Chapter 3: Bruises in All the Right Places
Anna’s POV
I was still in bed when Rachel’s voice sliced through the quiet. "Ms. Shaw, your mother requests your immediate presence at home." She paused, her voice carefully neutral. "Mr. Simpson is there."
Just like that, my good mood evaporated.
"Jack?" I sat up, irritation creeping into my voice. "Let me guess—he’s there to dump his mess on my doorstep?"
"Should I arrange the car?"
"Yes. And Rachel?" I swung my legs over the side of the bed. "Clear my afternoon schedule. I have a feeling this won’t be quick."
It infuriated me. When Jack and I were married, he barely visited my mother. Now that we were divorced, he suddenly felt entitled to show up uninvited likely for the sake of his lover, not my family.
The drive to my family estate gave me just enough time to compose myself. No matter what Jack wanted, I was no longer his cleanup crew.
My mother was already waiting in the foyer when I arrived, her expression a familiar blend of worry and fragile hope.
My mother and grandmother both relieved to see me were the backbone of this house, though neither would admit it. With no men left in our family since my grandfather passed shortly after I was born, and my father’s death in a car accident when I was eighteen, I had become the one they leaned on. Jack had always known that. He saw my control, mistook my softness around them for weakness. That’s why he dared to come here. He thought I’d give in.