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Chapter 21 - Broken Silence
Last Updated:
2025-05-01 21:56:58
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Vienna’s POVThe morning light crept through the blinds as I sat up slowly in bed, rubbing the dull ache behind my eyes. I hadn’t slept much. Maybe an hour here, another there—none of it restful. The mattress beside me was cold. Empty.Again.I got up and wrapped my robe around me. My limbs felt heavy, my chest even more so. The echoes of last night’s argument still played through my mind like a cruel loop. Warren had thrown words at me he couldn’t take back. Words that lodged deep and left bruises.I padded into the kitchen barefoot, already feeling the familiar swirl of nausea rise. I poured myself a cup of ginger tea, hoping it would settle things.The house was unusually quiet—eerily so.No Warren. No Desiree.I checked the living room. Empty. Her blanket from the sofa had been folded, which meant she’d either cleaned up after herself or someone had done it for her.I leaned against the kitchen island, sipping my tea, trying not to overthink. At least Warren had come back to bed
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Vienna’s POV"Since when are you so uptight, Warren?" Desiree said as she dipped into yet another exaggerated stretch, bending low enough to flash her cleavage straight through the mirror. "Must be her influence," she added, glancing at me upside-down from between her legs with a smirk.I scoffed, turning away from the show.The sheer absurdity of it all would’ve been laughable if it hadn’t been happening in my own home. With my husband. A performance of manipulation in leotards.I paced away through the long hallway, back to the kitchen.I heard Warren mutter something faint—"Desiree, you need to stop this..."—but I didn’t stay to hear more. I didn’t want another half-hearted defense made for my benefit. I was done having her in my house. Done with her petty games.I busied myself in the kitchen. I made a simple breakfast—toast, a soft-boiled egg, and fruit. I prepped a lunch box for Warren, packing in a fresh scone and a sandwich.As I was heading upstairs to change for work, I pas
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Vienna’s POVThe first thing I became aware of was the beeping. Soft, rhythmic. Then the sterile scent of antiseptic, and finally—the ache.I blinked slowly, my eyes adjusting to the bright hospital ceiling above me. The light was harsh, cold. The room smelled clean. Too clean. Lifeless."V?" a familiar voice gasped. "Oh my God, you’re awake!"Bella’s face filled my blurry vision. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days. Her eyes were red, her lipstick smudged, hair pulled back in a hasty ponytail. She reached for my hand and squeezed it tightly."The baby’s okay," she said quickly, as if she needed to say it before I could ask. "They said you inhaled too much smoke, but the baby’s heartbeat is strong."Relief surged through me, then immediately twisted into something heavier. Guilt, confusion… defeat.Bella's relief quickly gave way to anger. "Why didn’t you tell me?" she asked, voice cracking. "You’ve been pregnant and hiding it from me? From everyone?""I—" I tried to speak, but
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Vienna’s POV"I’m so sorry, Vienna," Warren said, gripping my hand so hard it almost hurt. His voice trembled with urgency. Desperation. But I felt nothing stir in me—not rage, not relief. Just an eerie sort of quiet."Listen, V, I can explain," he said quickly. "I swear. It’s not what it seems.""Then what is it, Warren?" I asked quietly."It’s simple, really," he rambled, drops of sweat forming on his brow. "I was showing Desiree around the hotel when the front desk radioed in—this tour group showed up way too early. One hundred people. It was chaos."He paused, watching me as if waiting for a reaction. I met his gaze with a blank stare."You see, I had to step in and sort it all out," he continued. "And somewhere in the middle of all that, my phone must’ve ended up in Desiree’s bag. I didn’t even know until the group was all settled and I returned to the office."He looked at me, like that explanation should make everything okay.I stared at him, my face still unreadable. His clamm
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Vienna’s POVWarren's mouth opened, but no sound came out. His eyes were wide, disbelieving. He staggered back, as if the word "divorce" had physically knocked him in the chest. Then, slowly, he sank into the chair beside the hospital bed."Vienna..."His voice barely made it above a whisper. He looked at me, searching for something—a sign that I was bluffing, that I didn't mean it. That this was some emotional fluke he could reason with."A-are you serious?"The pain in his eyes nearly made me cave. Vulnerable, pleading, raw. But I couldn't let it sway me.I knew this was going to be hard. For both of us."You don’t love me anymore," I said, my voice low but steady. "Not the way you used to. I can’t keep going in this loop, Warren—defending myself in my own home, competing for space in my own marriage, trying to read between the lines of what you really feel…"He flinched like my words had slapped him."That’s not true," he said, his voice hoarse. "I—I do love you.""Then why is it
