Chapter 5
"I warned you before. Don't try to use your feelings to manipulate me," Brennen said. "All the pain you're feeling? You brought it on yourself."
Listening to the words that used to torment me, I felt nothing.
The dull ache that had haunted me for three years completely faded away, vanishing along with the System glitch.
"You're right," I said.
I dropped my gaze, the chill in my tone unmistakable.
"From now on, you're on your own. I won't care about you anymore," I finished.
Brennen's eyes widened in shock.
He grabbed my wrist in a vise-like grip, so tight it felt like he could crush my bones.
"What do you mean by that?" he snapped, his voice sharp and his breath coming in heavy bursts.
He clearly couldn't accept that the always compliant me would suddenly say something like that.
I watched as his expression shifted, anger flickering across his face.
I jerked my wrist out of his grasp.
A red mark appeared on my wrist.
"I mean it," I said flatly.
I stepped back, putting space between us.
I said, "I'm done with this charade. Brennen, these three years were the biggest mistake of my life."
The tension in the hallway was thick.
Brennen's face was livid, his jaw clenched so hard it looked like he might snap.
He stared me down, his gaze full of menace and barely contained rage.
After a long pause, he finally let out a cold, mocking laugh.
That superior, aloof attitude was back.
I didn't spare him another glance.
I turned on my heel and strode toward the bright lights of the hall, my heels clicking sharply on the floor.
My back was straight, my posture unyielding.
I didn't hesitate and didn't look back—not even once.
Brennen's cold warning rang out behind me. "Vivian, this was your choice. Don't regret it."
Just as his words faded, a heavy thud echoed through the hallway.
He slammed something hard against the wall.
I pushed open the double doors to the hall.
The lively buzz and warmth instantly enveloped me as I stepped inside.
From the main table, a chorus of compliments and laughter echoed through the room.
A few distant relatives were fawning over Cheyanne and her mother.
Their laughter was shrill, almost piercing.
It was as if they were the true hosts of tonight's family gathering.
Footsteps echoed behind me.
Brennen followed me inside.
His expression returned to its usual icy calm.
He walked right past me and headed straight for the main table.
One of the elders, holding his wine glass and feeling a bit tipsy, teased playfully. "Brennen, everyone remembers how close you and Cheyanne used to be.
"Now that Cheyanne's back, it's funny how fate always comes full circle."
The table was filled with meaningful, knowing laughter.
Cheyanne cast her eyes down, and her chin was almost tucked into her chest.
She didn't protest and just blushed and toyed with the hem of her dress.
I sat in the corner seat at the farthest table.
I took a sip of water.
I felt like an outsider.
I felt like an outsider, just watching the whole farce play out.
Brennen slid into his seat at the head table.
The elder kept pressing, determined to make Cheyanne drink.
Cheyanne bit her lip, her face full of awkward hesitation as she reached for the glass.
Brennen sprang into action.
He reached halfway across the table, his long arm cutting through the space.
His fingers wrapped around the wine glass and pulled it straight from Cheyanne's grasp.
The move was smooth and protective, like he was stepping in to defend her without a second thought.
Brennen knocked back the liquor in one smooth motion.
His throat worked as he gulped it down.
"She just got back from abroad, and her health isn't great. She can't drink," Brennen said.
His voice was cool and detached, ringing out over the main table.
Brennen shot a look at the elder who'd insisted on the toast.
The usual air of intimidation about him was gone. Right now, all one could see was unapologetic care and assertive protectiveness.
The elder paused for a moment, then started nodding enthusiastically, grinning knowingly.
Cheyanne looked up, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
"Brennen, I'm being a burden to you again," she said softly.
Her voice was soft, just loud enough for everyone at the main table to hear.
Rowdy laughter and raucous teasing erupted all around the table.
Cheyanne naturally leaned in toward Brennen, closing the distance between them.
"Amelia's been talking about you these past few days," Cheyanne said softly. "If you're free this weekend, would you come with us to the amusement park? She keeps saying she wants you to carry her."
An undercurrent of flirtatious tension was brewing in the air.
My fingers slowly tightened around the glass, and my knuckles turned white.
Jordan slid a glass of warm water over to me.
Steam fogged up the clear glass.
Jordan pulled his hand back and said, "Have some warm water. It'll help clear the taste."
His voice was gentle and steady.
There was no prying, no patronizing sympathy—just the right touch of care.
"Thanks," I murmured.
The water helped chase away some of the cold that had settled in my stomach.
From across the room, Brennen suddenly turned his head.
His gaze swept past the crowd and zeroed in on me, his stare sharp and unyielding.
His eyes darted between me and Jordan.
Brennen, who had been listening to Cheyanne, suddenly called out loudly, "Vivian."
His voice slammed into the bustling hall.
The flattery and laughter around us came to an awkward halt.
From several tables away, his eyes locked onto mine.