Chapter 29

VIVIANNE

The last week has been strange, to say the least—trying to fall back into a rhythm with Liam. We’ve slipped into our old routine, though any physical touch has been strained.

We agreed it would be best to keep living in the apartment together—it helps keep up appearances—but outside the office, we barely see each other.

Liam has been keeping his distance, and I haven’t exactly gone looking for him either.

As a kind of peace offering, I decide to bring home dinner. Maybe it’ll break the ice a little, loosen things up between us.

I walk through the front door, hands full of bags, looking like I overcommitted.

I drop the first two—Chinese takeout—on the counter, then head to my room to put away the rest of my things.

Liam isn’t home yet, so I shoot him a quick text.

Vivianne

When will you be back? I brought food.

Five minutes later, my phone dings.

Liam

Late night. Go ahead and eat without me.

I finish putting away my clothes, then walk back to the kitchen and stare at the bags of food. I start to open them but think better of it—I don’t want to eat without him.

My stomach growls in protest. Instead, I decide to take dinner to him. We’ve spent plenty of nights working late at the office—what’s one more?

I grab the bag and head out the door before I can talk myself out of it.

When I get there, the office is silent.

Dead quiet.

The sound of silence is almost eerie when no one’s around. I pass Jenna’s desk and round the corner. That’s when I hear it.

A soft, feminine giggle stops me in my tracks.

My brain screams at me to turn around, to go home. But my feet move anyway, slow and steady, carrying me toward his office—toward the sound that’s already cracked my chest in half.

“Liam, stop,” she says, half laughing, half whining.

I should keep going, I should run.

But I don’t stop until I’m right outside his door. It’s cracked open just enough.

“You’re so beautiful, Beth.”

His voice is low, thick with lust.

She purrs something back. Then they kiss—hungry, desperate. Like no one else exists.

My stomach swirls. I can’t breathe.

She’s pretty. Even from here, I can tell.

Blonde hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. Her slim frame perched on his desk like she’s done it before.

And something about her feels…familiar.

Like I’ve seen her before but can’t quite place it—just another twist in the knife.

Something breaks clean in my chest. Maybe I don’t have the right to feel this way—but I do. I’m hurt. Heartbroken.

The takeout slips from my hands and hits the floor. I turn and run, swallowing down the tears that already burn my eyes.

My stomach knots, threatening to empty itself, but I just keep going—back to the place I still call home. His apartment.

The reality of that hits me like a ton of bricks: I’m going back to ~his~ apartment.

And I have nowhere else to go.

When I walk in, my room feels like the only safe space left. I have a choice to make, and fast—before Liam comes back.

Leave now and lose everything, or stay. Finish the contract. Keep my distance. Survive it—and him.

I decide to sleep on it instead of making a rash decision led by a broken heart.

The food is still there, outside Liam’s office. He’ll see it. He’ll know I was there.

For a moment, I care. Then I don’t.

I change into pajamas and crawl into bed, desperate to end the day. But shame lingers, keeping me awake way longer than I want to be.

I hear the door open.

I’m not sure what time it is, and I’m not sure I care.

It closes softly. Maybe he’s avoiding me too.

Maybe I got lucky—maybe she left first, saw the takeout, and thought it was trash.

Then: two soft knocks on my door.

“Viv—Vivianne?” he says, his voice low, hesitant.

I don’t respond. I lie still, praying I’ll die from embarrassment before we have this conversation.

“Vivianne, please open the door. I know you’re awake.”

“No, I’m not,” I call out.

He laughs. Just a little. That laugh sends a chill through me. It’s the first sign my Liam is still in there. God, what is he doing to me—and without even trying?

It was my idea to end it. I should be fine.

But he still wrecks me.

I got the message. I ~saw~ her.

So why does it still hurt this much?

I swing open the door. His face is drawn, his eyes full of the same tension I feel in my own.

“We should probably talk,” he says.

Dread settles in my gut. I knew this was coming—I just don’t know what it means.

“Okay. Yeah. Let me put some pants on.”

When I step out, he’s sitting on the couch, fidgeting, wringing his hands. It’s odd to see him this nervous. But I guess I get it. This is awkward for both of us.

“So, you stopped by the office.”

“I sure did.”

“And you saw—” His voice trails off, his eyes finding mine.

“Yep.”

“I—uh—”

“Liam, just…stop.” I stand, needing distance. “It’s not my business. I made that bed. I was just bringing dinner because—whatever this is, it felt like the right thing to do. Stop explaining yourself. Really.”