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Vienna’s POV"Long night, V?" my best friend Bella asked, side-eyeing me as I smothered a yawn with the back of my hand. She was also my only employee at the bakery I owned—a dream made possible by Warren's sponsorship.We were restocking the shelves with fresh croissants, but my body felt like it was running on empty."Yeah…" I hesitated, watching her line up a tray of croissants. "Warren didn’t come home last night. Desiree was in the hospital."Bella’s hands froze. "Oh…" Her voice softened. "Is she okay?""She had a miscarriage." My voice came out flatter than I intended. I wasn't sure what emotion I was even supposed to feel—sadness? Suspicion?"That’s terrible." Bella frowned and bit her lip, as if debating something. She didn’t speak right away, and the silence between us grew heavier by the minute."What is it, Bell?" I asked, studying her face.She hesitated, then cleared her throat. "I, uh… I saw Warren and Desiree together at a jewelry store last week. They seemed really clo
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Vienna’s POVWarren's mouth opened, but no sound came out. His eyes were wide, disbelieving. He staggered back, as if the word "divorce" had physically knocked him in the chest. Then, slowly, he sank into the chair beside the hospital bed."Vienna..."His voice barely made it above a whisper. He looked at me, searching for something—a sign that I was bluffing, that I didn't mean it. That this was some emotional fluke he could reason with."A-are you serious?"The pain in his eyes nearly made me cave. Vulnerable, pleading, raw. But I couldn't let it sway me.I knew this was going to be hard. For both of us."You don’t love me anymore," I said, my voice low but steady. "Not the way you used to. I can’t keep going in this loop, Warren—defending myself in my own home, competing for space in my own marriage, trying to read between the lines of what you really feel…"He flinched like my words had slapped him."That’s not true," he said, his voice hoarse. "I—I do love you.""Then why is it
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Vienna’s POV"I’m so sorry, Vienna," Warren said, gripping my hand so hard it almost hurt. His voice trembled with urgency. Desperation. But I felt nothing stir in me—not rage, not relief. Just an eerie sort of quiet."Listen, V, I can explain," he said quickly. "I swear. It’s not what it seems.""Then what is it, Warren?" I asked quietly."It’s simple, really," he rambled, drops of sweat forming on his brow. "I was showing Desiree around the hotel when the front desk radioed in—this tour group showed up way too early. One hundred people. It was chaos."He paused, watching me as if waiting for a reaction. I met his gaze with a blank stare."You see, I had to step in and sort it all out," he continued. "And somewhere in the middle of all that, my phone must’ve ended up in Desiree’s bag. I didn’t even know until the group was all settled and I returned to the office."He looked at me, like that explanation should make everything okay.I stared at him, my face still unreadable. His clamm
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Vienna’s POVThe first thing I became aware of was the beeping. Soft, rhythmic. Then the sterile scent of antiseptic, and finally—the ache.I blinked slowly, my eyes adjusting to the bright hospital ceiling above me. The light was harsh, cold. The room smelled clean. Too clean. Lifeless."V?" a familiar voice gasped. "Oh my God, you’re awake!"Bella’s face filled my blurry vision. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days. Her eyes were red, her lipstick smudged, hair pulled back in a hasty ponytail. She reached for my hand and squeezed it tightly."The baby’s okay," she said quickly, as if she needed to say it before I could ask. "They said you inhaled too much smoke, but the baby’s heartbeat is strong."Relief surged through me, then immediately twisted into something heavier. Guilt, confusion… defeat.Bella's relief quickly gave way to anger. "Why didn’t you tell me?" she asked, voice cracking. "You’ve been pregnant and hiding it from me? From everyone?""I—" I tried to speak, but
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Vienna’s POV"Since when are you so uptight, Warren?" Desiree said as she dipped into yet another exaggerated stretch, bending low enough to flash her cleavage straight through the mirror. "Must be her influence," she added, glancing at me upside-down from between her legs with a smirk.I scoffed, turning away from the show.The sheer absurdity of it all would’ve been laughable if it hadn’t been happening in my own home. With my husband. A performance of manipulation in leotards.I paced away through the long hallway, back to the kitchen.I heard Warren mutter something faint—"Desiree, you need to stop this..."—but I didn’t stay to hear more. I didn’t want another half-hearted defense made for my benefit. I was done having her in my house. Done with her petty games.I busied myself in the kitchen. I made a simple breakfast—toast, a soft-boiled egg, and fruit. I prepped a lunch box for Warren, packing in a fresh scone and a sandwich.As I was heading upstairs to change for work, I pas
