Chương 6: Chapter 6: Ethan’s POV

I couldn't shake what just happened. Had I really seen Viv, or was my mind playing tricks on me? The woman I met looked like her—same striking features, same sharp gaze. But her hair was different, styled in a sleek bun rather than the short pixie cut Vivian wore back then. Could I be mistaken?

I took a breath, determined to find out the truth. I climbed the stairs again, feeling a strange mix of nerves and anticipation. Knocking, I heard the same voice say, "Come in." As I stepped inside, her eyes shot up, sharp and impatient.

"Sorry to bother you again, ma'am, but it appears I might know you," I managed to say, though I half-expected to be thrown out of the office.

Her face hardened, and she frowned, visibly displeased. "Excuse me? What do you mean?" Her voice was icily professional. The resemblance was undeniable now, but she wasn't giving an inch.

"Vivian... is that you?" I asked, my heart thudding.

The words must have triggered something because she stood and motioned toward the door. "Mr. Lawrence, if you value your new position, I'd suggest you leave now. I have no idea who you're talking about, and frankly, I don't care to." Her voice was controlled, but there was a flash of something in her eyes—annoyance, anger, maybe pain.

Stumbling out, I muttered, "I'm sorry, ma'am, I didn't mean to overstep." I backed out, a mix of embarrassment and confusion flooding over me. Her perfume lingered in the air, a scent I hadn't forgotten. That was her. There was no doubt in my mind.

Back at my desk, my thoughts were spinning. How did she end up as my boss? And why was she acting like she didn't know me? I barely had time to process this when there was a knock, and in walked another woman who looked remarkably similar—but with locs and a casual smile. I stared, speechless. Could it be?

"Excuse me, you're the new hire, right?" she asked, her tone friendly.

"Yes, ma'am, but I just met you upstairs. You gave me an assignment," I replied, bewildered.

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I haven't been upstairs today. You might've met my twin sister, Veronica." She laughed, but my stomach dropped. Twin sister. Of course. I wasn't just facing my ex-wife, but her sister too. This job was quickly turning into a nightmare.

"Ah... right. I must have gotten confused," I mumbled, the realization sinking in. If both of them were here, working with them might be unbearable. "Thank you," I added quickly, eager to escape the encounter.

She paused, looking at me with curiosity. "You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm fine, thank you," I lied, forcing a smile. But inside, I knew my past had come back to haunt me, and I had no idea how to handle it.

Later, I drove home, pushing down a surge of panic as memories flooded back. At least Clara, my girlfriend, would be home—my comfort, my fresh start. We'd been together for some time, and though we weren't married, she was my solace after the hell I'd been through with Vivian. She was also pregnant, our new beginning, and I was holding onto that.

Flashback: Three Years Ago

One evening, I found Clara waiting outside our house, clutching her arms tightly, her expression pleading. She looked exhausted, like she'd spent hours debating whether to come, and yet here she was, voice breaking as she spoke. "Ethan, please, just hear me out."

I froze, anger rising in a thick wave. "Clara, how did you even find my house? I'm married now. What part of that don't you understand?" My voice was sharper than I intended, laced with frustration and disbelief. I'd moved on; she wasn't supposed to be a part of this life, not anymore.

She didn't flinch, but I could see the hurt clouding her eyes. "I just need five minutes, Ethan. Just five minutes to explain."

I sighed, glancing at the darkened windows of the house. I couldn't have this conversation here, not in front of Viv. I ran a hand through my hair, irritated but feeling a hint of pity despite myself. "Alright. Come by my office tomorrow," I muttered. Without another word, I shut the door, leaving her standing alone on the front step. But as much as I wanted to put it out of my mind, the damage was done. Her presence clung to me, haunting me well into the night.

When I finally drifted off to sleep, Clara appeared in my dreams—fragmented memories of us, laughter, and stolen moments, all spilling over like an unsealed wound. I woke in the early hours, drenched in sweat, as if pulled from a nightmare I hadn't realized I was having. Viv stirred beside me, her eyes soft with concern. "Babe, are you okay?" she murmured, her hand brushing my arm gently.

"It's... nothing," I said, brushing it off, though the words caught in my throat. Clara's unexpected reappearance had dredged up things I'd thought were long buried. I wrapped my arm around Viv, pulling her close, hoping to find solace in her warmth. But even as I held her, all I could picture was Clara—her hurt, her desperation, the questions in her eyes I hadn't stayed long enough to answer.

As I pulled up to the house the next evening, I saw Clara waiting by the front steps, looking radiant despite her obvious weariness. Her hand rested on her growing belly, and when she saw me, she smiled, her face lighting up in a way that twisted my heart. I felt an overwhelming pang of guilt as I stepped out of the car, forcing myself to return her smile as I walked over to wrap my arms around her. I hadn't told her about Viv. She had no idea about the storm brewing just beneath the surface, and somehow I was too afraid to break the fragile peace we had built.

"Hey," she greeted me, her eyes searching my face as if looking for reassurance. "How was work?"

"It was... fine," I lied, managing a tight smile. I glanced down at her belly—the small bump that represented something entirely new, a fresh start, something pure. Clara had become my peace, my quiet amidst the chaos I'd once felt. And I couldn't bear the thought of losing her, of losing this.

But with Vivian back in my life—and, even worse, as my boss—I could feel everything slipping. The delicate balance I'd fought to maintain felt like it was crumbling, and each lie weighed heavier than the last. I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep up this charade—keep the past from colliding with the present.

Clara's hand reached for mine, grounding me in the moment, but I couldn't shake the sense that I was running out of places to hide. The past had found me, and I was running on borrowed time.

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