You Were Always Mine

Unspoken Words

"Get in line."

The words came out almost bored, though his cheek still burned red from the slap.

He didn't reach up to touch it nor did he flinch.

Vivian stood there, chest heaving, fist still curled tight at her side like she hadn't decided whether one slap was enough.

"You think I care?" His voice dropped lower, though something in his eyes betrayed him greatly.

"Half the city has hated me since I was twenty-three. You'll have to wait your turn."

"This isn't funny, Oscar."

"I'm not laughing."

She turned away from him, arms wrapping around herself as she paced toward the window, breath still ragged from the field.

Her legs trembled slightly beneath her, exhaustion finally catching up now that she'd stopped moving.

Oscar watched her sway, his eyes softening an inch.

"Sit down before you fall."

"I'm fine."

"You've been running for forty minutes on an empty stomach undoubtedly. " His voice hardened.

"Sit. Down."

She didn't sit, but she did stop pacing, one hand bracing against the windowsill to steady herself.

He crossed the room slowly, stopping just behind her but close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating off him even through the thin fabric of her blouse.

"You could've collapsed out there."

"Would that have made your headlines better or worse?" She asked.

His jaw ticked. "That's not what this is about."

"Isn't it?"

She spun to face him, eyes glassy.

"You didn't come rushing home because you were worried about me, Oscar. You came because your precious company is tied to mine now. Because whatever happens to my name happens to yours."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" Her voice cracked slightly, and she hated herself for it.

"The merger. Onyx Tech. God forbid anything tarnishes the Onyx name because of the woman you're stuck married to."

Something flickered dangerously behind his eyes.

“Monique.” He said, barely a whisper and that did more than enough to shut her up.

Goodness, it's been years since she'd heard him call her by her middle name.

Especially like that.

He stepped closer, and she had to tilt her chin up to hold his gaze, refusing to back down even as her pulse betrayed her, hammering hard against her ribs.

"Our companies are one entity now."

His voice was low, though there was an edge beneath it she couldn't quite place.

"Whatever happens to Pearl happens to Onyx. That video, those headlines, that incident outside your office, investors must have seen all of it by now. My board has already called twice."

"So there it is."

She let out a bitter laugh, stepping back from him.

"This was always about the company."

"Will you let me finish?"

She fell silent, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"Yes, this affects Onyx."

He wasn't looking away from her now, and something about his gaze made the air between them feel heavier than it should have.

"Yes, the board is panicking, and yes, I need this handled before Monday's shareholder call."

She scoffed. "Then handle it. That's clearly all you care about."

"For fucksake, will you let me finish?"

The near whisper in his voice made her still.

His hand lifted, and for a moment she thought he might reach for her face, might tuck back the damp strand of hair clinging to her cheek the way he had done without thinking so many times before.

His fingers hovered there, close enough that she felt the ghost of warmth against her skin.

"I remember what this used to do to you."

His voice had become quieter now, rougher at the edges.

"Back then. When the whole…."

He stopped himself mid-sentence, jaw tightening as though he'd heard the words a half-second too late to stop them.

His hand dropped back to his side.

"Forget it."

He stepped back, putting a full pace of distance between them, and the sudden cold where his warmth had been made Vivian's breath catch for an entirely different reason.

"No."

She stared up at him, something sharpening in her gaze despite the exhaustion still weighing her down.

"Say it."

"It's not important."

"That almost sounded like you meant it."

"Don't read into that."

"I'm not reading into anything."

Her voice wavered. "You just stood there and looked at me like…"

"Like what?" His eyes met hers, daring her to finish the sentence.

She didn't.

She couldn't, not without admitting she'd noticed it too, that same c***k in his usual armor she'd seen flicker and vanish more times than she cared to count over these past weeks.

The silence stretched between them.

"You slapped me."

He said it eventually, almost wry.

"You deserved it."

He shrugged. "Probably."

Neither of them moved.

The space between them had narrowed at some point without either of them quite deciding to close it, close enough that she could see the faint red mark still blooming across his cheek where her hand had landed minutes ago.

"What am I supposed to do?"

Her voice came out smaller than she intended, exhaustion finally cracking through the anger.

"Fix it." His tone had hardened again, retreating fully now.

"You're Vivian Pearl. You didn't build an empire by falling apart every time the tabloids found something new to gossip about."

Hell, he was the last person she had expected to be giving her advice right now.

"Get your legal team on the falsified document claims. Get PR ahead of the narrative instead of hiding from it. Find out who's behind this and end this.”

She held his gaze a moment longer, something unresolved still hanging thick in the air between them, neither of them willing to name it.

"Change."

He finally stepped further back, jaw set, the distance between them now fully restored.

"Eat something. Then get to work."

He turned toward the door without waiting for a response, pausing only once with his hand on the frame.

He wasn't quite looking back at her.

"For what it's worth."

His voice came out almost reluctant, like the words had escaped before he could stop them a second time.

"Don't run like that again. Not without someone knowing where you are."

He didn't wait to see how she took it. The door clicked shut behind him.

Vivian stood alone in the room, one hand still pressed lightly against the windowsill where he had been only moments ago.

The annoying part was, her heart hammered for reasons she refused, even now, to name.