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Vienna’s POVThe morning light crept through the blinds as I sat up slowly in bed, rubbing the dull ache behind my eyes. I hadn’t slept much. Maybe an hour here, another there—none of it restful. The mattress beside me was cold. Empty.Again.I got up and wrapped my robe around me. My limbs felt heavy, my chest even more so. The echoes of last night’s argument still played through my mind like a cruel loop. Warren had thrown words at me he couldn’t take back. Words that lodged deep and left bruises.I padded into the kitchen barefoot, already feeling the familiar swirl of nausea rise. I poured myself a cup of ginger tea, hoping it would settle things.The house was unusually quiet—eerily so.No Warren. No Desiree.I checked the living room. Empty. Her blanket from the sofa had been folded, which meant she’d either cleaned up after herself or someone had done it for her.I leaned against the kitchen island, sipping my tea, trying not to overthink. At least Warren had come back to bed
Regretful Heart: CEO's Tears Over Her Pregnancy Chapter 21 - Broken Silence
Vienna’s POVI shot up in bed, yanking the sheets with me.“Are you kidding me?”Warren stayed where he was, arms crossed over his bare chest, jaw tight. “I saw the way you looked at him, Vienna.”My breath caught. “You’re really going there right now?”“The way you smiled. How soft your voice got. You don’t talk to me like that anymore.”“This is ridiculous,” I said, pushing my hair back with both hands. My heart was pounding. “Fred? This has nothing to do with Fred.”“Oh no?” Warren scoffed.“This is about you. And me. And everything you keep sweeping under the rug. You want to pretend it’s some stranger that’s changed things between us, but the truth is, you’ve been distant for weeks. Long before tonight.”His jaw clenched again. “It’s too much of a convenience, Vienna. This mystery man shows up, and suddenly you want nothing to do with me.”“It has nothing to do with Fred, Warren,” I shot back. “It has everything to do with your precious stepsister. You’re always there for her. But
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Vienna’s POVA heavy silence stretched between us. Until Desiree’s giggle broke it.“All the guys at the club tried to get into my pants. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t rescued me, big brother,” she slurred from the couch. I rolled my eyes. Seriously?“You’re always there to save me…” Her voice was soft, dramatic, full of false sweetness. “Always…”She trailed off mid-sentence, snoring softly a moment later. She laid there, passed out on the sofa with one leg hanging over the edge.I shot Warren a look—half skepticism, half exhaustion.He avoided my eyes, carefully draping a blanket over her body as if tucking in a child. Then he stood and gestured silently for me to follow him.We walked into the kitchen. As soon as the door closed behind us, he started.“I’m tired of this, Vienna,” he whispered harshly. “Tired of always being under your microscope. Of your constant suspicion.”I folded my arms. “You left me in the theater. Alone. For someone who didn’t need you. S
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Vienna’s POVAs the theater lights brightened, I wiped beneath my eyes with a tissue. At least my new mascara actually lived up to its waterproof promise. Small victories.In the distance, I spotted Bella waving gently, concern etched across her face. I raised my hand in a half-hearted wave.The crowd trickled out slowly, discussing their favorite scenes—moments I had completely missed. I just sat there, until Bella made her way toward me with James quietly in tow.James lingered a polite distance away while Bella slipped her arm around my shoulder, leaning in close.“Are you okay, V?” she asked softly.I didn’t sugarcoat it. “I’ve been better.”Bella studied my face, reading more than I said. “Do you want to grab a late-night snack? Might help you decompress a little.”I shook my head. “Thanks, but I think I just want to go home and crawl into bed.”Bella sighed, then gave me a warm hug. “Take care of yourself, Vienna. Seriously. You deserve only the best.”I gave her a watery smile.
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Vienna’s POV“Warren…” I reached out instinctively. My fingers caught the sleeve of his blazer just as he turned to leave.“Wait,” I said, more desperate than I meant to sound. “Can’t her friends just put her in a taxi and send her home? To her parents? That’s where she belongs, Warren. Not with us. Not with you.”He pulled his arm free—not harshly, but firmly. “Her friends?” he scoffed. “You think I’d trust them with her life? Half of them are drunk themselves, the other half are just there for selfies and free drinks. I’m not leaving her in their hands.”His tone made me bristle. “Why are you always defending her like she’s helpless? Like she doesn’t know exactly what she’s doing?” I tried to reason with him, “She’s an adult, Warren. She’ll never learn to take responsibility if you keep saving her.”He exhaled sharply, frustrated. “Why are you always so harsh with her? If this were your sister—if you had one—would you be this cold?”That one cut deep.“Can’t you see what she’s doin
