escape when it dressed itself as reason.
Victoria pulled herself upright and wiped the tears away. That was enough. It wasn’t worth wasting another ounce of energy on the past. It was time to look forward to the future. A future she hoped would include Clem, who had opened her eyes to new possibilities, encouraged her when she’d been too afraid to move, and tried to support her even when it wasn’t easy. Clem challenged her, sowed confidence in her, made her feel desired and deserving of more. She only hoped she was deserving of Clem.
When she woke late the next morning, relief settled over her and wrapped her in a warm hug. Alone in a quiet hotel room, she smiled as the sense of freedom washed over her again. Today was the first day of her next chapter. Still, a thread of sadness lingered for everything that had passed.
She stretched out a slow breakfast in her room, hoping it would give Drew time to get up and leave the penthouse. An hour later, she retraced her steps from the previous night. She punched in her PIN, and the lift took her to the top floor in just enough time for nervousness to settle in and ready her for a confrontation. There was nothing left to discuss, no need to see him again. As far asshe was concerned, any further communication could be done via her solicitor.
She let out a breath of relief when she found the penthouse empty. In the bathroom, she gathered the last of her toiletries from the drawers. A few unfamiliar items sat beside them — no doubt Hannah’s. Victoria briefly wondered how long Drew and Hannah would last, but the thought passed quickly. It no longer mattered to her.
Five minutes later she was calling the lift, bag in hand containing her toiletries, a few items of clothing, and a pair of shoes. She didn’t want anything else; this had never felt like her home. All she wanted was to leave it behind and return to her real home. She welcomed the long drive back to Otterford. It would give her time to think, to picture the life she wanted to build.
CHAPTER 22
Clem closed her book and dropped it heavily onto the small table in front of her with an equally weighted sigh. She’d read the same paragraph four times, and it was time she gave up. It wasn’t Jasper’s fault; his book was brilliant. Her mind simply wasn’t cooperating after a long day. All she wanted was to enjoy the warm, early evening before the sun set and the chill crept in, driving her back inside.
Tomorrow was a day off. Emma had messaged to say the café was closing for a deep clean and wouldn’t need anything. Mondays were quiet anyway, and although no rain was due, and there would be no competition, she knew she needed a break. So, there was no baking tonight, leaving her mind to roam freely. She couldn’t settle it. Baking usually soothed the noise, giving her something to create and shape other than her thoughts.
She picked up her wine glass and drained it, hoping it might dull the ache in her chest at Victoria’s absence. It didn’t. Nor had the glass before. She missed Victoria’ssteady presence. Not knowing when, or even if, she’d see her again was becoming too much to bear.
She could make her a lemon drizzle. It would give her an excuse to see Victoria, and her brain something to do other than play volley with itself. Clem wanted to push her, to reach out, but she knew she shouldn’t. As far as she could tell, Victoria hadn’t been home all weekend. Her office light had been off at the wharf, and the house remained dark. Had she gone to London? Was she with him now?
