Chapter 62 What Was Lost
Tuesday Morning - 9:15 AM
Alexander sat at his laptop in a coffee shop three blocks from Elena's apartment.
He'd already sent out five applications. Three to consulting firms, two to tech companies looking for strategic advisors.
The responses came fast, automatically.
Thank you for your interest in the Senior Strategy Consultant position. After careful review, we've decided to move forward with other candidates.
Thirty minutes after he'd applied.
Automatic rejection.
He opened another job listing. Director of Business Development. Perfect fit for his experience.
He filled out the application. Attached his resume.
Hit submit.
Thank you for your interest. Unfortunately, this position has been filled.
The listing had been posted this morning.
Alexander closed the laptop. Pressed his palms to his eyes.
His phone buzzed.
Elena: HR just called. They want to meet with me today at 2.
He typed back: Want me to come with you?
No. I'll handle it.
Let me know how it goes.
I will.
He ordered another coffee he didn't need. Opened the laptop again.
Two more applications. Both submitted.
Now came the waiting.
Wondering if any of them would even look at his resume before clicking reject.
Wondering if the Thorne name had become a liability instead of an asset.
What the hell he was supposed to do if nobody would hire him.
Victoria's POV
Victoria's apartment was too quiet.
She'd lived here for years. Modern. Minimalist. Everything in shades of gray and white.
It had always felt calm before.
Now it just felt empty.
She stood in her closet, looking at rows of perfectly organized clothes. Work suits in blacks and navys. Silk blouses. Designer heels she'd never wear again.
All of it bought for a life she no longer had.
She pulled out a box from the top shelf. Old photos, cards, things she'd kept but never looked at.
Her hand hesitated on a silver frame at the bottom.
She pulled it out.
The photo was five years old. Maybe six.
Michael stood behind her, arms around her waist. Victoria was laughing at something off-camera. And between them, perched on Victoria's hip—
Lily.
Two years old. Dark curls. Michael's smile. Victoria's eyes.
Looking at the camera like it was the most delightful thing she'd ever seen.
Victoria's chest tightened.
She traced her daughter's face through the glass.
When had she last held her like this? Let Lily sit on her hip, chubby toddler arms around her neck?
The memory surfaced before she could stop it.
Five Years Ago
"Victoria, we need to talk about your schedule."
Michael stood in their kitchen, Lily on his hip. Dinner sat on the table, getting cold.
"I know. I'm sorry. The merger's in the final stages—"
"You've been saying that for three months."
"Because it's true. Just a few more weeks—"
"You said that last month." He shifted Lily to his other hip. "And the month before. And the month before that."
Victoria set down her briefcase. "What do you want me to say? This is my job."
"This is your life. We're your life. Lily is your life."
"I know that."
"Do you? Because she asked me today where Mom lives."
The words hit like a slap.
"That's not fair."
"She thinks you live at the office. That's where you sleep, where you eat. She asked if we could visit you there." His voice cracked. "She's two years old and she doesn't understand why her mother is never home."
"I'm building something for her. For our future—"
"We don't need a bigger future. We need you here. Now. Present."
Lily reached for Victoria. "Mom?"
Victoria took her, felt the familiar weight, the warmth.
"Hi, baby."
"You came home!"
"I always come home."
"But late. When I'm sleeping." Lily touched Victoria's face. "I miss you."
"I miss you too."
"Don't go back to the office."
Victoria looked at Michael over their daughter's head.
He looked exhausted. Worn down.
"I can't stay tonight. I have a seven AM call with Tokyo—"
"Of course you do."
"Michael—"
"I'm not doing this anymore."
"What do you mean?"
"Competing with your job for your attention. Begging you to be present. Explaining to our daughter why Mom can't make it to her birthday party on time or her first day of daycare or bedtime three nights in a row." He took Lily back gently. "I love you. But I can't keep doing this."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying choose. Us or the company. Because we can't keep coming second."
"That's not fair. You're asking me to give up my career—"
"I'm asking you to find balance. To set boundaries. To tell your family that you have a life outside of Thorne Empire."
"I can't just—"
"Yes, you can. You just won't."
The next morning, Victoria had gone to the office at six-thirty.
For the Tokyo call.
Then the merger meeting.
Then the board presentation her father insisted she lead.
She'd gotten home at ten PM.
Michael had already put Lily to bed.
They'd fought. Really fought.
He'd asked again: us or them?
She'd said she needed more time.
He'd said time was running out.
Present Day
Victoria set down the photo with shaking hands.
Three months later, Michael had filed for divorce.
Six months after that, he'd remarried.
Sarah was everything Victoria wasn't. Present. Available. Home for dinner every night.
A mother who showed up.
Victoria had seen her once, at a custody hearing.
Young. Kind-faced. The way she'd held Lily's hand so gently—
Like she'd earned the right.
Victoria picked up another photo from the box.
Their wedding day. Michael in his suit, her in white gown. Both of them so young, so certain.
"I'll always choose you," she'd whispered during their vows. "Always."
She'd meant it.
