All Chapters of Left at the alter, married the enemy : Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Chapter 46: Worth ItNine on a Thursday. Vivian in the foyer with a duffel bag, her phone buzzing against her palm. She held the bag like it was an exit.“He’s doing it again,” she said. Not a preamble. Just—this is the thing. "That thing where he doesn't actually say anything but somehow you're supposed to know you fucked up."I took the bag from her shoulder. It was heavy. She packed for longer than a night. I didn’t ask questions."Come on. You're staying." I said.“I don’t want to be that person he’s making me to look like,” she says as she follows me inside.She took off her heels as she walked through the door, sending them across the marble floor. She just looks tired. "The person who shows up because her boyfriend is being a moody asshole.""You're not." I said while placing her bag by the stairs. “You’re the person who finally got tired of putting up with his nonsense.”Vivian’s laugh died fast. She dropped onto the couch, tossed her phone beside her. It buzzed. Again. She

Chapter 47: What Vivian Didn’t SayI woke up to sunlight and the specific warmth of someone else in the bed.Not surprising. That part was easy to explain. What was surprising was the particular quality of it — the way my body knew, before my mind caught up, that Sebastian was still there. That he hadn’t moved. That this morning existed in a completely different category from every morning that had come before it.I kept my eyes closed for a moment and thought about that.The kitchen clock had said 11:47 when we’d finally stopped touching each other. The kind of number that doesn’t apologize for itself. There had been talking — some of it, not all of it, because talking felt like it might break something that hadn’t fully formed yet. Instead there had been the particular quiet of two people who had moved into new territory and were still deciding what to do with the space between them.He held my hand.That was the thing I kept returning to. Not the sex itself — though that had been e

"Three years," Vivian said. "Three years of fake messages and fake photographs and me slowly, gradually accepting that Marcus was alive but didn't want to be in my life. That he'd seen something, or done something, and he'd decided to disappear rather than face it." She laughed — a short, bitter sound. "Derek was very careful. The messages were never too frequent, never too personal. They were generic enough that they could apply to anyone, specific enough that they sounded like Marcus. He created just enough contact to keep me from worrying but not enough to make me suspicious.""What changed," I said.Vivian turned away from the window. Her face was very pale."Last night," she said. "Right before I came to meet you, I got a message from Marcus. Derek must have created it weeks ago, had it scheduled to send automatically. But something was wrong with it. The phrasing was off. It was Derek trying to sound like Marcus, but it was Derek underneath it, you know? The way he would constru

Chapter 50: What Derek WantsThe coffee cup was still on the table, half-full and long cold. I couldn’t stop looking at it. Like watching it hard enough might change something. Like Derek might walk back through that kitchen door any second.Vivian’s phone was in her hands. Flipping it over. Pressing it face-down against her leg. Picking it back up again.“We should call Nolan,” she said.“No.”“He’s your father. He’s—”“He’s exactly why Derek thinks he can do this.” Sebastian’s voice cracked. “He said he was out. He promised—”“What if Derek’s lying about Nolan?” I said.They both looked at me.Sebastian went still. Then he sat down.“What if he came here saying Nolan sent him, but Nolan doesn’t even know he’s here?”“That’s—” Vivian started.“If we believe Nolan’s still involved, Derek’s safe.” I was working through it as I spoke. “He’s not alone. He’s just the message.”“So he tells us Nolan sent him to keep us from touching him,” Sebastian said slowly.“Right.”“But if Nolan doesn

Chapter 52: Forty-Eight HoursAround eleven, Vivian’s phone rang. Her mother.She stared at it. The screen was bright in the darkness, harsh on her face.It rang again.“You should answer that,” I said.“And tell her what? That I’m fine? That I’m safe and everything’s normal?” She laughed—harsh, wrong. “That she doesn’t need to worry?”The call dropped. Voicemail. Then it started again immediately.“She won’t stop,” Vivian said. “She’ll keep calling until I pick up or she decides I’m at a specific location and drives there.”“Then pick up.”“And do what? Give Nolan her name? Make my mother real to him? Give him one more thing to use?”She was right. She was definitely right. I knew she was right the second she said it.Sebastian was still in the kitchen. From the kitchen, more cabinet doors opened and closed. Different cabinets. Like he’d forgotten what he was looking for.“I keep seeing the video,” Vivian said quietly. “I don’t even know if it’s real anymore or just what Derek said