Vgghh
1735 Words
THE NIGHT SHE WALKED AWAY*
Vivian stepped through the tall carved doors of the Dary mansion, and everything inside her seemed to pause.
The marble beneath her heels felt colder than usual…… and heavier.
She kept walking.
Her steps echoed down the long front porch, bouncing off the pillars like they were mocking her.
She didn’t turn back…… not once.
Her eyes stared straight ahead, refusing to look at anything else.
The security guard rushed toward her, almost excited.
“Miss Vivian, are you leaving already?”
She didn’t answer.
Her throat felt tight, like something inside her was pushing up and choking her from the inside.
The guard saw the redness around her eyes and quietly stepped aside.
It was done.
Whatever happened in that mansion……
Whatever words had been spoken in that room……
It changed her.
Vivian descended the stairs slowly.
One step…… then the next……
The night air hit her cheeks and made the wet streaks from her tears feel like ice.
She walked through the iron gates.
The guard pulled them closed behind her, and the metallic clang sounded like a final door shutting on her life.
Her phone buzzed in her bag.
She didn’t check it.
She lifted her hand as a car approached.
The Uber stopped in front of her, the headlights turning her into a silhouette drowning in white light.
The driver leaned toward the passenger side window.
“Are you Vivian?”
She nodded slowly.
Her voice wouldn’t come out…… not yet.
She slid into the back seat and closed the door gently, as if slamming it would break whatever was left of her.
The driver glanced at her through the rearview mirror.
“Where are we headed?”
Vivian swallowed.
“Home.”
The car began moving.
She pressed her forehead against the cool window and stared outside.
Streetlights stretched across the road in blurry streaks as the city passed by her……
Almost as if time was moving without her permission.
Her reflection appeared faintly in the glass.
Her eyes were puffy.
Her lipstick smudged from crying.
Her face looked lost……
Like someone who had gone inside that mansion with hope
and walked out empty-handed.
Vivian placed her hand on her belly and rubbed gently.
Her baby bump was small but noticeable.
It was the only steady thing in her world right now.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
She didn’t know if she was apologizing to the baby, herself, or the future she imagined.
But the words escaped before she could stop them.
The baby kicked lightly.
Or maybe she just imagined it.
Either way, it made her inhale sharply.
“I’ll protect you…… no matter what happens,” she whispered.
Her voice cracked.
The driver turned down the music.
He didn’t speak.
He could feel the heaviness coming off her like waves.
Vivian closed her eyes, and a moment from the mansion flashed in her mind:
A long table.
Cold voices.
Pens on paper.
A decision she didn’t expect.
Her hands shook again.
No.
She wouldn’t think about it.
She couldn’t……
Not yet.
She opened her eyes and wiped her cheeks quickly, as though the act of wiping away the tears would erase everything that led to them.
The car pulled to a stop in front of her apartment building.
Vivian paid the fare with hands that trembled slightly.
She stepped out of the Uber, but didn’t move for a moment.
She stood still on the sidewalk……
Breathing…… or trying to.
Then she walked slowly to the door.
Her key shook in her hand as she unlocked it.
“Victor?” she called softly.
No answer.
She pushed the door open fully and stepped inside.
Silence greeted her.
Not the peaceful kind of silence……
The kind that squeezed the heart.
The apartment smelled faintly of laundry detergent and Victor’s cologne.
The couch cushions were still neat.
The center table was clean.
He wasn’t home.
Vivian’s shoulders fell.
She closed the door gently behind her and leaned against it……
As though she needed support just to stay upright.
“Victor……”
The name slipped out of her mouth like a plea.
She dropped her purse onto the kitchen counter and walked toward the bedroom.
The sheets were undisturbed.
The pillows still fluffed.
He hadn’t come home at all.
Vivian stood in the middle of the room, numb.
Her hands hung loosely at her sides.
She felt her throat tighten again.
“You said you would be here,” she whispered.
She sat on the edge of the bed and let her hands fall into her lap.
The tears came back.
She didn’t try to stop them this time.
She bent forward, elbows on her knees, face in her palms……
And cried.
Not the soft, quiet cry she did in public.
This was raw.
Her chest heaved.
A sob tore from her throat.
She tried to speak but her voice shook violently.
“You said…… we were a team.”
Tears streamed down her face and fell on the white sheets.
She pressed a hand against her belly, as if shielding the baby from her pain.
“Why weren’t you here?” she whispered.
“I needed you.”
She leaned back, eyes red, staring at the ceiling.
Her tears slowed, turning into dry, painful breaths.
She stood up slowly and walked to the living room.
She lowered herself onto the rug, sat with her back against the couch, knees pulled up to her chest.
