Chapter 268
The evening air was crisp as Vivian stepped out of the school gates. The streetlights cast long shadows on the pavement, and the distant hum of traffic filled the silence.
“No need,” she said, shaking her head at Adrian’s offer. “I live close by, and the alley’s too narrow for your car. I’ll walk.”
Before she could finish, her phone buzzed—an unknown number flashing on the screen. She held up a finger to Adrian. “One moment,” she murmured, stepping aside to answer.
“Hello?”
“Vivian, you have to help Clarissa!” The voice on the other end was frantic, a middle-aged woman’s trembling plea.
Vivian listened, piecing together the story through the woman’s panicked rambling. Clarissa had crashed into Adrian’s car, and the argument had spiraled out of control, landing them both in police custody. The woman’s voice cracked. “Please, Vivian, don’t let your husband send my daughter to jail!”
“Relax, it’s not that serious,” Vivian reassured her, her tone steady. “It’s just a misunderstanding. I’ll be there soon.”
She ended the call, turning back to where Adrian stood, his expression unreadable in the dim light. The schoolyard was eerily quiet, the only sound the distant echo of her conversation.
Adrian swung the passenger door open again. “Get in. The station’s too far to walk.”
Vivian hesitated. Another refusal might seem like she had something to hide. Finally, she nodded, slipping her phone into her pocket before sliding into the car.
When they arrived at the police station, Ethan was waiting at the entrance. “Mrs. Blackwood—”
His greeting faltered as his eyes landed on Julian, standing just behind Vivian. Suspicion flickered in his gaze.
Vivian noticed and quickly explained, “I ran into an old friend at the school. He gave me a ride.”
Ethan’s skepticism didn’t fade. “Mr. Montclair was at Willowbrook High?”
Vivian’s patience snapped. “Ethan, are you interrogating me? Julian had his own reasons for being there. Do I need to justify every detail of my acquaintances’ lives to you?”
Ethan dipped his head in apology. “My apologies, Mrs. Blackwood.”
“That was out of line.” A cold voice cut through the tension. Adrian stepped forward from the doorway, hands tucked casually in his pockets. His gaze flickered between Vivian’s irritated expression and Julian’s composed stance. “But as your husband, don’t I have the right to ask about your friends?”
Their eyes locked—Adrian’s sharp and possessive, Julian’s steady and unreadable. After a beat, Julian turned back to Vivian, his voice soft. “I should go. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Thanks. Drive safe,” Vivian replied, her tone warmer than before.
Adrian’s jaw tightened. He moved closer, draping an arm around Vivian’s shoulders with a possessive edge. “Sweetheart, your neighbor’s still waiting inside.”
Though he spoke to her, his eyes never left Julian, his stare challenging. Julian met it for a moment, then turned and walked away without another word.
Adrian’s fingers lingered on Vivian’s shoulder as he guided her forward, his voice laced with mocking amusement. “An old friend, huh? You—”
Vivian shrugged him off, putting distance between them. “We’re almost divorced, Adrian. Remember your place—you’re nearly my ex, not my husband. I’m an adult. I don’t need you questioning my choices.”
Adrian’s expression darkened, but before he could retort, Vivian strode past him, heading into the station without another glance.
The tension between them crackled in the air, unresolved.