Chapter 26 Vivienne
Vivienne
Safe in Julian's arms, I felt the adrenaline from the past few minutes slowly ebb away.
The relief of seeing him unharmed, the pride in watching him handle himself with such controlled precision, the absolute certainty that he'd never once lost his temper or used more force than necessary—it all combined into a fierce surge of love that made my chest tight.
Looking back at the lawn, I could see the four men slowly picking themselves up, nursing bruised egos more than physical injuries.
"Come on," I said, sliding down from Julian's arms but keeping hold of his hand. "Let's go face the music."
We walked hand in hand back toward the deck where my parents stood with Frank Heathrow, all three of them wearing expressions of shock, embarrassment, and uncertainty.
The carefully planned afternoon had gone spectacularly off the rails, and everyone seemed to be waiting for someone else to take the lead.
"Mom, Dad, Frank," I said firmly as we reached them, "I'd like you to properly meet Julian Thorne. My boyfriend. The man I've been telling you about, who you assumed was fictional."
Frank, who had made the quick assumptions when he came by with his son Mike, introduced himself to Julian properly.
"Frank Heathrow," he said, extending his hand cautiously to Julian. "Danny's uncle, Mike's father. I owe you an apology, son. We jumped to conclusions."
"We all did," Julian said, accepting the handshake with characteristic grace. "Though I understand why. The injuries look suspicious without context."
"That's just it," I said, my frustration finally boiling over. "You didn't ask for context. None of you did. You saw bruises and immediately assumed the worst about Julian, about me, about our relationship even when I informed you otherwise."
My parents had the decency to look ashamed, but I wasn't finished.
"And Mom, Dad—what exactly were you thinking, inviting half the town's eligible bachelors to ambush me? Did it occur to you that maybe, just maybe, when I told you I was bringing my boyfriend home to meet you, I meant it?"
"Sweetheart," Mom said weakly, "You have to understand—"
"No," I interrupted. "You have to understand. I'm thirty years old. I don't need you to manage my love life or arrange introductions with men I went to high school with. When I tell you I'm happy, when I tell you I'm in love, I need you to respect that."
Dad cleared his throat. "Vivienne, we just wanted—"
"You wanted me to settle down with someone safe, someone familiar, someone from here," I said. "But that's not what I want. I want someone who challenges me, who sees me as I really am, who makes me want to be better than I was before I met him."
I squeezed Julian's hand, feeling him squeeze back in support.
"Julian is that person," I continued. "And if you'd given him a chance, if you'd trusted me enough to believe that I could make good decisions about my own life, you would have seen that."
The silence that followed was heavy with the weight of years of misunderstandings, of my parents' well-meaning but misguided attempts to protect me from choices they didn't understand.
"You're right," Dad said finally. "We were wrong. About the setup, about not believing you, about..." He gestured toward the lawn where the other men were still recovering. "About all of it."
"I'm sorry, honey," Mom added, tears in her eyes. "We love you so much, and we just wanted—"
"I know what you wanted," I said, my voice gentling slightly. "But I need you to trust that I know what's best for me. And what's best for me is Julian."
Before anyone could respond, Julian's phone rang. He glanced at the screen and frowned.
"It's Kane," he said apologetically. "I should take this."
"Go ahead," I said, watching as he stepped away for privacy.
I could see the tension in his posture as he listened, the way his expression shifted from concern to something darker. After a few moments, he looked back at me with a question in his eyes.
"Hang on, Kane," Julian said into the phone, then moved closer to me. "Vivienne, Kane couldn't track down that photo of you and Rafael. It hasn’t surfaced yet, so even though it’s not much, it is something."
My stomach dropped. "It's still out there?"
"It is," Julian said carefully. "But something happened that Kane thinks could solve this problem.
Scarlett was arrested at 3 a.m. this morning—driving under the influence with drugs in her car.
She's being charged, and with her legal troubles, the media attention has shifted completely away from us. "
I felt a complicated mix of emotions—relief that the photo situation was resolved, but also something uncomfortable about how it had been handled. "Is she okay?"
Julian's expression softened at my concern. "She will be. Kane didn't manufacture the situation—she'd apparently been spiraling for weeks. He just made sure the right people were in the right place at the right time."
"So it's really over?" I asked.
"The photo drama? I hope so. And Scarlett won't be causing any more problems for a while."
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "Then maybe we can actually enjoy the rest of this visit."
