Jessica met his gaze, her own calm and unyielding. “You and Catherine have a history. She was your sweetheart. Now that she’s back, I’m stepping aside to give you two a chance. I’m willing to leave so you can be together. Isn’t that what you want?”
“I don’t want my daughter growing up in a broken home,” he said coldly.
A wave of exhaustion washed over her. She took a deep breath. “But don’t you see? A toxic, dysfunctional family is far more damaging to a child than a blended one. We can’t stand the sight of each other. We’re always at each other’s throats. Do you really think Amy can grow up happy in an environment like that?”
Lance’s eyes narrowed. “And whose fault is that?”
Jessica fell silent, stunned.
His voice grew even colder. “You’ve never been a proper mother to her. You complain that she’s close to Catherine, but have you ever stopped to think about what her life has been like for the past six months? Back then, all you had to do was apologize, and you could have avoided being separated from her. But you had to be stubborn. Tell me, Jessica, is your pride more important than your own daughter?”
She was speechless. Not because he was right, but because his ability to twist reality was so breathtakingly audacious it left her reeling.
It was Catherine who had sent him nude photos of herself. When Jessica had found out and confronted her, she had slapped Catherine across the face—a slap she didn’t regret for a second. Shouldn’t a woman who tries to seduce another woman’s husband pay a price? But Catherine had made a spectacle of it, threatening to jump off a building, to kill herself.
Everyone had demanded she apologize. Her husband, her father, her four brothers—they all ganged up on her, pressuring her to say she was sorry.



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