Chapter 17

-Alison-

My phone interrupted my concentration as I typed away at my computer in the office. Glancing at the screen, I saw it was my mother calling. Anticipating a lecture for not bidding farewell to her and my father before leaving, I decided to let it ring. It persisted, ringing again and again, but I remained steadfast in my decision not to answer. Then, a notification pinged, indicating a text from Warren.

His message was direct and short: Answer your mother.

It was evident she had sought his help when I refused to engage with her. Warren and I had barely communicated all weekend following his drunken episode. Although he claimed no recollection of his actions, I refused to be swayed by his attempts to manipulate me. Eventually, he relented, leaving me to my own devices without attempting to share a bed. I understood if he preferred not to involve himself in the situation with my mother, but I remained resolute in my decision not to respond.

Returning my focus to work, I was interrupted by a knock on the glass door. It was Maddy. I waved her in, and she peeked her head inside.

"Sorry to disturb you," she began.

"It's fine," I reassured her, offering a small smile which she returned.

"Your mother is calling," she informed me.

"She called you?" I asked, surprised by the news.

"Yes. Is everything all right? Should I inform her you're occupied?"

Sighing, I rolled my head in an attempt to alleviate some of the tension, though I knew it was futile.

"No, it's fine," I replied, turning my attention to Maddy. "I'll speak to her."

Maddy nodded, and I picked up my phone, dialing my mother's number. As soon as she answered, she launched into her familiar refrain.

"I call and call, yet no answer,"she began.

"I'm at work. What do you expect me to do?" I retorted, frustration creeping into my tone.

"Answer! But I suppose that's too much to ask, just like saying goodbye."

I groaned loudly, uninterested in being scolded like a child while actively engaged in my work—a job I had tirelessly worked for.

"Mom, was there something you wanted?" I asked, trying to mask my irritation.

"You think anyone at the party believes you and Warren have resolved your issues?"she immediately questioned, her tone dripping with anger.

"We haven't resolved anything," I informed her bluntly.

"Oh, you don't say!"she retorted, her sarcasm evident.

"Mom, I didn't ask him to get drunk with his friends," I defended myself.

"That's where you step in!"she insisted.

"And do what? Slap the drink out of his hand?" I shot back.

"Act like a supportive wife."

"Yeah? Like Dad supports your drinking?" I mocked, unable to resist the opportunity to jab at her hypocrisy.

My mother let out an obvious fake gasp, feigning hurt feelings—a tactic I was all too familiar with, knowing those feelings were non-existent.

"And this is the thanks I get,"she began, attempting to guilt-trip me. "I've done nothing but try to secure you a good life, and this is how you repay me?"

"Can we get to the point? Why are you calling?" I interjected, not willing to indulge in her melodrama.

"I'm trying to help here, Alison. The least you could do is show some gratitude,"she scolded.

"Fine," I acquiesced, bracing myself for what was to come.

"Dinner. Next week."

"Why?"

"Because you and Warren have a lot of things to fix. Especially you and your newfound attitude,"she admonished.

"I'm not so sure it's newfound," I muttered under my breath, feeling a surge of defiance.

"Oh, I know,"she taunted, her mocking tone grating on my nerves.

"Why aren't you having this conversation with Warren?"

"I'm not his wife,"my mother retorted.

"No, and he clearly doesn't listen to me either. If he did, he wouldn't be spending his evenings focused on everything but me," I reminded her pointedly.

"Alison, I've equipped you with all the tools to secure a perfect life for yourself. Could you take some responsibility?"

"Responsibility?" I echoed incredulously. "I've done nothing but try to salvage our marriage. It's not my fault that Warren's ego is so fragile he can't handle it when things don't go his way!"

"Alison, you better be at this dinner, or you'll make it painfully obvious how troubled your marriage truly is,"my mother warned.

"Good! Maybe then you'll finally acknowledge it too!" I snapped.

"Alison!"

"I'm hanging up," I declared firmly.

"Alison Brown, if you're not here next Friday, expect a visit,"my mother threatened.

"A visit?" I queried, a shiver running down my spine.

"From me,"she clarified.

Those words filled me with a sense of dread. There was nothing that made my blood run colder than the prospect of a visit from my mother. It wasn't just about enduring her criticisms aimed at me or anything in the house—it was about enduring her criticisms aimed at everything. Her presence would be suffocating, dissecting every detail, from the people in my life to the décor of my home. I couldn't bear it.

If cutting her off were as simple as it sounded, I would have done it long ago. Unfortunately, with a person like her, it was never that straightforward. Besides, I had relied on her for so long, first to finance my education, and later to maintain the family's fa?ade. But did I still want to uphold that image? I knew I had to, which was why I felt trapped.

"I... will be there," I vowed, clenching my left hand into a fist to prevent myself from crushing my phone. While I may not be She-Hulk, in that moment, I was dangerously close to a transformation.

"And Warren,"my mother added.

"And... Warren," I reluctantly agreed, feeling the weight of obligation pressing down on me.

"How wonderful. Your dad will be so pleased,"she remarked with obvious satisfaction.

"Right," I replied through gritted teeth, before my mother bid me luck with work. I set my phone aside on the table, then leaned forward, burying my face in my hands. A deep, guttural groan escaped me, carrying with it a mixture of frustration, anger, and fear of entrapment. Would I ever experience what it was like not to have strings attached to every limb? My conclusion was bleak—I most likely wouldn't. But I resolved to make the best of the situation.

However, as I attempted to gather myself, the door swung open, and footsteps approached.

"I'm fine, Maddy. No need to check on me. It was just a call from my mother," I assured her, not looking up.