Julian finished his call with Kane and returned to where my parents and Frank were standing awkwardly, clearly unsure how to proceed after the afternoon's chaos.
"I think," Dad said slowly, "We owe you both an apology. A real one."
"And maybe," Mom added, "We should all sit down and start over. I made enough food for an army, and it seems a shame to waste it."
I looked at Julian, who nodded. "I'd like that."
As we all moved to bring the last of the food and drinks outside—the men from the lawn had sheepishly departed, probably nursing their wounds in private—the tension began to ease. By the time we were seated around the table, the atmosphere had shifted from hostile to cautiously friendly.
"So, Julian," Frank said as he accepted a plate of food, "What exactly do you do in fashion design?"
What followed was the dinner conversation that should have happened from the beginning.
Julian explained his work with patience and genuine interest in their questions.
Dad asked about the business side of things, Mom wanted to know about the creative process, and everyone began to relax and engage in actual conversation.
At one point, as the sun began to set and the wine had flowed freely enough to mellow everyone out, Dad cleared his throat.
"Julian, I have to ask—and I mean this with all due respect—can you promise me you'd never hurt my daughter?"
Julian set down his glass and met my father's eyes directly. "Mr. Ellis, I can promise you that the day I ever deliberately hurt Vivienne—physically or otherwise—is the day I'd chop off my own arm. She's the most important person in my world, and I'd rather hurt myself than cause her pain."
The certainty in his voice, the absolute conviction, made my chest tight with emotion. Around the table, I could see the remaining doubt in my parents' faces finally dissolve.
"Good enough for me," Dad said, extending his hand across the table for a proper handshake.
As the evening wound down and the last of the wine was poured, I felt the exhaustion of the day catching up with me. It had been a rollercoaster—the alarm clock incident, meeting my parents, the ambush setup, and now this cautious peace.
"Mom, Dad," I said, stifling a yawn, "It's been a long night. I think we should head out."
"Head out?" Mom looked confused. "Sweetheart, your room is just the way you left it last time. You don't need to go anywhere."
"We're staying at a hotel," I explained gently.
"A hotel?" Dad frowned. "That seems silly when we have room here."
"Tom, they're adults," Mom said, though her tone suggested she wasn't entirely comfortable with the implications. "They can make their own choices."
"We'll come back tomorrow," I promised. "Dad, I thought maybe we could hit the farmer's market while Mom's teaching?"
Dad's face brightened. "I'd like that. They've got a new vendor with the best tomatoes you've ever tasted."
"It's a date," I said, standing and pulling Julian up with me.
After a round of hugs and promises to return in the morning, we finally made it to the waiting car. The driver opened the door, and I slid into the back seat with Julian following, the privacy screen already raised to give us space.
The moment the door closed, I melted against Julian's side, the day's events finally catching up with me.
"I'm so sorry," I said quietly. "About all of it. The setup, the fight, my parents assuming the worst—"
"Vivienne," Julian interrupted gently, his arm coming around to pull me closer. "You have nothing to apologize for."
"But—"
"Nothing," he repeated firmly. "Your parents love you and were trying to protect you. The men thought they were defending someone who needed defending. It was all a misunderstanding, and it's resolved now."
I tilted my head up to look at him, noting the slight swelling on his knuckles, and I was sure he was sore from the fight.
"You know what was incredibly sexy?" I said, my voice dropping to a lower register.
"What's that?"
"Watching you handle yourself back there.
The way you stayed so calm, so controlled, the way you protected yourself without losing your temper or hurting anyone more than necessary.
" I let my hand drift to his chest, feeling his heartbeat accelerate under my palm.
"The way you stood up for yourself, for us. "
Julian's eyebrow winged up with interest. "Is that so?"
"Mm-hmm," I hummed, letting my fingers trace patterns on his chest. "And I was thinking that when we get back to the hotel, maybe I could play nurse. Check you over for injuries, kiss any bruises I find..."
Julian's hand came up to cup my face, his thumb brushing across my lower lip. "I like the sound of that."
"Just like?" I challenged, pressing closer.
"Love," Julian corrected, his voice rough with desire. "I love the sound of that."
The drive to the hotel seemed to take forever, but finally we were checking in, making our way to the room with hurried footsteps. The moment the door closed behind us, Julian pulled me against him, his mouth finding mine in a kiss that was hungry and possessive.
"So," I murmured against his lips, "Where exactly does it hurt, Mr. Thorne?"
His smile was wicked. "I think I'll need a very thorough examination to be sure."