Laura sat on her plush couch, her phone in hand, anxiously typing out a series of messages to Vivian:
"Vivian, where are you, dear?"
"You said you'd see me at 6."
"Is everything okay, Vivian?"
"Why aren't you responding to me?"
As she sent the last message, Laura's lips curled into a knowing smile. There was something unsettlingly calculated about the way she crafted each word, as if she was more interested in provoking a response than genuinely seeking one. She slipped her phone onto the coffee table and let out a soft chuckle, amused by a secret only she knew, something she was carefully planning.
---
In a dimly lit, cozy café, the quiet murmur of conversations was occasionally interrupted by the soft moans of a child sleeping peacefully in Vivian's arms. The dim light above cast a gentle glow over Vivian's face, highlighting the delicate way she cradled the child, as though the little girl were made of the finest, most fragile glass.
Max sat across from her, his eyes involuntarily drifting to Vivian, who seemed entirely engrossed in the child. The sight stirred something deep within him—a mix of admiration and an unspoken longing.
After what felt like an eternity of silence, Max finally broke it, his voice tentative. "Are you married?"
Vivian's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing with a look that needed no explanation. It was the kind of look that conveyed awkwardness.
"This is your first question after all these years?" she asked, her voice low, almost non audible.
Max hesitated, feeling a bit foolish. "Well, I guess you're not married... That's good, that's good," he added while stroking his legs, with a hint of relief yet calmlessness, that he couldn't quite hide.
Vivian remained focused on the child, her fingers gently stroking the girl's silky black hair. "Your daughter is beautiful," she said, with a warm softness.
Max's face shifted from confusion to understanding, and then to a kind of resigned acceptance. "My daughter?" he echoed, staring at Vivian as if waiting for some acknowledgment of the truth he was about to share. He leaned back in his chair, a small, sad smile playing on his lips. I am not married Vivian, he replied.
Then this kid she looked crossed and confused.
Max laughed at this, "Noo.. Stopp… I know what you are thinking, No she is not my illegitimate child either"
He laughed again but that soon turned to a calm revelation, "Ava is my adopted daughter. I rescued her from a car accident."
Vivian looked up, her expression changing as she realized the depth of the situation. "Her parents..." she began, her voice trailing off as her thoughts overwhelmed her.
Max's eyes softened as he watched Ava. "They both died in the crash," he said quietly, his voice tinged with the weight of the memory. "I was the only one there to take her in. I was there when it happened... Her father handed her to me in his last moments. I will never forget that day." His face down
As Vivian's eyes moved from Max to the sleeping child in her arms, she unconsciously tightened her hold on the girl. She was drawn into a moment of vulnerability, her maternal instincts flaring up despite the walls she'd built around her heart.
As max looked up to , he was caught up vivian's innocent beauty... He looked from her face to the sleeping Ava... he held his chin...and mumbled to himself, i think i know why she called her mother ... you are tooo similar...
A whisper too loud to be a whisper, this sudden statement took vivian by surprise and she looked up at Max and then to the sleeping child...
She raised her head up…now where did this come from she looked astounded... holding the kid even tighter without realizing... max saw that... and his heart told him to go for what he knew they both wanted...
"Vivian…," Max said solmenly moving forward, his hand folded in front of him... his eyes very clear of what he was going to do... A gamble he wanted to play, to see the world that holds his heart, cradling the world that fills his soul…
"Vivian," he began.
Vivian moved back on her chair, child still in her arms... her eyes clearly saying, "NO!... Don't ask me"
"Vivian, i dont know if you will belive me, but as I saw you before me, my heart trembled with vulnerability. I know after a journey of twists and turns, life's most precious moments are the ones we share with our loved one and i know this is not the case for you, but i also know that you yearn to give the love that you yourself couldn't receive...
Vivian...This girl, who lies in your arms, with a smile that lights up my world, deserves to be loved, nurtured, and cherished.
Vivian's breath caught in her throat, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts, but she remained silent, her eyes locked on the child's peaceful face.
"I want to be the safe anchor where she can grow, explore, and flourish." He continues.
"I want to be the rock that supports her, the guiding light house that illuminates her path, and the gentle breeze that soothes her soul. Vivian, I know it's been a long time coming, but as i sit before you and see you, i can't imagine anyone else to take this position with me to witness her growth, her laughter, and her tears.
Will you be the final piece in our disheveled puzzle?"
Vivian was struck silent, motionless as if the world had stopped spinning. She was lost in a whirlwind of emotions, unable to process the weight of what Max had just proposed. She felt the walls of her carefully constructed life beginning to crack, exposing her to a flood of feelings she wasn't prepared to handle.
Max watched her, his heart pounding with anticipation, fear, and hope all at once. His shoulders were stiff, his jaw clenched, his eyes pleading for an answer, as he awaited her response.
"Look! I know it's confusing, but the summary of this all is…"
He whispered again, his voice barely audible yet charged with emotion, like a gentle gust of air sweeping through her ears that was soft enough to soothe her soul yet powerful enough to shatter her entire composure…
"Vivian…"
"Will you be her mother?"
Vivian felt her hair stand up and her own body run cold, her eyes getting teary, sensing the depth of the situation."
Suddenly, Vivian stood up, clutching the child tightly to her chest. She turned away, her steps quick and determined, heading towards the exit without a word.
"Vivian!" Max called out, his voice urgent, filled with concern. He rushed after her, catching up just as she reached the door. He stepped in front of her, forcing her to stop abruptly.
"Where are you going with our daughter?" Max asked, his tone light and humorous, as he bent down to meet her gaze, his eyes sparkling with amusement, looking into hers with a warm smile, as if he already knew the answer, and was simply waiting for her to realize it too.
"OUR!?"
Vivian's blank stare slowly shifted as she processed his words. The realization of what she was doing hit her like a ton of bricks. She had unconsciously tried to take the child away, as if fleeing from the reality she couldn't face. Embarrassment flooded her as she looked down at the sleeping girl in her arms.
"I... I'm sorry," she stammered, a shaky smile breaking through her emotional turmoil. She carefully handed the child back to Max, who took her with a reassuring smile.
Alas, her body knew what it yearned for, but her mind remained uncertain…
"I was in a hurry," she said gently, trying to ease the tension.
"Yes, yes, you are," Max muttered, playing along with her.
"I didn't realize..." She continued.
"Yes, yes I understand it can happen" he said while holding his laugh.
"You can take Ava if you wish," Max offered teasingly, "She likes you, and I don't think she'd mind staying with you for a while."
"No... not the kid," Vivian blurted out, backing away as if the very idea was too much for her to handle. She shook her head vigorously, her hands raised in a gesture of refusal.
Max watched her, a mixture of hope and understanding in his eyes. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, extending it towards her. "Here, take this," he said softly.
Vivian hesitated for a moment before taking the card and slipping it into her purse. Without another word, she turned and rushed towards the exit, the sound of her hurried footsteps echoing in the quiet café, and the weight of her grocery weighing her down, don't know if it was the weight of her dejected heart or grocery.
As she pushed through the door and stepped out into the cold air, her thoughts were a chaotic swirl of emotions. Her subconscious mind battled fiercely with her conscious self, a war between her deep-seated guilt and her undeniable yearning for motherhood.
"A murderer doesn't deserve to be a mother," she whispered to herself as she walked away. "I don't deserve to be a mother..."
But as much as she tried to convince herself of this, the image of the sleeping child in her arms lingered in her mind, refusing to let her go.