Finnick had the impression that no one was at home because the lights were off when he opened the door. As he switched on the lights and walked to the living room, he spotted Vivian on the sofa, sitting on her knees.
“What’s wrong?” He sensed that she seemed rather out of sorts.
Lowering her head, she ignored his question. Neither did she look at him nor give him an answer.
He thought that some problems at work had caused her to be feeling blue. When he was about to console her, he realized that she was still wearing the newly bought clothes from the day before.
Finnick frowned and did not utter any comforting words. Instead, he commented, “Why are you still wearing this kind of clothes? Don’t buy them ever again, the style doesn’t suit you at all.”
Upon hearing that, Vivian could no longer hold back the anger and grievances buried in her heart.
Big droplets of tears that she had been fighting back streamed down profusely from her cheeks, forming a puddle on the leather sofa.
Turning to Finnick, she stared daggers at him. Her eyes were filled with rage and an obstinate expression settled on her face.
“Does it not suit me?” Vivian said in a contemptuous tone, “Then, who do you think should be wearing this? Evelyn?”
Finnick’s eyes flickered a little when he heard Evelyn’s name. Instead of answering her question, he asked while wiping off the tears from her face, “What’s wrong with you today?”
“Those are the clothes that Evelyn likes, right?” Vivian pushed his hand away and stood up from the sofa abruptly. “That’s why you said they don’t suit me.”
“What on earth is going on?” Annoyed and completely baffled as to why Vivian reacted that way, Finnick raised his voice.
“You still like Evelyn, don’t you?” She looked at him straight in the eyes.
Upon being questioned, Finnick’s expression dimmed. He fell silent for a moment and then locked eyes with Vivian. “That was in the past. The person that I like right now is you.”
“Why don’t you like me wearing this outfit? Wasn’t it because I look somewhat like her when I put it on?”
So, it’s about the clothes. He pacified her patiently, “If you like that kind of fashion, I won’t comment on it anymore. I’m sorry, okay?”
Ironically, Vivian did not accept his apology but was further enraged by it. “Finnick, do you really think that it’s just about the outfit? You’ve never forgotten about Evelyn and always left a place for her in your heart. Am I right?”
Seeing that she was not going to drop the topic easily, he looked at her, pressed his lips, and kept quiet.
Finnick had never seen Vivian being so unreasonable before and had no clue how to respond to the situation. In his mind, she was always a gentle and thoughtful girl.
It was Finnick’s first experience to have someone pointing fingers at him and putting words in his mouth for no apparent reason. As an exceptionally proud man with high self-esteem, he felt wronged but subconsciously would not humble himself to stoop any lower.
Following his lack of response, the room plunged into a pin-drop silence as the tension grew thicker.
Buzz! Buzz!
The sound of a cell phone vibrating broke the stillness in the air. After taking a glance at his phone, Finnick answered Noah’s call in an extremely low voice, “What is it?”
“Mr. Norton, it’s been reported that someone with ill-intentions is trying to acquire the overseas branch. The manager would like you to make a trip there and discuss countermeasures.” Noah sounded rather anxious and did not notice Finnick was in a bad mood.
Moments later, he replied, “All right, you can come pick me up now.”
Perhaps it’s best to separate for the time being and let each other cool down.
Hanging up the phone, Finnick saw that Vivian was still glaring at him. He faltered and then said, “The branch overseas is facing a problem which needs my immediate attention.”
Minutes passed, yet, she did not give him any response.
He opened his mouth and wanted to say something but changed his mind at the end. He headed to the bedroom and packed his luggage.
Subsequently, he went downstairs, grabbed his jacket and strode to the door.
