Sanvi quickly wiped her tears, a smile breaking through. "Nothing's wrong," she reassured Vivian. "I'm just so happy to have you here with me. You're an amazing friend, Vivian, and you're going to be the perfect godmother to my child."
Vivian's heart swelled with emotion, a wide grin spreading across her face. "I will," she promised, her voice firm with conviction.
Their moment was interrupted by Sohan's cheerful voice calling from the dining area. "Sorry to break up your beautiful moment, but dinner is ready!" he announced, gesturing to the lavish spread he had prepared. "Dig in, girls."
As they made their way to the dining room, the aroma of garlic and herbs wafted through the air, wrapping them in a comforting embrace. The table was a feast for them both, as Sohan showed off his impressive culinary skills.
The evening passed in a blur of laughter, stories, and delicious food. Vivian and Sanvi reveled in the warmth of the moment, their earlier tensions forgotten as they celebrated this new chapter in Sanvi's life. The sound of clinking glasses and cheerful banter filled the room, creating an atmosphere of pure joy.
"To new beginnings," Sanvi toasted with orange juice, raising her glass.
"To my godchild," Vivian added, her voice full of warmth as she clinked her wine glass against Sanvi's.
By the time midnight rolled around, Vivian was comfortably tipsy, her earlier worries dulled by the wine and the joy of the evening.
As she stepped out of the car in front of her family's grand estate, Vivian was surprised to see her uncle waiting for her at the entrance. His hands were tightly intertwined, and his posture became stiffer with every passing moment. His eyes were fixed on Vivian.
The sight of him instantly sobered her up, and she quickly gulped down the hangover drink Sohan had given her while dropping her off in her car. She mentally prepared herself for the confrontation that was sure to follow.
Despite her best efforts, she wobbled slightly as she walked toward the main gate. She ignored the old man's piercing gaze and addressed the guard instead. "Open the gate," she ordered, her voice slurred with the remnants of alcohol.
Her uncle's voice cut through the night air, sharp and disapproving. "Your grandmother was waiting for you, but you didn't arrive until midnight. And now you come home this late, completely drunk," he said as the gate slowly creaked open.
Vivian rolled her eyes, her patience wearing thin. "Guard, you should really consider opening the gate manually. It'll be faster," she shouted at the poor man guarding the gate, brushing past her uncle as she stepped inside through the small opening of the moving gate.
But her uncle was not so easily dismissed. He followed her in, his tone insistent. "Where were you, Vivian?" he demanded.
She didn't bother to look at him as she answered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Why do you want to know?"
"You know why," he replied, his voice softening. "I was worried about you. I am your—"
The gate had now opened fully, making a loud clanking noise of the metals. A second later, it started moving back outwards to close, once Vivian's car had gotten in.
"Vivian, dear, I was worried about you." He tried to give another shot at his sentimental speech.
"Oh, please, shut up!" Vivian snapped, finally turning to face him. "You don't care about me or Grandma," she said, her voice cold and distant.
Her uncle sighed, his expression a mix of frustration and disappointment. "Vivian," he began, but she wasn't in the mood for his usual routine.
"God!" Vivian threw her hands up in frustration. "Drop the act."
"I'm not acting, Vivian," he insisted. "I'm genuinely worried about you."
Vivian shook her head, a bitter smile appearing on her lips. "No. Let me tell you what you're really worried about," she said, jabbing a finger in his direction. "You're worried that I'll find a partner and get married, which means I'll inherit this entire fortune that you've had your eyes on for years."
"Vivian—"
"Don't even try denying it," she interrupted, cutting him off before he could finish. "You're worried because your useless, good-for-nothing son couldn't even make a place for himself in the race."
"Vivian!" he shouted, his temper flaring. But Vivian only laughed, enjoying the sight of his anger.
"Instead of keeping your watchful eyes on me, you should focus on your son," she said, stepping closer, her voice low and dangerous. "Did you not read the latest gossip?"
"Vivian—" he tried again, but she silenced him with a raised hand.
"I'm tired," she said, dismissing him with a wave. "Good night."
Without another word, she turned and headed for her private residence on the estate, the large piece of land her grandfather had intended to pass down to his beloved granddaughter.
The sprawling mansion loomed ahead, its grand architecture a testament to the wealth and power her family had accumulated over only two generations. Yet to Vivian, it felt more like a cage, trapping her in a life filled with obligations and expectations she never asked for.
As she walked, her heels clicked against the cobblestones, echoing in the stillness of the night. The cool breeze brushed against her skin, bringing with it the scent of blooming jasmine from the garden near the entrance.
Normally, this fragrance would have brought her comfort, reminding her of her childhood spent running through these very gardens, but tonight, it only served to remind her of how much things had changed.
"You ruined my night, and yet I must wish you a good night before leaving," she called back over her shoulder, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "What a shitty tradition."
Her uncle stood there, watching her retreating figure with a mix of anger and fear. He wanted to follow her, to continue the conversation, but he knew it would be useless. Vivian was as stubborn as her grandmother; her father had been the same. Once they made up their mind, there was no way of changing it. He feared that he might not get what he had worked so hard for.
"Damn it!" He cursed Vivian's very existence. "If only you had died along with your parents. Things would have been so much easier then."
As Vivian finally reached the door to her private residence, she paused for a moment, her hand resting on the ornate brass handle. She could feel the exhaustion settling into her bones, the events of the day weighing heavily on her. The constant tension with her uncle, the emotional toll of her encounter with Alvin, and the unexpected joy of Sanvi's pregnancy—all of it swirled in her mind, leaving her drained.
But as she slipped off her heels and made her way to bed, one thought brought a small smile to her face: Sanvi was happy, and that was all that mattered.
As she lay down, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts began to slow. The room was quiet, except for the distant hum of crickets outside her window. The softness of her bed and the warmth of her blankets lulled her into a state of relaxation, and she allowed herself to finally let go of the day's tensions.