Chapter 67 – The Cruel Kind of Love
Her words struck sharp, but Edward’s face remained still. He had heard excuses before, and this one sounded just like the rest.
“Vivian,” he said quietly, “you stayed away because it was easier for you. Don’t pretend it was for my sake.”
Vivian sighed dramatically, her head resting on his shoulder. “You’re being unfair, love. I came back now, didn’t I? I realized how much I missed you–how much I need you.” She moved slightly on his lap, her hands sliding down to his chest. “We were perfect together. We can be perfect again.”
Edward caught her wrists gently, stopping her motion. “Vivian, stop.”
Her eyes lifted to his. “Stop what?” she asked, feigning innocence. “Loving you?”
He exhaled slowly. “Pretending.”
Something flickered in her eyes, brief and sharp. “Pretending?” she repeated, her tone turning cool. “Is that what you think this is?”
Edward didn’t answer immediately. He looked at her–not the beauty she flaunted, not the body pressed against his, but the person she had chosen to become. “I think you’re here because you don’t like losing. Or maybe you need something from me”
Vivian laughed lightly, though her voice trembled faintly beneath it. “You always were good at reading me. But maybe this time, you’re wrong.” Her hand rose again, fingers brushing the edge of his collar. “Maybe I came because I still love you.”
Edward leaned back slightly, creating a little space between them. “Vivian,” he said quietly, “we both know love isn’t what this is anymore.”
Vivian froze, the words hitting her harder than she expected. For a second, her charming facade faltered.
But only for a second.
Her smile returned, smaller, softer, and far more dangerous. “You say that, Eddie, but I know you. You can’t just stop loving me. You tried to cut me off, but here I am–and your heart still beats faster when I’m near.”
Edward looked her straight in the eye. “No, Vivian. It doesn’t.”
The words landed like a slap.
For a long moment, the room fell silent. Vivian’s eyes searched his face for something–hesitation, guilt, anything she could use–but found nothing.
She tried again, her tone shifting, sweetening. “Eddie, love, I made mistakes. But don’t push me away. I can make it right.” Her fingers slipped under his collar, tracing his skin lightly. “I still want you.”
Edward’s patience snapped just slightly. He grabbed her wrist again, firmer this time, and pulled her hand away from him. “Vivian, enough.”
Her eyes widened, a flicker of shock breaking through her charm. “Edward…”
“I said enough,” he repeated, his voice low but commanding. “You can’t just walk in here after disappearing for months and act like nothing happened.”
Vivian blinked rapidly, her lips parting. “I came back for you.”
“No,” he said quietly, “you came back for yourself.”
Vivian stared at him, speechless for the first time. She opened her mouth, but no words came. Her chest rose and fell quickly, emotion flashing behind her eyes–anger, pain, disbelief.
Edward looked away, running a hand through his hair. “Vivian, I’m not the man you left. And you’re not the woman I once thought I loved.”
Silence stretched between them. Vivian’s face trembled for a second before hardening again. “You think you’re better off without me? You think anyone will love you the way I did?”
Edward gave a faint, tired smile. “Yes. And this time it would be better. Do you know why? Because it’ll be real.”
Vivian’s eyes glistened. Whether from tears or fury, even she didn’t know. “You’ll regret this, Eddie,” she whispered, her voice shaking now. “You’ll see.”
Edward’s tone softened, but the firmness remained. “Go rest, Vivian. Your room has already been prepared.”
Vivian let out a soft laugh–bitter this time. “So Callista was right. I’m not welcome in your room anymore.”
Edward said nothing.
Vivian placed a hand on his shoulder, her voice lower now. “You can try to convince yourself you’re done with me, Eddie,” she whispered, leaning close, her breath brushing against his ear, “but you and I… we’re not over.”
Before Edward could respond, she pressed a soft kiss against his cheek. It wasn’t passion–it was a statement, a claim, a reminder.
Edward turned his face away, jaw tightening. “Goodnight, Vivian.”
Vivian’s lips curved faintly. “Goodnight, love,” she whispered.
She didn’t move.
Instead, she lingered there, her body still close to his, as if daring him to push her away again.
And then came the sound–three soft knocks on the door.
Edward froze.
Vivian’s smile deepened slightly. “Expecting someone?” she asked sweetly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
Edward’s pulse quickened. He recognized that knock instantly. Elara.
He shifted, trying to gently lift Vivian off his lap, but she held on tighter, her arms locked around his neck. “Vivian, get up,” he said quietly.
“Oh, come on,” she whispered, laughing under her breath. “Whoever it is can wait.”
The knock came again, firmer this time.
Edward tried again, this time his voice was sharper. “Vivian, please.”
But she only smirked and stayed where she was, pressing closer. “I like it here,” she murmured.
Edward’s frustration built. “Vivian…”
The door opened.
The soft creak of hinges echoed through the room like thunder in the quiet.
And there she was.
Elara stood in the doorway, holding the dinner tray in her hands. The light from the hall spilled into the room, framing her in a pale, golden glow. Her eyes found Edward first–and then Vivian, sitting across his lap, her arms draped around him, the satin of her gown glistening faintly in the lamp’s glow.
The tray in Elara’s hands trembled slightly, but she didn’t say a word.
Her lips parted, but no sound came.
The silence that followed was louder than any words could have been. Vivian’s faint smile remained, triumphant and knowing. Edward’s face went pale, guilt flashing across his eyes.
And Elara–she just stood there.
Still.
Silent.
Heartbroken.
The room seemed to freeze around her, every sound swallowed by the weight of that single, unbearable moment.