The Forbidden Throb Chapter 71

Emma's POV:

Victoria waved her hand dismissively.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. You're young and pretty—you'll inevitably encounter situations like this in the workplace. Did he actually cause you any real harm? You just need to endure it, and it will pass."

The room tilted slightly. I gripped the back of the couch, trying to steady myself.

"You really... think I should endure..."

"I think you should grow up," Victoria said flatly. "The world isn't going to coddle you, Emma. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices. Be strategic. Use your assets."

*Assets.* Like I was a piece of property. A commodity to be leveraged.

Robert cleared his throat. "Well, it's not the end of the world. No job means more time to focus on important things. Nicholas can support you—"

I don't need anyone to support me. Even without a job right now, my severance package will sustain me until I find the next one.

"Nicholas and I broke up."

The words fell into the room like a grenade. Victoria's face went white, then red.

"You... what?"

"We broke up. Weeks ago. He cheated on me. " I kept my voice steady, clinical. "So that's not an option."

"*You broke up with Nicholas Prescott?*" Victoria's voice climbed to a pitch I'd rarely heard. "Emma, do you have any idea what you've done? Do you understand what that family represents? The connections, the opportunities, the—"

"Have you ever cared about what I think?" I interrupted, my voice sharp. "Besides these resources, connections, and wealth—have you ever considered my feelings? My happiness?"

I laughed, but it sounded brittle even to my own ears.

She took a step toward me, hands clenched. "Money brings happiness. What else matters?"

"Even though he cheated on me?"

"And you couldn't look past it?" Victoria demanded. "You couldn't be mature enough to understand that men sometimes stray? That's what happens, Emma! "

Something inside me cracked.

"You weren't always like this," I said quietly. The words came slower now, each one carefully extracted. "You used to be different. When Dad was alive, you both loved me. You only cared about whether I was healthy, whether I was happy."

Victoria's face shifted, but I couldn't stop now.

"I remember you telling me—I must have been six or seven—that you just wanted me to have a peaceful, stable life. That was all that mattered to you."

My voice wavered. "But everything changed after you married Robert. After Leo was born. I stopped being important. I became the one who always gets sacrificed—for appearances, for connections, for your new family."

I met her eyes directly, feeling something final settle in my chest.

"You don't love me anymore, Mom. Not really."

For just a moment, something flickered across Victoria's face—something that might have been pain, or regret. "That's not... Emma, that's not true—"

"How long has it been since you celebrated my birthday?" The words came out sharp, almost cruel. "Do you even remember when it is?"

The silence stretched between us. Victoria's mouth opened, then closed.

"I'll remember from now on," she said finally, her voice hardening again. "But you need to listen to me. Make up with Nicholas. I'm doing this for your own good, Emma. Everything I do is for you—"

"No." The word came out flat, final. "I don't trust you anymore. And I don't care what you think."

I turned and walked toward the door, not looking back even as I heard her call my name.

The afternoon sun hit my face as I stepped outside, but I felt no warmth.

I had planned to tell Victoria about Daniel today—about the marriage, about everything. But now, standing here with disappointment settling like lead in my chest, I realized I'd accumulated enough of it to last a lifetime.

I stood on the sidewalk, momentarily directionless, until I felt the weight of the Transformers toy still clutched in my hand—the one Leo had dismissed.

Something clicked into place. I knew exactly where to go.

I'd return this damn toy, take that money, and buy myself a small cake.

At least I could give myself the comfort no one else seemed willing to offer.

---

An hour later, I sat on a bench in the Public Garden, the returned toy exchanged for a small slice of strawberry shortcake from a nearby bakery.

The afternoon sun filtered through the trees, dappling the path with light and shadow. I took a bite, letting the sweetness dissolve on my tongue.

*I really do need to be kinder to myself.*

I pulled out my phone and saw Daniel had already replied:

*Lunch arrived perfectly timed. My colleagues are extremely jealous. Thank you—though tutoring hardly requires payment. *

I stared at the screen, imagining him in the hospital cafeteria or his office, surrounded by other doctors eyeing his Italian takeout. A small smile tugged at my lips despite everything.

*Money well spent on someone who deserves it*, I thought, then typed back:

*Glad you enjoyed it.*

His response came almost immediately:

*How's your day going?*

I glanced down at my half-eaten cake, then at the dappled sunlight on the grass.

*Currently engaged in critical self-care activities: eating cake and catching some sun in the Public Garden. Living my best life.*

The humor felt strange after this morning, but somehow lighter for it.

*You deserve every moment of that sunshine. Are you free this afternoon?*

I paused mid-bite, remembering our conversation about meeting his friend.

*Today?* I typed back.