15. Vivienne
Vivienne
"Director of European Operations," Laura reads from the offer letter spread on her coffee table. "Comprehensive benefits package, housing allowance, relocation expenses... and that salary." She lets out a low whistle. "Gerald isn't messing around."
I stare at the formal offer that arrived by courier this morning, trying to muster the excitement I should feel.
Six months ago, this position would have been a dream come true—the perfect escape from my parents' influence, recognition of my talents, a chance to build something that's entirely mine.
Now, it feels like an ultimatum. London or New York. Career or... what, exactly?
"I can see the wheels turning," Laura says, pouring more wine into my glass. "Talk to me."
"I should take it," I say automatically. "It's everything I've worked for."
"That's not what I asked." She settles beside me on her couch, tucking her feet under her. "How are you feeling?"
The simple question breaks through my professional mask. "Confused. Angry. Heartbroken."
Laura's expression softens. "Because of Jaxon?"
"Because of all of it." I take a long sip of wine, letting the warmth spread through me.
"The London job is perfect on paper. But it means leaving Lily, who's already been abandoned by enough adults in her life.
It means giving up whatever might be developing with Jaxon, despite his frustrating inability to commit.
It means starting over, alone, in a new city. "
"But staying means what? Working under Richard and Derek's thumbs? Watching your parents use your relationship for social currency? Loving a man who's too scared to love you back?"
Her brutal honesty makes me wince. "When you put it that way, London sounds downright appealing."
"I'm playing devil's advocate," she clarifies. "Listing the negatives to see if they outweigh the positives of staying."
"And what positives would those be?" I ask, more bitterly than intended.
Laura gives me a look that suggests I'm being deliberately obtuse. "Lily adores you. Your Lumina campaign is breaking records. And Jaxon..." She hesitates. "Despite his emotional constipation, that man is clearly in love with you."
I laugh sharply. "Is he? Because he has a funny way of showing it."
"Men are idiots," she says matter-of-factly.
"Don't psychoanalyze him," I warn. "You've never even met him."
"Don't need to. You've told me enough." She ticks points off on her fingers.
"Parents who were physically present but emotionally absent.
Brother who got everything regardless of merit.
Dead brother who leaves him a child to raise.
Child's mother who abandons her. It doesn't take a psychology degree to see why the man might have trust issues. "
"Understanding why someone is emotionally unavailable doesn't obligate me to accept it," I counter.
"No, it doesn't." She refills our glasses. "But it might help you decide if what you feel for him is worth fighting for, despite his issues."
I stare into my wine, watching the liquid catch the light. "We slept together."
Laura's eyebrows shoot up. "When?"
"Three days ago. I went back to get some papers I'd forgotten. We argued, and then..."
"And then you had angry make-up sex," she finishes with a grin.
"It wasn't like that," I protest, feeling my cheeks heat. "It was... I don't know how to describe it. Intense. Intimate."
"And afterward?"
My smile fades. "Afterward, reality intruded. Luke called about tour dates and legal motions. Jaxon immediately shifted back into problem-solving mode. When I pushed him to tell me what he wanted—really wanted—from us, he couldn't answer."
"Hmm." Laura studies me over the rim of her glass.
"What?"
"Nothing. Just thinking that for two intelligent, accomplished people, you and Jaxon are remarkably bad at communication."
"We communicate fine," I argue. "The problem is that what we're communicating doesn't align. I want commitment, connection, and partnership. He wants..." I trail off, realizing I don't actually know what Jaxon wants. He's never explicitly told me.
"Have you asked him? Directly?"
"Of course I have," I say, then pause, thinking back to our conversations. "Well, I've asked what he wants from us. From our relationship."
"But have you told him exactly what you want? In clear, unambiguous terms?"
I open my mouth to respond, then close it, considering. Have I? Or have I been expecting him to simply understand, to read between the lines of my emotional reactions?
"We're not talking about a business negotiation," I say finally. "This is a relationship. There should be some intuition involved."
Laura snorts. "Right. Because men are so famously intuitive about women's feelings."
"You're not helping."
"I'm helping enormously. You just don't like what I'm saying.
" She sets down her wine glass, expression turning serious.
"Viv, I've known you since college. You're brilliant, driven, and fiercely independent.
But you've always struggled with vulnerability—with explicitly asking for what you need emotionally. "
The observation stings because it's accurate. "My parents aren't exactly models of healthy emotional expression."
