Chapter 19: The Morning After
The soft light of early morning filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow over the Ainsley estate. The air felt crisp, the remnants of the night's tension still lingering in the house like an unspoken promise. Eva stirred in her bed, her small frame shifting beneath the soft sheets as she yawned and blinked against the sunlight. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the day's beginnings, and the moment her mind cleared, a sense of longing bubbled up from within her.
She rubbed her eyes, sitting up in the bed with a soft stretch before sliding her feet to the floor. Her usual morning routine was about to begin, but today, something felt different. Her heart fluttered with excitement, as if she had forgotten something important but couldn't quite put her finger on it.
Mama.
The thought came to her immediately, affection replacing any lingering sleepiness. Evelyn usually greeted her in the morning with a kiss or a whispered word, warm arms gathering her close before the day began. But today, her bed was cold. Empty.
With a small frown, Eva padded across the room, the soft carpet tickling her bare feet. She reached for the door and cracked it open, peeking into the quiet hallway.
The faint murmur of voices caught her ear—gentle, familiar, and close. Curiosity overtook hesitation, and she crept along the corridor, her movements featherlight, until she reached a partially open door.
Aunt Vivienne's room.
The voices were clearer now, the low murmur of conversation carrying an intimacy she didn't fully understand. She peeked through the narrow gap.
Evelyn sat close to Vivienne on a velvet armchair beside the window, their bodies angled inward, sharing something quiet and slow. The soft light of the rising sun painted Evelyn's hair gold, and in the hush of that room, something unspoken passed between them like the brush of fingertips along bare skin.
Vivienne leaned in slightly, eyes half-lidded with a teasing smile. "Is that all you enjoy about me?" she murmured.
Evelyn's reply was a breathless whisper, her lips curving into a secret smile. "For now."
The moment hovered, warm and charged. And then, Evelyn stood—abrupt, like a cord had been tugged. She stepped away from Vivienne, her expression flickering into something unreadable. Vivienne remained seated, though her eyes lingered on Evelyn, bemused.
Eva pushed the door open with a soft creak, disrupting whatever spell had been there. "Mama!" she chirped, her voice bright and full of sleep-laced affection. "Do you like to go to Aunt Vivi's room?"
Evelyn's blush deepened instantly, her composure briefly cracking. She hadn't heard Eva approach. She looked toward her daughter, then back at Vivienne, who was already smirking.
Vivienne leaned back with easy grace. "Well now, Eva," she said, voice honeyed with mischief. "If I'm your favorite, does that mean your mama's favorite too?"
Evelyn cleared her throat, brushing her hair back in a rare gesture of self-consciousness. "Vivienne."
But Vivienne only smiled wider and rose to her feet, sweeping Eva up with practiced ease. "How about we get you some breakfast, little star?" she said warmly, her tone softer now. Eva squealed with delight, wrapping her arms around her aunt's neck.
Evelyn followed them out, still flushed, her thoughts tangled in everything that hadn't been said. As they walked the long corridor to the dining hall, she stole a glance at Vivienne. Just a glance—but one that held weight. Something had changed, even if they weren't naming it yet.
Downstairs, the dining hall was already aglow with soft morning light. Reginald sat at the far end of the long table, silent and brooding, his eyes unreadable. As Vivienne set Eva gently into a seat between them, Evelyn offered a quiet "Good morning," receiving only a curt nod in return.
She sat beside Eva and smoothed the child's hair, her fingertips lingering a moment too long in the silken strands. When she looked up, Vivienne was watching her—not boldly, but with a lingering softness, as if recalling the brush of breath between them earlier.
Vivienne broke the moment with a smirk and leaned over to kiss Eva's cheek. "What about you, my little darling?" she teased. "Don't you want to give Aunt Vivi some attention today?"
Eva giggled and shook her head, her curls bouncing. "Auntie Vivi, more kiss!" she demanded, bright-eyed and mischievous.
Evelyn sighed, her voice affectionate. "You are a handful."
Vivienne obliged, pressing another loud, exaggerated kiss to Eva's cheek that made the girl squeal with delight. She clung to Vivienne's arm, delighted by the attention—until she turned her gaze to Evelyn, her lips curling into a soft pout.
"Mama," she said, clearly expecting equal affection. "You kiss too, okay?"
There was no escaping it. Evelyn leaned in and kissed Eva gently on the forehead, her lips lingering longer than usual. As she drew back, her eyes flicked toward Vivienne. The barest smile touched her lips.
Eva beamed, triumphant. "Now I'm happy!"
Vivienne chuckled and sat back, nudging Evelyn's foot beneath the table with a faint pressure. Evelyn didn't flinch, but her lips quirked in response.
Across the room, Reginald's gaze sharpened. He'd said nothing since they'd entered, but he was watching. The warmth between the three of them—the woman he once claimed, the sister he always resented, and the child he could never fully understand—was a tableau he couldn't touch. The quiet gathering at the table was lighthearted, but it excluded him with casual ease.
Vivienne, always the provocateur, picked up the thread of conversation. "You know, Eva," she said lightly, "I think I might be your new favorite. Your mama's so busy with all her responsibilities, but I always have time for you."
Eva's eyes narrowed playfully. "Mama is my favorite! But I like you too." She giggled, then added slyly, "But only if you give me more kisses!"
Evelyn laughed under her breath. "You're impossible."
Vivienne grinned. "She gets it from you."
The meal passed with gentle ease—playful teasing, soft laughter, Eva's bright voice filling the space. Reginald remained silent, his presence like a shadow at the far end of the room. No one addressed him directly.
But Evelyn caught Vivienne's gaze once more. And this time, she didn't look away. Just the smallest tilt of her head, a flicker of gratitude, of memory. Not a declaration. Not yet.
But something had shifted.
Something had begun.