"What? That vile witch was there?" Renee asked loudly, stepping on the brakes.
Vivian had just finished narrating what happened in Nathan's office to her.
A car honked behind them. "Ren, don't get us killed," Vivian said. Then she asked, "do you know her?"
"Of course," Renee replied, "I'm not surprised she blamed you for spilling wine on the paper, neither am I shocked that Nathan supported her. She is his mistress after all."
But what she didn't understand was why Katrina would want to take the divorce papers.
Vivian nodded, her eyes drifting to the windshield as the buildings and cars blurred past. He had a mistress. And it seemed everyone knew her.
However, Vivian wasn't curious about the woman or felt any anger towards her.
"What type of marriage did I have with Nathan?"
The car stopped in front of a red light. She turned to Renee, whose hand tightened around the steering wheel.
"Y…ou… your marriage was..." Renee inhaled a scent of breath and rubbed one palm on her trousers.
Vivian sensed her hesitation and patiently waited for her to continue.
"You loved him, a lot." Silence, then Renee added, "maybe more than he loved you."
"Really?"
"Yes."
Vivian tilted her head to the side. She could not picture herself caring for a man who wasn't her father so much.
She racked her brain, trying to remember something, anything, a moment when she loved him, but nothing came forth.
The light turned green, and Renee stepped on the accelerator, propelling the car forward.
The rest of the ride was silent. Vivian was lost in her thoughts, what spell Nathan cast on her.
She would not let her company rot for anyone.
Love was a disease to a woman with goals; that was her motto when it comes to relationships, so she stayed far from it.
So why Nathan Cayne?
The car pulled to a stop in front of a massive black gate. "We're here," Renee announced.
Vivian lifted her eyes, taking in the surroundings. The fence was high, and so was the gate. She couldn't see anything past it. "Where is this place?" She inquired.
"Your home."
Vivian lifted a brow. "I lived with him?" She asked.
Of course, she lived with him. They were married after all. But this made it even more insane. She doesn't share her space with anyone.
She moved out of her father's house two years after setting up her company and never returned.
"Why would you bring me here?" Even if she has not signed the divorce papers, she doesn't consider herself married anymore.
"To get your things," Renee said with a smile. Vivian returned it. At the end of the day, Renee knew her best.
Renee drove through the driveway. Tall oak trees lined both sides, their branches swaying gently in the wind.
Cold air slapped Vivian's face immediately she alighted from the car. Grey clouds covered the sun, casting a shadow on the building.
Vivian looked around, wondering how a place that felt so unfamiliar could feel so much like home.
She walked to the door with Renee by her side.
Vivian raised her hand to knock, but Renee stopped her. "You don't have to." She gestured towards the fingerprint panel beside the door. "You can open it."
Renee has been in the house a few times, so she knew how to get into the house. Although the marriage was over, Vivian's fingerprint was still registered.
The door opened, and Vivian stepped in.
High ceilings, dark wood floors, cream furniture. Everything is expensive and perfectly placed.
But the first thing she noticed was the photo at the side.
It was large, and impossible to miss. Her in a white dress, his hand on her waist, both of them unrecognizable to her now.
Her smile was big and genuine, nothing like she remembered. She stepped closer to it, trailing the golden edge with her finger.
Something stirred within her. Dark and unfamiliar.
She stepped back and stared at the frame. The proof that she had truly married Nathan Cayne.
Vivian looked away from the frame at the sound of footsteps behind her.
A grey-haired woman came into view. "Madam." She said, rushing over. Her brows knitted together.
She picked Vivian's hand and clasped hers over it. She wore black trousers with a crisp white button-down tucked in neatly.
"Oh my goodness! Where have you been? You didn't tell me you were going away for a few days. I thought you went with Sir Nathan, but he returned yesterday, and you weren't with him." The woman said all at once.
Slowly, Vivian pulled her hand away from the woman's hold and took a step back.
She could tell the woman meant well because of the worried expression on her face. But she couldn't remember anything about her.
The woman was Mrs. Johnson, the live-in housekeeper. Vivian had built a close relationship with her over the years and saw her as a mother figure.
"I'm here for my things," Vivian stated clearly.
Mrs. Johnson's face fell. She noticed Vivian looked guarded. Although she didn't know why she acted differently, she respected her. Quickly, she schooled her features.
"Take me to my room," Vivian instructed.
"Alright, come with me." Mrs. Johnson's voice is soft and professional.
She led Vivian upstairs, then walked down the hallway without questions and stopped in front of a door. She bowed slightly and left Vivian alone just as she requested.
The room was large and neat. A king-sized bed sat in the center, a watch on the nightstand.
A faint scent she couldn't place but that felt oddly familiar.
She didn't linger on it.
Vivian took a suitcase into the walk-in closet and stopped.
It was divided down the middle, one side was hers and the other his.
The difference was as clear as daylight.
While his clothes were dark, structured, perfectly hung, hers were the opposite. Bright colors, soft fabrics, nothing she recognized as her own taste.
Had she really changed that much?
She threw in only a few dresses, then gathered some other personal things into a small box.
Vivian left the room with her luggage twenty minutes later.
Mrs. Johnson rushed to her side. Keeping a respectable distance between them, she asked, "Are you leaving?"
"Yes." Was Vivian's only reply. But seeing how the woman stared at her, she added. "Nathan and I are getting a divorce."
The woman nodded and tried to smile, but her lips shook. "Alright." It was not in her place to pry, even if she always knew the marriage would come to this.
Vivian placed her luggage into Renee's trunk and was about to get into the car when she stopped. "What's wrong?" Renee asked.
"There's something I must do." Vivian responded.
She turned and ran into the house. Renee followed behind her slowly. Immediately she stepped into the house when she heard a loud crash.