Nightstand

Charles leaned back in his chair, a smile stretching across his face as he looked her up and down with contempt. 

“Your fair share?” he sneered. “What exactly do you think you’re worth, Vivian? You’re nothing. You contributed nothing to this company or my life. Whatever you think you’re owed, you’re mistaken.”

Vivian clenched her fists, feeling the state of humiliation and rage surge in her chest. 

She had had enough of his insults. He had begged her to help him out, but now, he pretended like he did not even recall.

He was supposed to be her husband; the man she had given up her dreams and opportunities for, the man she had stood by, believing in him when he was at his lowest. And now he was discarding her like she was worthless and a piece of garbage.

“Nothing, huh?” she shot back, her voice shaking. “Well, remember this moment, Charles. I gave up my dreams and contributed to the growth of this company. Just bear it in mind that I will make you regret it.”

"What company are you talking about, Vivian? Stop being delusional. I built this company from scratch with my sweat and money. You contributed absolutely nothing, other than being a nuisance. If anyone had been married at the lowest, it is you. Not after your mother abandoned you, seeing how worthless of a human you are," Charles sneered, his words breaking her heart into pieces.

She looked at him in surprise. She would never believe he would say such harsh things to her. 

She didn't even know how to feel about everything that had happened in her marriage. She had endured all the pain and humiliation from him, and now, it was the end.

To save what was left of her, she needed to accept the reality that her marriage had failed.

"You will regret this day, Charles Norman." 

“Regret?” He laughed. “Vivian, you don’t have the power to make me regret anything. Now, take what little dignity you have left and get out of my office. Go find some other man to leech off of.”

She refused to let him see her break down. She turned and stormed out of the office.

She walked through the streets, feeling lost, and abandoned. She found herself in a dimly lit club and began to order drink after drink, drowning her sorrow, her humiliation, and her heartbreak until everything felt numb.

Her head was spinning. Then she felt a hand on her arm.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he said, pulling her toward the exit. “Let’s get you out of here.”

“No,” she mumbled, trying to pull her arm away, but her strength was weak.

“Hey,” a deep voice cut through. Vivian turned, struggling to focus on the man who had appeared beside her. “She said no. Back off.”

"Hey, who the hell are you? Can't you see that I'm with her? Leave and mind your business," the man responded, clearly annoyed by his interruption.

"Let her go now if you still want to leave her alive," he replied, his voice deep and cold.

The man released her arm, mumbling something under his breath as he ran away into the crowd. 

Vivian blinked up at her rescuer, trying to make sense of his features. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with deep black eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice softer now, almost gentle.

He could not make out her face as her long hair had covered her face, with a few strands of it sticking to her face that was now filled with dried tears.

She tried to answer but found the words caught in her throat, a mix of relief and weakness taking over

 She nodded

“Come on,” he said, guiding her out of the club. They reached a quiet hotel, and he helped her into a room.

As he was about to go, she held his arm, her blurry vision giving off a look of desperation.

"Don't go. Stay. Please."

Due to how intoxicated she was, she could not make out what happened.

All she could remember was his lips on hers, and his strong arms wrapping around her fragile frame, the warmth of his body beside hers.

 She remembered clinging to him, letting the pain and bitterness melt away in his arms, finding peace with the little opportunity she had.

When Vivian woke the next morning, her head throbbed as she looked around, trying to remember where she was or what happened. 

She sat up, feeling a sharp pain around her abdomen. She looked down at herself and realized that she had no clothes on.

As she tried to recall what happened last night, there were only flashes of them, and she could not make out his face.

Panic flashed through her as pieces of the previous night resurfaced in her mind, and she cursed herself silently for sleeping with a stranger. 

She had not meant for any of this to happen. She had only wanted to drink away her sorrows.

Vivian quickly gathered her things, dressing quietly as she let out a frustrating sigh. 

She knew she would never see him again, but a part of her felt a tinge of regret. 

There was nothing left for her here anymore, and with that, she left the hotel, thinking of what to do next.

She could not stay here. Not in this place that held nothing but memories of a failed marriage and a broken heart. 

She planned to leave and start fresh somewhere else, far away from her ugly past life. There was nothing left for her here.

Absolutely nothing.

Vivian began to make her preparations, liquidating what little assets she had left, and arranging for a ticket to a far-off country. 

She ignored the emails from her husband’s lawyer and the messages from people who only wanted to mock her. None of it mattered anymore. She would start over and build a new life on her terms.