The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 504

Ailie glanced from Victoria to McNeil, lying motionless in the hospital bed. “Vicky—”

Victoria’s expression remained calm, with not a trace of blame for Ailie.

“I’m divorced from him. But he’s still the father of my three kids.”

Ailie’s frustration flared. “So what, you plan to stay single forever? Just hang around him for life?”

Victoria shook her head. “It’s not about hanging around. After the divorce, I never planned to remarry. Honestly, I’m fine on my own. You know me—I’m not the kind of woman who needs a man as some kind of accessory.”

She meant every word.

She’d married McNeil out of love, given up every passion she had and thrown herself into the fire, only to end up burned to ashes.

She’d had Gwyneth for love, too. As for Chris and Celia, she simply couldn’t abandon her own children. She’d brought them into the world—there was no way she could ever destroy them.

That’s just a mother’s instinct.

Ailie had never experienced that head-over-heels kind of love, never loved anyone so deeply it left a mark. She didn’t understand.

Victoria understood all too well. And maybe that’s why, now, she seemed so at ease.

She didn’t want to shy away from the pain McNeil’s accident brought her. That pain was part of her—part of being a woman who’d loved. But after everything he’d done, the pain didn’t even cut that deep anymore.

“Ailie, stop worrying about me. I’m not staying single for McNeil’s sake. I just like the freedom. Really.”

But Ailie had stopped listening. For a split second, she almost wished McNeil hadn’t made it out of the ER at all.

“All right, just be honest with me—if McNeil wakes up and asks you to take him back, what will you do?”

Victoria didn’t answer. Ailie looked like she could bash her head against the wall, pressing her forehead with a groan of frustration.

“Forget it. Don’t tell me. I don’t even want to know.”

McNeil would always be the father of her children. She could live without a husband, but losing a father was something her kids should never have to face. No matter what Ailie said, the question of whether she’d take McNeil back couldn’t be answered with a simple yes or no.

Victoria took his hand, her voice steady and filled with resolve.

“McNeil, you’ve been selfish for six years. You left me to worry, to carry the load. Just this once, can you think of me instead? Think of your three kids. Please, don’t just slip away.”

Tears slid down her cheeks. She didn’t let herself break down, but she couldn’t stop them from falling.

How was she supposed to explain all this to Gwyneth?

Violet’s knife had terrified Gwyn, left her not just shaken, but betrayed. A six-year-old shouldn’t have to bear a wound like that.

Victoria let herself grieve for a while, her eyes rimmed red.

Violet—she would make sure Violet spent the rest of her life paying for what she’d done.