"Exactly. And you've spent your life building walls to protect yourself from their manipulation. Is it possible you're expecting Jaxon to scale those walls without giving him a map?"
I consider this, uncomfortable with the implications. "Maybe. But he has his own walls. Massive ones."
"So you're both standing on opposite sides of your respective fortresses, shouting at each other and wondering why the other person isn't hearing you clearly." Laura shakes her head. "Sounds like a recipe for happiness."
My phone buzzes with a text, offering momentary reprieve from Laura's uncomfortable insights. It's from Mrs. Patterson:
Lily's been asking for you. Any chance you could stop by tomorrow? She's having a difficult time understanding your absence.
Guilt twists my stomach. In my emotional turmoil over Jaxon, I've neglected to consider how my sudden disappearance might affect Lily.
"Everything okay?" Laura asks, noting my expression.
"Lily's been asking for me." I show her the text. "I haven't seen her since I left the house."
"Are you going to go?"
"I don't know if it's a good idea," I admit. "Jaxon and I aren't exactly on speaking terms right now."
"This isn't about Jaxon," Laura points out. "It's about a little girl who misses you."
She's right, of course. Whatever complications exist between Jaxon and me, Lily is innocent collateral damage. The thought of her confusion and hurt makes my decision simple.
"I'll go tomorrow," I tell Laura. "Jaxon has custody hearing prep in the morning. I can see Lily without risking an awkward encounter."
Laura studies me for a moment. "You know, for someone who's supposedly just fulfilling the terms of a business arrangement, you've gotten awfully attached to his niece."
"She's an easy child to love," I say softly.
"And her uncle?"
I don't answer, but my silence speaks volumes.
"The London offer expires Friday," Laura reminds me gently. "That's the day after tomorrow."
"I know." I trace the rim of my wine glass, anxiety building. "Gerald wants an answer by noon."
"For what it's worth," Laura says, "I think you already know what you want to do. You're just scared to admit it because it means being vulnerable."
"What would you do?" I ask, genuinely curious. "If you were me, standing at this crossroads?"
She doesn't hesitate. "I'd choose love. Career opportunities come and go. Finding someone who makes your heart race and your soul feel at home? That's rare."
"Even if that someone might not be capable of giving me what I need?"
"You won't know unless you ask for it. Clearly. Directly. Without room for misinterpretation." She squeezes my hand. "The Vivienne I know has never backed down from a challenge. Don't start now."
Her words follow me into restless sleep, where my dreams are filled with airports and tearful goodbyes, with empty blue rooms and Lily's confused face asking why everyone keeps leaving her.
Morning brings no clarity, only the resolve to see Lily before making any final decisions. I arrive at the Hart mansion shortly after ten, when I know Jaxon will be meeting with his lawyers downtown. Mrs. Patterson greets me with obvious relief.
"Thank goodness you've come," she says, ushering me inside. "Lily's been absolutely miserable. Barely touching her meals, not interested in playing. She keeps asking when you're coming back."
The information twists the knife of guilt deeper. "Where is she now?"
"In her room. She didn't want to go to her friend's house this morning, even though they'd planned a playdate all week."
I climb the familiar stairs, heart heavy with the knowledge that I may soon be saying a permanent goodbye to this house, to the child who has unexpectedly claimed a piece of my heart.
Lily's door is closed, a crayon-drawn sign warning "KEEP OUT" taped haphazardly to the wood. I knock gently.
"Go away," comes the muffled response.
"Even if it's me?" I ask.
There's a scrambling sound, then the door flies open. Lily stands there in unicorn-patterned pajamas, hair unbrushed, eyes widening with disbelief that quickly transforms to joy.
"Vivienne!" She launches herself at me, thin arms wrapping around my waist with surprising strength. "You came back!"
I kneel to her level, returning her fierce hug. "Of course I did. I'm sorry I've been away."
She pulls back, studying my face with that uncanny perceptiveness children sometimes possess. "Uncle Jaxon said you might be moving to London."
So he's told her already. The knowledge stings. "That's... a possibility," I admit carefully. "I have a big job opportunity there."
Her face falls, lower lip trembling slightly. "But that's really far away. We wouldn't see you anymore."
"We could video chat," I offer weakly. "And I'd come visit when I could."