Chapter 33

The gala finally wound down, and the Blackwood family made their exit as a united front. Reginald led the way, with Vivi on his arm and Damien trailing behind with Ava. The ride home was filled with stilted small talk and uncomfortable silences.

Once they arrived at the mansion, Vivi excused herself quickly, citing fatigue. She retreated to her room, closing the door behind her with a sigh of relief. Kicking off her heels, she sank onto the plush bed and reached for her phone.

Her fingers hovered over her mother's contact for a moment before she hit dial. The phone rang twice before her mother's warm voice filled the line.

"Vivi, darling! How are you?"

Vivi felt a lump form in her throat at the familiar sound. "Hi, Mom. I'm... I'm okay. How are things at home?"

There was a pause before her mother replied, "We're doing better, sweetheart. Your father's business is slowly recovering. The loan from Reginald has been a lifesaver."

Vivi closed her eyes, reminding herself why she had agreed to this arrangement. "That's good to hear. I'm glad I could help."

"Oh, Vivi," her mother's voice softened. "I know this isn't easy for you. Are you truly alright?"

For a moment, Vivi considered unloading all her conflicted feelings - her growing attraction to Damien, the suffocating nature of her marriage to Reginald, the constant pressure to maintain appearances. But she held back, not wanting to burden her mother with more worry.

"I'm fine, Mom. Really. It's just... an adjustment," Vivi said, forcing a cheerful tone into her voice. "How's Dad doing?"

As her mother launched into an update about her father's health and their neighbors, Vivi let the familiar chatter wash over her. She lay back on the bed, phone pressed to her ear, taking comfort in this small connection to her old life.

Vivi ended the call with her mother, feeling a mix of relief and guilt. She'd managed to keep her tone light, avoiding any hint of the turmoil churning inside her. With a heavy sigh, she placed her phone on the nightstand and stared up at the ornate ceiling.

The events of the evening replayed in her mind. The forced smiles, the polite small talk, the way Damien had kept his distance, his attention focused solely on Ava. Vivi's stomach twisted at the memory of Ava's possessive touches and knowing smirks.

She rolled onto her side, hugging a pillow to her chest. The silk of her gown rustled against the sheets, a reminder of the life she now led. A life of luxury and appearances, but devoid of the warmth and love she craved.

Vivi's thoughts drifted to her family. The relief in her mother's voice when speaking of their improved financial situation made her question her doubts. Wasn't this exactly why she'd agreed to marry Reginald? To secure her family's future?

But the cost seemed higher with each passing day. The stolen moments with Damien had awakened something in her, a longing for passion and connection that her marriage to Reginald could never fulfill. Yet she'd pushed Damien away, choosing duty over desire.

Restless, Vivi rose from the bed and moved to the window. The moonlight cast long shadows across the manicured lawn. She pressed her forehead against the cool glass, closing her eyes.

In that quiet moment, Vivi allowed herself to imagine a different life. One where she wasn't trapped by obligation, where she could follow her heart without fear of consequences. But as quickly as the fantasy formed, she pushed it away. This was her reality now, and she had to find a way to live with her choices.

Vivi took a deep breath, steeling herself for the decision she was about to make. She'd been teetering on the edge for too long, caught between duty and desire. It was time to commit fully to her role as Mrs. Blackwood.

She moved away from the window and sat at her vanity, studying her reflection. The woman staring back at her looked tired, conflicted. But beneath that, Vivi saw strength. She'd made a choice to marry Reginald for her family's sake, and now she needed to honor that commitment.

Picking up a brush, she began to smooth her hair, each stroke a deliberate act of self-discipline. She thought about Reginald - his power, his influence, the security he provided. He wasn't a bad man, just... different from what she'd imagined for herself. Maybe, she mused, she could learn to appreciate him more.

As for Damien... Vivi's hand faltered for a moment. She forced herself to continue brushing, pushing thoughts of passionate encounters and stolen glances aside. He was her stepson now, nothing more. She'd treat him with the polite distance that role demanded.

Vivi stood, squaring her shoulders. She would throw herself into being the perfect wife and hostess. She'd support Reginald's business endeavors, charm his associates, and make this mansion a home. It wouldn't be the life she'd dreamed of, but it would be a life of purpose.

Tomorrow, she decided, she'd start fresh. No more longing looks or conflicted feelings. She'd be Mrs. Blackwood in every sense of the word. And maybe, just maybe, if she committed herself fully to this path, she'd find a different kind of happiness along the way.

Vivi woke the next morning with a renewed sense of purpose. She dressed carefully, selecting a tailored suit that exuded confidence and sophistication. As she applied her makeup, she rehearsed her new mantra in her mind: "I am Mrs. Blackwood. This is my life now."

She made her way downstairs, her heels clicking against the marble floors. The sound echoed through the vast hallways, reminding her of the grandeur she now called home. It was a far cry from her modest upbringing, but she was determined to embrace it fully.

In the dining room, she found Reginald already seated at the table, newspaper in hand. Vivi approached him with a warm smile.

"Good morning, darling," she said, leaning down to place a kiss on his cheek.

Reginald looked up, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Good morning, Vivian. You're looking lovely today."

As she took her seat, Vivi felt a small thrill of satisfaction. This was a good start.

Throughout breakfast, she engaged Reginald in conversation, asking about his plans for the day and offering her thoughts on a business matter he mentioned. It felt strange at first, like trying on a new skin, but as the minutes ticked by, Vivi found herself settling into the role.

'This isn't so bad,' she thought to herself. 'I can do this. I can be the wife Reginald needs and the daughter my family deserves.'

When Damien entered the room, Vivi's heart skipped a beat. She forced herself to remain calm, greeting him with a polite nod. "Good morning, Damien. I hope you slept well."

He looked at her quizzically, clearly thrown by her composed demeanor. "Morning," he muttered, before grabbing a piece of toast and heading out.

As he left, Vivi felt a pang of regret, quickly followed by a surge of determination. 'This is how it needs to be,' she reminded herself. 'Clean breaks heal fastest.'