Chapter 5

FIVE YEARS LATER

Magnus Ashford stood alone in his expansive bedroom, his gaze fixed on a single dress hanging in the closet. It was the only tangible memory of Vivienne Marlowe he couldn’t let go of. He had destroyed all her other belongings in a fit of rage and despair, yet something had stopped him when it came to this dress. Every time he saw it, a fresh wave of misery, regret, and self-loathing swept over him.

He had once held everything a man could desire,  immense wealth, luxury cars, multiple estates but none of it could fill the void Vivienne’s absence had left behind. Memories of her haunted him, especially that horrifying night on their fifth anniversary when he had lost all sense of humanity and hurt her in the most unforgivable way.

Vivienne had been an angel, pure and unyielding, enduring his cruelty with a quiet grace that now tore him apart. “I miss you every single day, Vivienne,” Magnus whispered, clutching the dress and inhaling the faint scent of lavender that still lingered.

He couldn’t fathom how he had changed so drastically, from a loving, devoted husband into a monster. It was easy to blame others, especially Elena Drake, but he knew the ultimate fault lay with him. He could have resisted her advances, could have chosen differently, but he hadn’t.

His mind reeled back to the day he first rekindled a connection with Elena. Instead of pushing her away, instead of protecting his wife, he had allowed the affair to fester, dragging Vivienne through a living nightmare.

Magnus had searched for her relentlessly since the day she left, but it was as if Vivienne had vanished into thin air. His last promising lead had come a year ago when his assistant, Ethan, reported a sighting in Italy. He had rushed there, only to discover it was a cruel mistake.

“Magnus!” A shrill voice shattered his thoughts.

He sighed, gently placed the dress back in the closet, and adjusted his tie. He had no intention of dealing with Elena today or ever. The security team would handle her.

“Magnus, you bastard!” Elena’s screech echoed through the mansion.

He ignored her, focusing instead on his reflection in the mirror.

“Miss Drake, please leave,” came the calm, professional voice of his butler, Charles.

Her loud protests continued, and Magnus clenched his fists. How had security failed to keep her out yet again? Reaching for his phone, he dialed the head of security.

“Am I not paying you enough?” he barked.

“Sir, you are more than generous,” the man stammered.

“Then why is Elena in my house?”

“I’ll handle it immediately, sir,” the security chief assured him.

Moments later, Magnus heard the commotion die down as Elena was escorted out. The quiet that followed felt like a balm, but the storm inside his mind raged on.

FLASHBACK

“Where’s the sales memo?” Magnus growled at Ethan.

“You already have it, sir. I gave it to you yesterday,” Ethan replied nervously.

Magnus rubbed his temples, irritated. His memory of the previous night was hazy yet vivid in all the wrong ways. He had thrown divorce papers at Vivienne, cruelly reveling in her tears. Later, he had gone to her room, and the interaction left them both broken.

Vivienne had always been a quiet, steady presence, but in those moments, she had been unresponsive, a shell of the woman he once knew.

“I must have left the memo at home,” Magnus muttered, waving Ethan off to retrieve it.

An hour later, Ethan called. “I found the memo, sir, but there’s something else you should know,” he said cautiously.

“What is it?” Magnus asked, annoyed.

“The divorce papers you gave Madam Vivienne. She signed them. And, sir... she’s gone.”

Magnus froze. He hadn’t expected her to act so quickly. For a moment, he felt relief, freedom finally, but it was short-lived.

Days turned into weeks, and what had initially felt like liberation became a crushing emptiness. On the sixth anniversary of their wedding, Magnus realized he couldn’t live without her.

He ended his affair with Elena, but she refused to accept it. Showing up uninvited, she alternated between pleading and threats.

Despite everything, Magnus’s focus remained on one goal: finding Vivienne. Yet no matter how much money he poured into the search, no matter how many investigators he hired, she remained a ghost.

“Breakfast, sir?” Patricia, his private chef, interrupted his reverie.

“Just prepare dinner,” Magnus replied curtly, leaving the house for another grueling day.

As his car pulled out of the driveway, Magnus whispered into the silence, “Please come back to me, Vivienne.”

But he doubted the universe would grant him such a kindness.

