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“There’s nothing to pick up,” Vivian said, growing agitated. “It’s all gone, Mom. Everything I had has either been sold or returned to Andrew. All I own is downstairs in my car.”
“Oh, you poor thing. Andrew really did put you through the mill, didn’t he?”
Vivian nodded, fighting against her thoughts that kept trying to revisit a time best left forgotten.
“Have you considered talking to him?” her mother consoled.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because Andrew loves you.”
“The only person Andrew loves is himself.”
“Oh, I don’t believe that,” her mother scoffed. Vivian felt herself begin to pull away. This was what she had been afraid of, what she’d expected. “Andrew can be a difficult man, but what man isn’t? He made a mistake.”
“He hurt me. He betrayed me.”
“Yes, and that’s unfortunate,” she agreed, trying her best to appear understanding. Reaching over, she cupped Vivian’s knee, the fat cluster of diamonds sitting on her wedding finger blinding in the sunlight. “But Andrew is a good man, and he’s sorry for what he did. If you could just sit down and talk to him—”
Vivian bolted to her feet. “I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want anything to do with him. He’s an asshole!”
“Vivian, language, please,” her mother gasped, truly offended. She’d always liked to pretend that she was so refined that cursing was beneath her and for anyone else to do it scandalized her.
“Oh, please, Mother,” Vivian sneered, “get over it.” Approaching the balcony’s railing, she stared out over the clusters of tall buildings and the crisscrossing map of roads that seemed to undulate with constantly moving traffic. “I know you and Dad want what’s best for me, but you’re going to have to trust that I know what that is. Andrew is in my past now. I’ve moved on.”
“To what?” her mother asked, her tone changing so completely, Vivian turned. In place of offense, her mother wore the hard, stern mask Vivian was most familiar with. “That cowboy you met in Nowheresville?”
So theyhadbeen tracking her. “No, he and I are over.”
“Good. He and that whole town are beneath you. You need—”
“What I need is for everyone to stop trying to dictate my life,” Vivian cut her off.
“Fine.” Her mother crossed her arms over her chest. “Then what, pray tell, are you planning?”
“I don’t know yet. Maybe drive south, explore a little.”
“You don’t even know where you’re going?”
“I’ll know when I get there.” For the first time, Vivian was confident in her words and herself. She would know. When she reached her final destination, the place that was right for her, she would feel it.
“This is ridiculous.”
The only thing that was ridiculous was entertaining the idea of going back to a life that didn’t make her happy. “Think what you will, Mom, but this is my life, and I’m going to run it my way. You’ll just have to accept that.”
She was met with a look of irritation, but Vivian found she didn’t mind, nor did she have an urge to do whatever her mother wanted just to make it go away. This time, she was going to live her life by her own rules, no matter what anyone had to say about it.
TWENTY-THREE
Mark Martin, the bloodsucking lawyer she’d hired, pushed a couple of papers across the desk and held out a pen.
“I just need your John Hancock and initials on all of the highlighted areas.”
Vivian had called him the moment she’d settled into the guest room and refused to be put off, insisting on coming in the following morning. Since it was just a matter of signatures, Martin hadn’t been in much of a position to refuse. Besides, he was in it for the money, and she was paying. Win-win for both of them.
Vivian scribbled her name and initials in all the appropriate places, her smile growing with each line filled. “I can’t believe I forgot to do this before.”
“Minor oversight. I would have tried to contact you, but you couldn’t be reached.”
