Jessica sat down across from Lance, her voice flat and devoid of emotion. “I’m back. When will you resolve the situation with Laura’s bar?”
“I keep my promises,” Lance replied. “The bar can reopen today.”
“Good.” Jessica stood up to leave.
Seeing her walk away like an empty shell, a surge of irritation rose in Lance. “Jessica, who are you putting on this pathetic act for? Are you going to walk around like that in front of Amy, making her think you’re some kind of martyr?”
Jessica stopped in her tracks. A cold, quiet laugh escaped her. “You know exactly how and why I came back. Am I supposed to put on a happy face for the man who blackmailed me? Sorry, I can’t do that. If my presence offends you so much, feel free to throw me out again.”
Lance shot up from his chair and stormed over to her. “Are you really that unwilling to be here, Jessica?”
She remained silent.
He grabbed her arm, forcing her to turn and face him. “Who is it?” he demanded, his voice like ice. “Who’s the lover you have out there that makes you willing to abandon your own daughter?”
Jessica wrenched her arm free. “Abandon my daughter?” she repeated, her voice dripping with irony. A bitter smile touched her lips. “Think whatever you want. It’s your mouth.”
She turned and walked out of the study.
Lance stared at her retreating back, his eyes turning red with frustration. This wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted her home, yes, but he wanted the old Jessica back, not this ghost. But getting her back seemed impossible.

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