The very thought of it put wind in her sails and she ran like she had never run before. Vivian had no idea for how long she kept at it, but she seemed to finally lose them.
Hunched over and taking in deep drawls, she glanced occasionally over her shoulders. It was only after she had ascertained that she had thrown them off that she was finally able to let her guard down.
As soon as she recovered, Vivian pulled out her phone with intention of calling Finnick to demand he explain why he did what he did.
Her eyes burned with fury as she dialed his number as she was working through her mind on how she was going to castigate him. He had gone too far, and he should expect no forgiveness from her this time.
For some reason, no one picked up even after a lengthy wait. Vivian cancelled and retried several times to the same effect.
Was he avoiding her calls now? Vivian resisted the urge to hurl her phone. When she thought about it, she figured that he must have gone and hidden himself after Noah reported her escape.
She stood by the road to simmer down before she hailed a cab.
He had to be home eventually. And when he did, she would be there waiting. This time, she would impress upon him that they would divorce if he could not accept the child. There was no need for him to resort to any more of these despicable means.
Vivian could not care too much about the injuries on her legs during her escape. She quickly made her way toward the house the minute she arrived, hell bent on confronting him should he be home already.
Never did she expect to find a pair of heels upon opening the door. Those looked awfully familiar. She worked through her memories and recollected having seen Evelyn wearing a pair just like this.
Is Evelyn in the house? What is she doing here?
Mystified, Vivian strode right through the doors. The sight that greeted her left her rooted to the spot.
Is she hallucinating? What was that strewn across the floor? Vivian’s gaze followed the trail created by the stockings, shorts, a blouse amongst other articles of clothing which ended with some women’s undergarments upon the stairs closest to the bedroom.
Whose clothing are these? Are they Evelyn’s? Where’s Finnick?
Vivian teetered on her feet as she pondered these questions. The room felt like it was spinning around her and her vision momentarily flirted with darkness.
Very quickly, she closed her eyes and kept them shut tight for some time while she steadied herself.
Inside, she prayed that these were just imaginings created when her anger messed with her head. They would disappear as soon as she reopened her eyes.
That was how she comforted herself before she slowly but surely did. However, nothing has changed. The clothing remained exactly where she found them.
She felt her body quiver when she raised her head toward the bedroom on the second floor. Could Finnick and Evelyn be convening inside? She refused to consider this but could not stop this notion from festering.
With great difficulty, she dragged herself toward the bedroom. One step after the other, Vivian had never felt her strides this heavy before.
As she edged closer and closer, she could already hear muffled voices emanating from within. Unwilling to get nearer still, her subconsciousness screamed for her to turn around. She shuddered to picture how she would react should she actually find them in there.
Her legs were seemingly defiant as it brought her ever closer to the bedroom against her will.
When she was finally in front of the door, she found it ajar. The sounds of a woman’s sensual moans melded with a man’s husky grunts were picked up by her ears with clarity.
“Haha… you’re so good, Finnick… Ah.. Ah.. No… Stop it… Finnick…” The woman’s voice pierced like needles upon Vivian’s heart. Was that familiar voice not that of Evelyn’s?
