Vivian kept her focus on the files before her, but the weight of her grandmother's words pressed heavily on her chest. The silence that followed was thick, almost tangible, threatening to suffocate them all.
She could feel her grandmother's eyes penetrating into her, waiting for her to say something, anything. The tension in the room was unbearable, a coil tightening with each passing second.
When the silence became too much to bear, Vivian finally spoke, her voice tinged with both concern and frustration. "Grandma, please. You're fine." The words were meant to be reassuring, but even as they left her lips, she knew how hollow they sounded.
The chairwoman's eyes narrowed, her fierce gaze locking onto Vivian's. "For how long?" she asked, her voice softer now but no less intense.
She stood up slowly, her movements deliberate as she approached Vivian's desk. Her eyes swept over the piles of papers and files that seemed to have stolen away her granddaughter's attention.
Vivian watched her grandmother's approach, feeling a pang of guilt as she noticed the deep lines etched into the older woman's face.
The chairwoman had always been a formidable presence, a pillar of strength in both the family and the company. But now, as she drew closer, Vivian couldn't help but see the fragility beneath the surface—the way her hand trembled slightly, the weariness that clung to her like a shadow.
"What happened with the date?" her grandmother finally asked, the question Vivian had been preparing for all morning.
She had rehearsed her answer countless times since she'd gotten out of bed, but now, faced with her grandmother's fearsome stare, the words seemed to have slipped away from her mind.
Vivian swallowed hard, her mind racing to piece together the response she had so carefully crafted. But no matter how hard she tried, the words disappointed her by not coming out of her mouth.
When did answering these questions become more difficult than dealing with the sick, old directors? she asked herself, her fingers gripping the edge of her desk so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
"Not him," Vivian mumbled, her eyes fixed on a piece of paper she wasn't really reading. The words swam before her eyes, dancing mockingly as if teasing her for her inability to handle the situation.
"Why?" her grandmother demanded, slapping the table with enough force to send the papers fluttering to the ground. The sharp sound echoed in the room, and Vivian flinched, startled by the sudden outburst.
"Grandma!" Vivian gasped, quickly bending down to pick up the scattered papers, her heart racing. But her grandmother wasn't finished.
"You unfilial granddaughter!" the chairwoman shouted, pointing a trembling finger at Vivian. Her voice was filled with anger, but beneath it, Vivian could hear the desperation, the fear. "Why don't you listen to me? Once I'm gone, all of this will be taken away from you if you don't satisfy your grandfather's will."
Vivian froze, the weight of her grandmother's words hitting her like a physical blow. The thought of losing everything her family had built was terrifying, but the idea of marrying someone she didn't love was even more terrifying. She opened her mouth to protest, to explain that she needed more time, but her grandmother cut her off.
"Look at Sanvi. Look how far she's gone in life! She's married, she has a family, and she's still managing her career. Why can't you be more like her?" The chairwoman's voice rose to a pitch that made the walls seem to tremble. Outside the cabin, employees exchanged nervous glances, their curiosity piqued.
"Grandma, I'm not Sanvi," Vivian said quietly, her hands stilling on the papers she had gathered. She couldn't meet her grandmother's eyes, couldn't bear to see the disappointment she knew would be there.
"Then tell me, tell me today what do you want? I need to know what you are thinking," her grandmother continued, her voice trembling with emotion. "Do you want to be alone forever? Is that it?"
"Grandma," Vivian was at a loss for words, her mind racing but unable to find an answer that would satisfy the chairwoman.
She wanted to say that she wasn't ready, that she still needed time to heal from the past, but the words felt inadequate and childish.
"Vivian! You must get married now. You've crossed thirty. I've waited long enough," her grandmother insisted, her voice laced with desperation.
"Your grandfather's will is clear. If you don't marry and secure the future of this family, everything will fall apart."
"Grandma, I'm not ready yet," Vivian said, stepping closer and gently grabbing her grandmother's arms. She could feel the frailty in her grandmother's bones, the way the once-strong hands that had guided her through life now trembled with age. "I need time."
"Vivian, you can't remain tied up in your past forever. Move on already," the chairwoman pleaded, her tone softening as she gently caressed Vivian's cheek.
Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, the sight of her granddaughter's pain cutting deeper than any words could express. "I want to see you happy, my dear. I want to know that you'll be okay when I'm gone."
"I can't marry any of those people," Vivian whispered, her voice barely audible. "They're all—" She hesitated, searching for the right words.
"They're all scoundrels, vicious— I don't know. They just give me this shady vibe. I just can't. None of them feel right," she finally admitted, her frustration evident.
The chairwoman sighed, her shoulders sagging as if the all the burden of the world was pressing down on her. "Seven years, Vivian. Seven years and ten blind dates over the last year. How long does it take for you to find 'the right man'?" her grandmother pressed, her patience wearing thin.
"I—" Vivian started to reply, but the words stuck in her throat. How could she explain the fear, the uncertainty that gnawed at her every time she thought about opening her heart again? How could she make her grandmother understand that it wasn't about the right man, but about the right time?
"Shut up!" the chairwoman snapped, cutting Vivian off. Her anger seemed to drain her strength, and she swayed on her feet, her legs threatening to give way. Still, she tried to make her granddaughter understand, to break through the wall that Vivian had built around herself. But it was like knocking her head against a brick wall—no matter how many times she tried, the wall remained unyielding, while she only grew weaker.
"You—" The chairwoman's voice faltered as dizziness overtook her. She could feel the room spinning, her legs buckling beneath her. A sharp pain shot through her left arm, and her hand went numb.
As she fell, her last conscious thought was of Vivian, the granddaughter she had fought so hard for, slipping further and further away from her grasp.
"Grandma!" Vivian cried out, panic flooding her as she lunged forward, catching her grandmother just before she hit the ground.
The chairwoman's weight was almost too much for her to bear, but she held on, her arms trembling as she lowered her grandmother to the floor.
Sanvi burst out of her seat, her usually composed demeanor shattered as she rushed to their side. Her hands trembled as she took her guardian's head in her lap gently. "Mo— Chairwoman." She said in a shaky voice.
"Help! Someone get help!" Vivian screamed, her voice breaking as she looked down at her grandmother's pale face. The older woman's eyes were closed, her breathing shallow. A cold dread settled in the pit of Vivian's stomach, and she could feel the tears welling up, blurring her vision.
The chairwoman could hear faint voices of both her grandmothers and some people rushing in the cabin.
The contrast between the two women's reactions—Sanvi's tears and Vivian's frantic attempts of finding ways to help her grandmother—highlighted the irony of their situation. Sanvi, who had distanced herself from the family, was now moving forward in life, while Vivian, who had shouldered the burden of the family's expectations, was being crushed under its weight.
"Stay with me, Grandma. Please, just stay with me," Vivian whispered, her voice trembling as she held her grandmother's hand tightly in hers, the tears finally spilling over.