But when the choice actually came—
When her mother had pulled her aside and said the company needs you, Victoria. Your father is counting on you. The family is counting on you—
When her father had given her that look, the one that said don't disappoint me—
When the board had made it clear that taking time off, setting boundaries, choosing family over work was a sign of weakness—
She'd chosen them.
Over and over and over.
Until Michael stopped asking.
Until he packed Lily's things and left.
The custody agreement was finalized and Victoria became a weekend mother. Then a once-a-month mother.
Then nothing at all because Lily had cried every time the transition happened and Sarah had gently suggested maybe it would be better to wait until Lily was older, more stable, ready—
And Victoria had agreed.
Because she always agreed when someone told her what was best.
Except when it came to her own family.
Her real family.
The one she'd destroyed.
Victoria's phone sat on the dresser.
Michael's number was still in her contacts.
She'd deleted it a dozen times. Put it back a dozen times.
Never called.
What would she even say?
I'm sorry I chose wrong. I'm sorry I let them control me. I'm sorry I wasn't the mother Lily deserved.
Too little. Too late.
Her phone buzzed.
A reminder for a meeting she no longer had.
She deleted it.
Deleted the next one. And the next.
Cleared her entire calendar in under a minute.
All those obligations. Those responsibilities. All those things that had seemed so important they were worth sacrificing everything for.
Gone.
And she had nothing left to show for it.
No job. No family. No purpose.
Just an empty apartment full of expensive clothes she'd worn to impress people who'd never actually cared about her.
Victoria put the photos back in the box. Except the one of the three of them.
That one, she set on her nightstand.
Picked up her phone.
Stared at Michael's contact.
Her thumb hovered over the call button.
She'd done this a hundred times. Never pressed it.
But yesterday, she'd stood up to her parents.
Yesterday, she'd chosen Alexander. Chosen doing the right thing.
Maybe she could do it again.
Choose bravery over comfort trying over hiding.
Choose Lily.
Finally.
Years too late but maybe—maybe not too late forever.
She pressed call before she could change her mind.
It rang once. Twice.
"Hello?"
Michael's voice. Familiar. Wary.
Victoria's throat closed.
"Hello? Who is this?"
"It's me," she managed. "It's...Victoria."
Silence.
Then: "What do you want?"
"I—" Her voice shook. "I know I have no right to ask. I know I don't deserve—" She stopped. Started over. "I left my family. My parents. The company. Everything."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because you were right. About all of it. The choice I made. About—" She pressed her palm to her eyes. "You were right and I was wrong and I've regretted it every single day for three years."
More silence.
"Victoria—"
"I know it's too late. And I can't undo what I did. But I stood up to them. And I thought—I thought maybe—"
"You want to see Lily."
"Yes. Please. I know she doesn't remember me. I know she has Sarah now and Sarah is probably a better mother than I ever was but—"
"Stop."
She stopped.
"Sarah is a good mother. But she's not Lily's mother. You are."
Victoria couldn't breathe.
"Lily asks about you sometimes. Why you don't come anymore. If you stopped loving her."
"Never. I never stopped—"
"I know. I tell her that. But she needs to hear it from you."
"Then let me tell her. Please. I'll do whatever you want. Whatever terms you set. Just let me see her."
She heard him exhale. Heard voices in the background—Sarah, probably.
"Sunday. Two PM. The park on Maple Street. One hour."
"Thank you. Thank you so much—"
"Don't thank me yet. She might not want to see you. She might cry. She might—"
"I know. I'll take whatever she gives me."
"And Victoria?"
"Yes?"
"If you hurt her again, if you make promises you don't keep, if you choose your family over her one more time—you'll never see her again. I'll make sure of it."
"I understand."
"Do you? Because this is her last chance to have a mother. Don't waste it."
"I won't. I promise."
He hung up.
Victoria sat on her bed, phone still pressed to her ear.
Sunday. Four days away.
She'd see Lily in four days.
Her daughter. Who she'd abandoned. Who probably hated her. Who had every right to want nothing to do with her.
But Michael was giving her a chance anyway.
One last chance.
To do what she should have done five years ago.
Choose her child.
Victoria looked at the photo on her nightstand.
Lily at two. Smiling. Happy. Secure in her mother's arms.
She'd be seven now. Missing teeth. Reading books. Becoming a person Victoria didn't know.
But maybe—maybe she could get to know her.
If Lily would let her.
If she could prove she'd changed.
If it wasn't too late.
Victoria picked up the photo. Held it close.
"I'm coming back, baby," she whispered. "I'm so sorry it took this long. But I'm coming back."
The apartment was still too quiet.
But for the first time in three years, Victoria had somewhere to be.
Someone to fight for.
A reason to get up tomorrow.
Four days until Sunday.
A days to figure out how to be brave enough to face the daughter she'd failed.
Days to prepare for either redemption or rejection.
Either way, she'd show up.
That was a start.
Victoria set down the phone.
Looked at her closet full of work clothes.
None of them were right for a playground.
For meeting your daughter.
Trying to become a mother again.
She'd have to find something else.
Something that said I'm here. I'm trying. I'm sorry.
Though she suspected no outfit could say that.
She'd have to use words.
And hope they were enough.
Hope she was enough.
Finally.
After all this time.
Enough.