You Were Always Mine

Aftermath

The drive back was silent.

After Vivain had stormed out of the bathroom and forced herself to endure another thirty minutes of whatever was left of dinner, sitting right next to the man who had blatantly told her she'd been available, it was finally time to go home.

Melody wanted to come with them, knowing Rick would drill her about her plans after college again but Louis had reminded her the ‘newly weds’ needed time together.

Vivian had tried not to laugh at how f*****g pathetic that sounded.

Newly weds.

Please! Spare her the bullshit.

Now, they were both seated in the car, after a long night of pretense, and heading back home.

Oscar kept both hands on the wheel, eyes fixed on the road ahead.

The city moved past in streaks of light but none of it registered.

Every few seconds, his jaw tightened, as if he was holding something in place by force alone.

Beside him, Vivian sat perfectly still.

She stared out the window, watching the world blur past, though she wasn’t really seeing it either.

Her fingers rested on her lap, neatly folded like she couldn't be bothered about him.

The problem was, she was doing it damn too well.

The memory of his hands on her waist kept interrupting everything else.

She shifted slightly, almost annoyed at herself for it.

Oscar caught her movement from the corner of his eyes.

He shouldn’t have.

Like hell, he shouldn't even be staring at her right now.

He told himself not to.

But he did anyway.

And that made the silence between them even heavier.

At a traffic light, the red glow washed over the interior of the car.

For a brief moment, they were two people sitting too close to pretend nothing had happened, and too far apart to acknowledge it.

The light turned green and Oscar pressed the accelerator.

Neither of them spoke.

When they reached the mansion, Vivian was the first to leave the car.

She stepped out before the attendants could even open her door fully, heels clicking against the driveway stone.

The night air was cooler here but it didn’t help calm the mix of rage and confusion she was feeling.

If anything, it made her more aware of everything she had been trying not to think about.

The way he had kissed her…

The way she had responded…

The way he had looked at her right before he stopped…

She tightened her grip on her clutch bag and walked inside without looking back.

Oscar watched her go, his eyes following her in silence.

He stayed in the car for a moment longer than necessary.

Then he stepped out.

Vivian reached her room and closed the door behind her.

Only then did she exhale slowly.

Like she had been holding her breath the entire night.

Her room was supposed to help her relax as she was in her comfort zone but tonight, everything looked and felt different.

She walked to the mirror without thinking.

Her reflection stared back at her.

Her hair was slightly loosened from the evening, lip color faded unevenly and eyes sharper than they should be.

She touched her lower lip briefly, recalling how perfect it had felt in the moment…

She stopped immediately after.

“What is wrong with you,” she muttered under her breath.

But there was no one to give her an answer.

Only the memory of him pressing her against the wall. The firmness of his grip. The way his restraint had cracked so easily.

And then…he pulled away like she meant nothing.

That thought tightened something in her chest.

She turned away from the mirror sharply, as if it had offended her.

“I hate him,” she said aloud this time.

But it didn’t sound convincing.

Not even to her.

Down the hall, Oscar had not gone to his room yet.

He stood by the window at the end of the corridor, looking out at the estate grounds.

The night breeze moved through the trees,l gently. Hell, everything outside looked calm.

Inside his head, nothing was.

He lifted a hand and ran it through his hair, pulling slightly at the roots as if that could reset his thoughts.

It didn’t.

The image kept returning; Vivian against the wall, her breath catching, the way she hadn’t pushed him away immediately.

That part bothered him more than anything else.

Because it meant…

No.

He cut the thought off before it formed properly.

He pushed off the window and walked into his room before his mind could come up with crazy theories.

Later that night, neither of them slept easily.

Vivian lay in bed staring at the ceiling.

At first, she tried to focus on work. Then on emails she needed to answer. Then on anything that wasn’t him.

It didn’t work.

Her mind kept replaying the same incident in full clarity like her brain had decided to choose today as her day of reckoning.

His hand at her waist, the heat of his breath. The moment he stopped.

That last part replayed differently each time.

Sometimes it felt like rejection, sometimes like hesitation and other times like regret.

And that uncertainty was what frustrated her the most.

She turned onto her side, pulling the blanket tighter around herself.

“This is ridiculous,” she whispered into the dark.

But her body didn’t agree with her mind.

Neither did her heartbeat.

*

In his room, Oscar sat on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees.

The lights were off and the mansion was relatively silent.

But his thoughts were not.

He kept seeing her face when he had kissed her.

That brief moment in between…when she had kissed him back without thinking.

That was the problem.

He exhaled sharply.

“You’re losing your mind,” he muttered to himself.

He stood up and dropped down to the ground, pulling push ups.

Maybe if he exhausted his muscles, his body would finally fall asleep.

His phone sat on the table untouched, glowing occasionally with notifications he ignored.

None of it mattered right.

Only the memory that refused to behave.

He stopped mis push up and stared at the floor for a long moment.

Then, almost as if admitting it to himself was dangerous,

“…What are you doing to me?”

The question had no answer.

And that irritated him more than anything else.