Chapter 9 Not Looking Back

The Gibson family's butler blinked, hardly disguising his astonishment, when Alexia climbed out of the cherry-red Bugatti. Questions lingered behind his eyes, but he simply gestured for her to follow and guided her into the house with practiced grace.

"Mrs. Gibson, Eleanor's hardly talked about anything but you lately. You made it in time for supper. Why not stay and keep her company?"

Without a flicker of warmth, Alexia answered, "Just call me Alexia. I'm no longer Roger's wife."

For a split second, he faltered, caught off guard by her words.

The city had been buzzing with talk of the split. Eleanor wanted to mediate, but from the way Alexia carried herself, the butler could tell there wasn't much hope.

That villa, so often silent and chilly, seemed unchanged. Alexia stepped inside and spotted Eleanor on the sofa, a welcoming smile lighting up her face. "Alexia, come join me."

Trying her best to appear cheerful, Alexia made her way over. Eleanor's hand found hers, gentle and warm, her tone laced with concern. "You picked a rough time to arrive, sweetheart. Allen just stormed off, determined to haul Roger back here. We've heard all about what's happened lately. I promise, we won't let him carry on like this."

A shadow flickered in Alexia's eyes. "I've already signed the divorce agreement. I'm not looking back anymore."

That response made Eleanor stiffen. "So, this is all because of Marilee, isn't it? I couldn't care less about that mess with her or the whole talk about some 'real daughter.' All I see is you. I won't accept anyone else as Roger's wife. He's still young and easily manipulated by some scheming woman. Let me handle him."

Alexia only shook her head. "No, I've let it go. I know when it's time to walk away. When I love someone, I stay by their side. And when that love fades, I move on. I'm finished waiting for a man to grow up. I'm through making excuses for his choices. Roger picked Marilee, and that's his problem now. I want nothing to do with it. The past is behind me. I'm ready for a new beginning."

There was something in her voice-firm and unwavering-that made Eleanor pause.

Moments stretched out before the rims of Eleanor's eyes turned red. "I've watched you grow up, Alexia. You were like my own granddaughter. Roger had it rough as a kid. When he finally came back, he was wild, hard to handle. No one welcomed him, except for you."

For a moment, Alexia's resolve faded. Deep down, she understood her feelings for Roger were always tangled up in the gratitude she felt for Eleanor. The warmth she received from the old woman had filled the empty places the Jenkins family never cared about. That was why she had a soft spot for Roger, since he was Eleanor's grandson.

Eleanor knew exactly what was going on. She let out a weary breath. "Roger has no idea what he lost. He believed he could stomp all over your feelings just because you loved him."

A sharp voice echoed down from above before Alexia could reply. "Let's stop pretending she's all virtuous. She's not even a real Jenkins. And she's played the role of Mrs. Gibson for two years. Roger's the one who got scammed. Now that he's found someone worth his time, who can blame him for moving on?"

There was Brandon Gibson-Roger's cousin, arrogant and unbothered, shuffling down the stairs in pajamas. He sprawled across from Alexia on the couch, throwing her a sly smirk. "Didn't take long to drop the boring housewife act, huh? You're not fooling anyone."

"That's enough, Brandon!" Eleanor shot back, voice sharp with anger. "Is this really how you talk to people? Take a good look at yourself. You can't even show the decency to put on proper clothes in front of guests. Shame on you!"

Sinking into the cushions, Brandon crossed his legs, an insufferable grin spreading across his face. "Please. She's not worthy of it."

Anger crept up Eleanor's cheeks, and her breath turned shallow. Alexia reached over, her hand a gentle anchor on Eleanor's back. "Don't let him get to you, Eleanor."

Alexia's attention shifted to Brandon, her eyes cold and assessing, as if she were staring at something best ignored.

If she ever doubted it before, she was sure now-the Gibsons were all glitter and no gold. Roger barely stood out as halfway capable. The rest dragged the family name through the mud. Brandon? He was the perfect example of wasted potential.

Before divorcing Roger, she'd spent far too much time picking up after Brandon, mostly for Roger's sake and partly out of stubborn goodwill. In return, she earned nothing but resentment. He was the kind of leech who latched on tighter with every favor.

Catching the chill in her eyes, Brandon bristled. "What's with that face? Don't act like I'm making this up. If it weren't for my cousin's payout, you'd be sleeping on the street tonight."

Eleanor's patience ran out. "Enough! Not another word."

Brandon liked to think of himself as the family's black sheep, too cool to care about lectures. Still, something in her quiet unnerved him far more than Eleanor's yelling ever could.

"Why aren't you saying anything, huh?" he asked.

An uneasy hush settled over the room.

Alexia kept still, her expression impossible to read, until she finally looked at Eleanor and whispered, "I'm sorry."

She rose without another word, collecting her purse.

Seeing her head for the door, Brandon's eyes glimmered with a wicked challenge. He swung his leg into the aisle, barring her way, his grin cocky.

That was his biggest mistake of the day. Alexia barely paused before she brought her gleaming heel down-squarely on his foot. The howl that followed left no doubt about her message.