"Then I'm certain everything isn't fine," a familiar voice interjected, causing me to lift my head swiftly. Jared had taken a seat in front of me, his presence unexpected.

I blinked rapidly, the door falling shut and echoing with a little click. "What the hell are you doing here?" I asked.

He smirked, reclining in the chair, his attire all black, exuding an air of déjà vu. "Your agency really should conduct background checks on people before inviting them for auditions," he quipped.

"You're too old," I snapped, his laughter filling the room.

"I love it when you talk dirty."

"You want to hear real dirty talk?" I challenged, meeting his gaze head-on.

"Lay it on me."

"You're the most despicable person on this planet, and you would never be accepted into my agency with all those scars on your body," I retorted.

"I thought you liked my scars. You made so many of them," he countered, prompting an eye roll from me. I felt tired of our banter.

"Why are you here?" I asked, cutting through the fa?ade, causing Jared to adopt a slightly more serious demeanor, sitting up straighter.

"Well, I did promise I would see you soon, didn't I?" he responded.

"Yes, but I thought more than a few days would pass. I've just been invited to dinner. Can your torment wait until Friday?"

He shook his head, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"Of course it can't," I murmured, before I adopted a serious expression, closing my laptop and folding my hands on my desk, giving Jared my full attention. He seemed taken aback by my sudden shift in demeanor, but also intrigued.

"What can I do for you?" I inquired, masking my vulnerability with a veil of professionalism. This was my domain, and I had no intention of repeating the embarrassing incident of being on my knees in front of him for all to see. Maddy and I had been working better together, and her occasional check-ins could cause me trouble if I chose to give in to temptation.

"I've had a stressful weekend," he explained.

"Oh? Then I suggest a therapist," I suggested, maintaining my composure.

"I suggest the relaxation of a good orgasm," he countered with a smirk.

"I don't think that's necessarily the direction a therapist would go," I replied, unable to suppress a smirk of my own.

"Depending on the therapist."

Despite my efforts to remain stoic, I couldn't help but smile. Jared and I had never engaged in such wordplay when we were younger. He had changed, becoming more willing to challenge me. Now that our contract was over and I was beginning to accept that I would never be rid of him, I found myself almost enjoying our banter.

"Jared, I'm working," I reminded him, though the edge in my tone had softened.

"Take a break," he urged.

"No, I can't."

"You're the boss. You can," he countered.

"I'm the boss because I work all the time," I reminded him, opening my laptop. However, Jared leaned forward abruptly, slamming it shut, narrowly avoiding trapping my fingers in the process. He rose slowly, looming over me with a dark smile, his imposing figure casting an ominous shadow.

"Why here?" I whispered.

"Because I decide when and where," he asserted.

"Can't you choose a different location?"

"No."

"Fine. Why was your weekend stressful? I thought my torment and your sudden reappearance in my life would have left you thrilled," I snapped.

"It was enjoyable, for about an hour. Then things took a turn for the worse, and now I'm left with the most awful taste in my mouth," he confessed.

"What, do I linger that long?" I taunted, a smirk playing at my lips as I made a suggestive reference to our past encounter.

"No, but I have a needy wife who becomes even more demanding with each passing day," he groaned, clearly annoyed. He pulled away, then moved around the desk to my side, turning my chair so that the door was out of sight and we were shielded from view.

"Wait, are you saying you spent the weekend just sleeping with Astrid and catering to her needs?" I inquired incredulously.

"No to the last part, yes to the first. But each encounter leaves me wanting to crawl out of my own skin, shedding it like a snake," he confessed, his tone tinged with frustration.

I wasn't surprised by his candor. We had both experienced his reaction to Astrid's manipulation before, and it was no wonder he was left with a bitter taste in his mouth.

I shifted slightly in my chair, failing to see the relevance of Jared's visit. Crossing my legs, I drew his gaze to my bare flesh, the slit in my skirt revealing even more when crossed, but I remained focused on the conversation.

"Okay, I can understand your frustration and disgust with having to sleep with her so often, but are you being tied down?" I inquired.

"No," he replied.

"Are you being drugged?"

"No, but I'm starting to consider it might be a good option after all," he admitted bitterly. "At least then I wouldn't have to be present for it."

"I doubt it's your mind she wants to drug," I pointed out, glancing at his cock and making him sigh in a defeated manner. Astrid relished torturing him as much as he enjoyed tormenting me.

"Listen, I can't say I don't feel a little bad about what you're going through—"

"I'm not looking for your sympathy," he cut in.

"Well, what are you looking for? Because honestly, I don't see the connection here. Why not talk to someone else about this? Like your crazy friend Vince?" I suggested.

"Crazy?" he echoed, clearly taken aback. I hadn't divulged the incident between me and Vince to Jared. It was irrelevant now.

"Why are you here?" I pressed, turning away from his question.

"Because I'm not interested in talking. Remember? My pain is now your pain," he reminded me.

"I see. So you're doing to me what I did to you. Your problems now becoming mine as well."

"Exactly. I thought I made that obvious. If I'm going to be tormented by my wife, then I'm bringing that torment to you," he confessed.

"You don't see how absolutely insane that is?"

"I never said it wasn't. I just stated how this was going to go."

"You're not going to punish me in my office. Maddy could come in at any moment," I warned.

"So that's the little cute assistant's name," he remarked, looking away thoughtfully. I reached up, turning his head to face me, catching him off guard.

"Hey, leave that girl alone!" I snapped.

"Why? Jealous?" he teased.

"No, but she doesn't need to be dragged into your messed-up affairs like I am. Leave. Her. Alone."

"Then if you want me to leave her be, you better give me a reason to," he challenged.

"Must we do this here?" I groaned.

"Yes," he insisted.