Chapter 43 Vivian
Chapter 43 Vivian
Liana's POV
The clinic exit felt like an escape. Adrian and I walked in silence to the car, the lingering scent of antiseptic clinging to my clothes. The city hummed around us, a stark contrast to the sterile quiet of the hospital. I needed to shift gears, to leave the weight of diagnoses and treatments behind.
“So, jewelry shopping,” I said, breaking the quiet as Adrian pulled out into traffic. “I know just the place. Small, family-owned. They do incredible custom work, but their ready-to-wear pieces are stunning too.”
Adrian gave me a small smile. “Lead the way. I’m completely out of my element here.”
“That’s fine,” I chuckled. “More fun for me. So, what’s your cousin like? Any particular style? Does she like dainty or bold? Gold or silver?”
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. “Honestly, I… I don’t really know. We haven’t spent much time together. Not since we were kids, anyway. I was actually hoping to get to know her better while I’m here.”
I arched an eyebrow, a mischievous grin playing on my lips. “Oh, really? Is this ‘cousin’ code for a new special someone? Because I’m a terrible wing-woman if you’re trying to impress a secret crush with my impeccable taste.”
His eyes met mine briefly, a hint of amusement in their depths. “You caught me. Alright, fine, you win. It’s my long-lost identical quintuplet sisters, whom I've never met, and I need to buy them all matching necklaces for their shared birthday.”
I laughed, a genuine, unburdened sound. “Okay, okay, I get it. You were pulling my leg. No need for such elaborate fiction. Let's just focus on finding something beautiful.”
The jewelry store was all hushed elegance, soft lighting glinting off glass display cases filled with precious stones. I gravitated towards the delicate silver and rose gold pieces, explaining my choices to Adrian. “See, something like this, a really fine chain with a small, intricate pendant. It’s classic, versatile. Or maybe these, pearl studs, timeless.” We spent a good hour, whittling down options. He listened intently, occasionally asking questions, but mostly deferring to my judgment. Finally, we settled on a delicate silver necklace with a small sapphire and a matching pair of earrings.
“Perfect,” I declared, feeling a surge of satisfaction. “She’ll love them.”
After the purchase, I decided we needed more. “Alright, next stop, dresses. Just around the corner, actually. Another one of my favorites.”
Adrian followed me willingly, carrying the small, velvet-covered jewelry box. “So, are we buying more for my imaginary cousin, or are you just using me as an excuse to shop?”
“A little of both,” I admitted, leading him into a boutique filled with racks of colorful fabrics and shimmering sequins. “But seriously, a beautiful dress is always a good idea. Besides, it’ll be easier for me to recommend something if I can see how it looks on you. You and your cousin have roughly the same build, right?”
He blinked at me. “How do you know that?”
I shrugged. “Hospital gossip. Plus, she’s a relative. It’s usually an educated guess. Come on, hold this up.” I handed him a flowing emerald green dress. “Arms out, like this.”
He grumbled good-naturedly but held the dress against his frame as instructed, his tall, broad form comically contrasting with the delicate garment. We moved through the racks, me pulling out dresses, him holding them up, occasionally offering an opinion.
I was reaching for a shimmering gold cocktail dress a few aisles over when I felt a light tap on my shoulder. “Adrian, what now?” I muttered, not turning around immediately, already anticipating some witty remark. I pulled the dress from the hanger.
“So, it really is you,” a voice said, clear as a bell, right behind me.
My heart jumped into my throat. That voice. It couldn’t be. I slowly turned, the gold dress falling from my fingers.
Standing there, a few feet away, was Vivian. My younger sister. Her eyes, so much like mine, widened slightly as they landed on Adrian, who was still holding an armful of dresses. Her gaze flickered between him and the scattered clothes.
“Vivian?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
“I was on the other side,” she said, her voice laced with a strange mix of disbelief and something else, something I couldn’t quite decipher. “I kept looking, thinking, ‘No, it can’t be,’ but then I saw you pick that dress… and him… I just had to come see.” Her eyes narrowed as they returned to Adrian, who now stood awkwardly, his arms still laden with dresses. “Have you… have you remarried, Liana?”
The question hung in the air, a physical thing, suffocating me. “No,” I snapped, the word feeling harsh even to my own ears. My composure, so carefully maintained throughout the day, began to crack. “Adrian, we should go.” I started to push past her, a desperate need to escape rising within me.
But Vivian stepped into my path, blocking my exit. “Wait, Liana. We’re still family, no matter what happened.” Her voice took on that pleading tone she used when she wanted something, or when she thought she was being the reasonable one.
A flash of anger, hot and visceral, shot through me. Family? After everything? I opened my mouth, ready to unleash a torrent of suppressed resentment, to remind her exactly what ‘happened’ and whose fault it truly was.
But then, a warm, firm hand closed over mine. Adrian’s. He squeezed gently, a silent warning, a grounding force. His voice was low, barely a murmur, but clear. “Don’t, Liana.”
His touch, his warning, cut through my anger. It didn't extinguish it, but it reined it in. I clenched my jaw, the unspoken words burning on my tongue.
Vivian, emboldened by my silence, pressed on. “You have to put the past behind you. You were at fault too, you know.”
I stared at her, an icy calm settling over me. Her words, usually designed to wound, landed with surprising impotence. At fault? Me?
A slow smile, devoid of humor, spread across my face. “You know what, Vivian?” I said, my voice eerily calm. “You’re absolutely right. I agree. One hundred percent.”
Vivian blinked, taken aback by my unexpected agreement. “Good,” she said, a hint of satisfaction in her tone. “Good. I’ll tell Mom and Dad you’re back. We can have dinner. You know, catch up.”
My smile widened, a cold mask. “I’ll think about it,” I said, pulling my hand free from Adrian’s gentle grasp. This time, I didn’t push past her. I simply walked around her, my spine rigid, my gaze fixed straight ahead. I felt Adrian fall into step beside me, the dresses still cradled in his arm. I didn't look back. I couldn't.