“I just want you to understand—”

“Stop, Liam,” I cut in. “I get it. You have a girlfriend. One week after we broke up. We’re just friends again. We’re good. No need to explain.”

I’m already walking back to my room.

He doesn’t follow. Just sits there with a strange look on his face like even~ he~ isn’t sure how we got here.

Now I’m left wondering if our relationship was doomed from the start.

One week. That’s all it took for him to move on.

At least I’ve got five days before our next “mandatory couple” act. Five days to pull myself together.

Because I don’t have a choice. I still need the money.

And I gave Liam my word—I’d stick it out.

***

I pour coffee, leaning against the counter. Footsteps behind me tell me Liam’s awake. He’s dressed, adjusting his cuff links, eyes locked on mine.

My stomach drops. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. My feelings retreat, screaming warnings I ignored.

“Viv?”

“Hm?” I face him.

“Are you okay?” His brow furrows.

“Oh. Yeah, great,” I lie, the words tight in my throat.

His smile falters as he looks me over. I feel sick.

“Look, it kind of just happened. We met up for drinks recently and it just—”

He keeps talking. I want him to shut up, to go back to the way things were just a week ago.

I plaster on a smile.

~Think of the money. The contract. This is business. His charm doesn’t mean anything. ~

I throw up my walls as quickly as I can.

“What’s that look for?”

I hesitate. I can’t tell him the truth, and I don’t want to lie.

“What does this mean for me?” I say instead.

Understanding spreads across his face.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I still need you,” he says. “I’ll keep Beth quiet—for now. When the contract ends…”

My stomach drops.

“I thought the contract was supposed to stop this exact thing, though. It says we wouldn’t date anyone else. I thought you weren’t that kind of guy.”

“No, the contract says that ~you~ can’t date anyone.”

His tone is clipped, annoyed, and it makes my blood boil.

“So what, you cleared it with her? She’s okay with you publicly dating another woman for the next two months?”

His stiffens. “I think it’ll be fine. That’s my business, not yours. You made that pretty clear.”

It stings. He’s not wrong.

I want to scream, throw his checks back at him, and tell him to shove it.

But I don’t.

This was my doing.

I square my shoulders. He watches me, waiting.

“Ok, fine, it’s not my business. And look at that—I think it’s time for me to go.”

I don’t wait. I make it to the elevator before I hear the door open and shut. I stab the button, begging it to come.

“Viv?” he calls out, but the doors are already closing. “C’mon.”

The doors seal shut, and the hum of the elevator kicks in, steadying my breath just enough to stop the sting in my throat.

I’ll deal with the consequences later. Right now, I just need these few minutes alone to stop the sting in my throat.

Jenna spots me the second I walk into the office.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I mutter, heading straight for Liam’s office. I settle on the couch, preparing myself for a long day.

My face burns from embarrassment, from confusion, from everything.

When Liam finally arrives, he doesn’t say a word. Just sits at his desk, stiff and unreadable.

We go the whole day like that, working in silence. The air is thick with tension. Suffocating.

Seven hours later, Liam sends me home. No conversation, no warmth. Just a tight nod.

I walk home numb, like I’m drifting through someone else’s life. The cold outside matches the chill I can’t seem to shake.

Once I’m inside, the silence presses in on me. I look around, filled with emotions I don’t entirely understand.

“This is stupid,” I say to no one. I grab the Macallan from the kitchen cabinet. Then change my mind. Vodka. Elderflower. Something to soften the edge.

I pour a drink. Then another.

I turn on music and allow the wall I’ve so carefully built since Momma died to come down. Her death. My feelings for Liam. Ending things with him. His relationship with Beth. I let it all in, let it wash over me as I drink them away.

I start to dance, moving without grace or rhythm, knocking the coffee table out of the way. Just trying to feel something that isn’t this mess of emotions.

That’s when Liam shows up.

“Can we turn this down?” he asks. He doesn’t wait for a response.

He doesn’t yell. Doesn’t scold. Just walks in and lowers the volume.

I drop onto the couch with a huff, draining the rest of my drink. I don’t walk to talk. I don’t want to see him.

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What is this, Viv?”

I roll my eyes, get up, and stumble to my room, locking the door.

A moment later, Liam knocks. “Viv?” His voice is softer now.

“Go away, Liam,” I call through the door.

Then louder, rougher. “Vivianne. Open the goddamn door!”

I don’t know what makes me do it, but I swing it open wide.

“What?” I snap.

His eyes widen. “What?”

“You want to talk? Let’s talk.”