NovelBookChapter 131
Jared got sentimental, which was so unlike him that it threwoff balance.
| stared, my usual quick-witted deflections failing me. Of all the things I'd prepared for, him asking if | still cared
wasn't one of them. I'd assumed indifference was our unspoken agreement.
“Seriously? You're overcomplicating things,” | said, forcing a smirk.
A flicker of annoyance crossed his face. “You've been different since you said you were going back to work.”
“Different how? I'm the sperson.” | tilted my head, playing dumb.
“I can’t pinpoint it, but you're not the same.” Jared was a master at keeping people at arm’s length, but he had a
razor-sharp intuition. Apparently, he'd picked up on the fact that I'd stopped loving him.
“You're imagining things. I've just been busy, that’s all.” | threw his old excuse back at him, my voice flat.
He looked even more upset. He pressed his lips into a thin line and said nothing.
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A cold, quiet laugh bubbled inside me. Wasn't he the one who’d declared love irrelevant? Now he wanted to
rewrite the rules? If love was optional, he sure as hell didn’t get to demand it now.
“Victoria, I'm sorry for what | said before.” The car glided smoothly down the boulevard, and after a few blocks,
Jared actually apologized.
“What exactly are you sorry for?” | snapped back reflexively.
“For saying love didn’t matter. For trying to buy... intimacy.” He fell silent again, his eyes fixed on the road as if
his thoughts were scrolling across the windshield.
Finally, he turned, his gaze locking onto mine. “I read something interesting the other day. It said there are only
two things in life you can’t half-ass.”
| stared at him like he’d just sprouted horns. Jared? Giving a TED Talk on emotional priorities? Since when?
He turned toward the passenger window, his voice dropping. “One: find the right career. Two: find the right
person.
“While the sun’s up, you pour everything into your work. But when it sets, you go hand wrap your arms
around the one you love. Purpose and belonging-you need both. One’s your validation. The other's your anchor.”
My eyes went wide, glued to his profile. This was not the Jared | knew. When had he had tto wax
philosophical? Unless... had he also jumped back from 2044?
But no-he hadn't died in my previous life. After my own heart stopped, he was probably busy throwing Tracy the
blowout wedding she'd always wanted. Yvonne would've been in the front row, sobbing happy tears and hugging
Tracy, shouting “Mom!” in front of everyone.
My death had simply cleared the runway for their perfect takeoff. Thinking about it sent an arctic wave through
me-palms, soles, every inch of skin turned to ice.
So whatever mushy epiphany Jared was having about “go hand wrap your arms around the one you love,” it
had to be a glitch in his brain.
He noticed my silence and angled toward me. “What do you think?” His tone carried that old challenge.
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Det my smile curl, slow and
They bloom or rot. Doesn’t matter if it’s spring or hell.”
Jared's brows knitted. “Just spit it out,” he said curtly. He was definitely the bossy type.
I shrugged. “Love me, don’t love me-I let the dice roll. Not overthinking it.”
His pupils flared. Lately, he'd been prodding at me, testing for residual feelings. | felt it. Back in the original
timeline, he'd been one foot out the door. But since I'd started rewriting the script? That foot was creeping back
inside.
Typical man. Wanted the steak and the sizzle and the side of fries.
Tracy was gorgeous, all sparkle and hustle, and she'd spent years sharpening Jared's company into a weapon he
loved to wield. No way he'd toss that multitool aside.
Me? | was the wife on paper. If we hadn't had a kid, I'm sure Jared would've filed a polite, lawyer-smooth
divorce-no guilt included.
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