And she hugged herself.
The quiet was suffocating.
Too heavy.
Too empty.
She closed her eyes again.
She didn’t cry anymore.
Now she just stared.
A long exhale escaped her lips.
She didn’t know what to do with this pain.
She didn’t know how to tell Victor what happened.
She didn’t even know how to tell herself.
All she knew was that her heart felt like someone had squeezed it in their fist.
……
Meanwhile, across the other side of the city…
Victor barged into Eric’s apartment without knocking.
Bang.
The door hit the wall.
Eric jumped, startled at first, then smirked when he saw who it was.
He was shirtless, wearing only sweatpants, a bottle in hand.
“You scared me,” Eric laughed.
“You look like a man who won something.”
Victor threw himself onto the couch, grinning wide.
His eyes bright from adrenaline.
“Eric…… you won’t believe it.”
Eric sat beside him, interest peaking.
“What?”
Victor leaned back dramatically.
“It’s happening,” he said.
“That thing we’ve been waiting for.”
Eric raised an eyebrow.
“She’s getting everything?”
Victor smirked.
“She will. I can feel it.”
Eric let out a slow whistle.
“So that means……”
He leaned in closer.
Victor raised a brow, enjoying the moment.
Eric finished the sentence for him.
“That means…… eventually…… it’ll be yours.”
Victor snapped his fingers.
“And ours.”
Eric smiled, pleased.
He set two glasses on the table and poured alcohol into both.
Victor grabbed his glass quickly, eager.
They clinked.
“To the future,” Eric whispered.
Victor laughed.
“To our future.”
They drank.
Eric disappeared briefly into another room and returned holding a small black box.
Victor sat up straight, smirk widening.
“No way,” he whispered.
Eric opened the box.
Drugs.
The type they only brought out when they were ready to celebrate something big.
“You’re serious tonight,” Victor breathed.
Eric nodded.
“If the future is coming, why wait?”
Victor laughed loudly.
He didn’t think about Vivian.
He didn’t wonder why she hadn’t texted.
He didn’t care.
All he saw was opportunity.
“Let’s begin,” Victor said.
And they did.
Laughing.
Snorting.
Drinking.
Touching.
Celebrating.
All based on an assumption.
They hadn’t asked Vivian anything.
They hadn’t seen anything.
They didn’t know anything.
But they acted like everything belonged to them already.
They danced to loud music, bodies tangled, intoxicated by greed.
“Imagine owning that mansion,” Eric whispered into Victor’s ear.
Victor smirked boldly.
“I already do.”
……
Back in the quiet apartment—
Vivian sat on the floor, hugging a pillow against her stomach.
She didn’t know how long she had been there.
Minutes…… hours…… time blurred.
Her phone buzzed.
Victor.
She ignored it.
It buzzed again.
And again.
She finally glanced at the screen.
Victor:
Hey love, you okay?
Victor:
I’m thinking about you.
Vivian let out a bitter breath.
Her fingers shook as she read his words.
He was “thinking about her”?
While she sobbed herself into exhaustion?
While she walked home alone with swollen eyes?
She dropped the phone onto the floor.
Tears filled her eyes again.
She didn’t reply.
Not because she didn’t want to.
But because she couldn’t.
She needed him earlier.
Not now.
She shifted slowly, lying on her side on the carpet.
Her hand rested on her belly as she whispered to her baby:
“We’ll be okay……
Even if I have to do this alone.”
Her eyelashes fluttered shut.
Her breathing slowed.
For the first time since she left that mansion……
She allowed herself to rest.
……
Across the city, Bianca sat in her luxurious apartment, wrapped in a silk robe.
She scrolled through baby names on her tablet, humming.
Her phone vibrated on the table.
Victor:
Everything is aligning. Trust me.
Bianca smiled like a queen crowning herself.
She poured champagne into a glass.
“To new beginnings,” she whispered.
She sipped slowly, enjoying the taste of a victory that wasn’t even real.
She had no idea Vivian was crying on the floor.
She had no idea the truth was the opposite.
They all believed Vivian had won something.
Only Vivian knew she had lost.
……
The night carried three very different emotions:
Vivian cried in silence.
Victor celebrated a fantasy.
Bianca planned a future she didn’t own.
But the truth remained hidden……
And Vivian wasn’t ready to reveal it.
Not yet.
She wanted her readers — her world — to feel the suspense.
To question.
To guess.
To wonder what really happened in that mansion.
Vivian closed her eyes and inhaled.
“I’ll tell the story later,” she whispered.
The baby moved gently, as if responding.
She placed her hand on her belly and smiled weakly.
“But tonight……
I heal.”
- Writer
