I Really Don't Know

VIVIENNE

Piper visited me at my studio the next morning, curiosity written all over her face. The studio, with its high ceilings and bright windows, was my sanctuary. Whether it was my studio in New York or here in Paris. My studio was where I poured my heart into my designs, where I felt most in control. But today, it was also where I would have to face the reality of the previous night.

"So, Viv, what happened at the party?" Piper asked, settling into a chair by my desk. She looked around at the sketches and fabric swatches scattered everywhere, but her focus remained on me.

As usual, she felt at home in my studio. I sighed, setting down my pencil and halting on designing a purple outfit for Vera’s new doll which she requested.

"It was a mess, Piper. If only you were there. Ezekiel and Alex were present, and of course, drama followed,” I said.

Piper’s eyes widened with concern. "What did your ex-husband do?"

"He had the nerve to ask how I’ve been all these years, as if he cares,"