Meanwhile five years later, Dr. Vivienne Marlowe stood by the heart monitor, her eyes fixed on the steady waves. "Alright, his blood pressure is now stable," she announced with a steady voice. "You all did great, everyone."

"It's all thanks to you, Dr. Marlowe," one of the nurses said, handing her a pair of tongs.

Vivienne was in the midst of a high-stakes brain surgery, treating a patient who had nearly lost his life in a car crash caused by reckless driving. Though the surgery was successful, she was already planning to deliver a firm lecture to the patient when he woke up.

"I'll leave the rest to you," Vivienne said, placing the forceps neatly on the instrument table. She stepped out of the operating room, discarding her surgical gown, now clad in teal scrubs. The patient's mother, red-eyed and anxious, rushed toward her.

"Dr. Marlowe!" the woman exclaimed, gripping her hands tightly. "How is he? Will he be okay? Did he survive the surgery? Will he ever walk again?"

Vivienne gave her a reassuring smile. "He’s stable now, and as long as there are no complications, he’ll be just fine. There’s no reason to believe he’ll lose mobility. Rest easy, ma’am."

Tears of relief streamed down the woman’s face. "Thank you so much, Dr. Marlowe. You’re an angel. Your parents must be so proud of you."

Vivienne gave a polite nod and a small smile before gently patting the woman’s shoulder. She made her way to the locker room, where she took a warm shower and changed into a fresh set of scrubs, donning her pristine white coat.

Nine months after reuniting with her mother, Olivia Blake, Vivienne had given birth to twins Jayden and Jayla who had quickly become her entire world. Tragically, Olivia passed away shortly after from a seizure, leaving Vivienne to inherit her wealth and businesses.

Unable to remain in her childhood home, Vivienne renovated it and rented it out to a kind couple. She managed her mother’s real estate and business empire with the help of Mr. Graham, her mother’s trusted lawyer. With this financial stability, she returned to medical school and graduated summa cum laude in neurology. Today, she was one of Canada’s most sought-after neurosurgeons.

"Good morning, Nurse Porter," Vivienne greeted a young nurse in the pediatric ward.

"Good morning, Dr. Marlowe. Finished the surgery already?"

"Yes," Vivienne replied, flipping through the file of a seven-year-old girl recovering from a fractured skull.

"Wow, you’re amazing as always," Nurse Porter said with admiration.

Vivienne smiled, brushing a gentle hand over the young patient’s hair before heading out of the ward.

To her surprise, Dr. Randall, the hospital director, was waiting for her in her office.

"Come in and have a seat. We need to talk," he said.

"Of course, sir," Vivienne replied, taking the seat across from him.

"You’re aware we’re setting up a new hospital branch in the United States, right?" he began.

Vivienne nodded.

"Dr. Williams was supposed to head the neurosurgery department, but she’s had to back out. I know you’ve been hesitant about returning to the States, but—"

"I’ll do it," Vivienne interrupted with a firm smile. "That chapter of my life is behind me. I can face it now."

"That’s admirable. You’ll leave in two days. Thank you, Dr. Marlowe."

"Thank you, sir," she replied.

Later that evening, as Vivienne drove home, doubts began creeping into her mind. Was she ready to return to America? The thought of possibly running into Magnus Ashford unnerved her. But America was vast, and she reassured herself the odds of such an encounter were slim.

At home, she greeted her neighbor, Miss Parker, who had been helping with Jayden and Jayla for years.

"Evening, dear. How was work?" Miss Parker asked warmly.

"Work was fine," Vivienne said, sinking into the couch. "Are the kids asleep?"

"Boo!" Jayden and Jayla yelled from behind her, making her laugh.

"You got me!" Vivienne said, pulling them into her arms.

"How was school today?" she asked.

"It was great! We made drawings and sang songs," Jayden said excitedly.

"And Miss Parker baked us chocolate cupcakes!" Jayla added.

"That sounds wonderful. Did you remember to say thank you?"

"Yes, Mommy!" they chorused.

Jayden looked like a blend of both Vivienne and Magnus, while Jayla was the spitting image of her father. Despite the bittersweet reminders, they were Vivienne’s greatest joy.

As the evening wound down and she tucked her children into bed, Vivienne couldn’t help but wonder what awaited her in America. For the first time in years, she felt the stirrings of uncertainty and hope.