Two days later, the doctor discharged me. Adrian arrived, flowers in hand, charm in full force.
“Vivienne,” he said softly, “I’m sorry. I was angry, emotional. The business… it’s been hard lately.”
I stared at the red roses—the same ones he had given me the first time he lied.
He placed them on the bedside table and reached for my hand. “Please, let’s start over. I’ll focus on work. You can take care of Elias for now. He needs you.”
I nodded faintly. “Alright.”
He smiled, pressed a kiss to my forehead. “That’s my wife.”
But in my heart, I knew he wasn’t. Not really.
Then I saw her. Seraphine. Waiting in the hallway, arms crossed, expression smug and cold.
“So,” she said softly, venom in her voice, “you’re really still here.”
I didn’t answer. I just stared at her, tired, empty.
She smirked. “Once I come back from this trip, you better not be here anymore.” Leaning closer, her perfume sharp, heavy: “If I find you still breathing the same air as me, I’ll make you regret it.”
I met her eyes, calm, hollow smile forced onto my lips. “Yeah. Sure. You won’t have to see me again.”