He could hear clearly enough. And what he was watching was a man who had been telling himself one story for 4 years. Coming face to face with the cost of that story and not handling it particularly well. Viven's voice stayed level. What do you want from this conversation, Ethan?
Specifically, I want to know if you're happy. Why? Because I think I made a mistake. The words fell into the air between them and sat there. Malcolm saw Vivien's shoulders rise and fall with one controlled breath.
He saw her look at Ethan with something that wasn't anger, wasn't longing, either. It was something cooler and more final than both. Ethan, she said, you didn't make a mistake. You made a decision and I spent two years treating that decision like a verdict on who I was and then another two years figuring out that it wasn't. She paused.
You didn't break me. I want to be clear about that. You hurt me and then I healed and now we're here. She glanced toward Malcolm briefly and I'm exactly where I want to be. Ethan looked at her for a long moment.
Then he looked at Malcolm. The calculation behind his eyes was transparent and Malcolm met it calmly without hostility, without performance. Then Ethan said something Malcolm did not expect. He said she used to talk about her work in a way that felt like she was describing a war she was fighting alone. Every call, every meeting, every decision, like she was always defending herself to someone who wasn't in the room.
A pause. I was that person. I was the one she was defending herself to, and I didn't know it. By the time I figured it out, I'd already left. He looked at Malcolm.
"Take care of her," Malcolm held his gaze. "That's not something I'm in a position to promise a stranger," he said evenly. "But she doesn't need taking care of. She needs someone who shows up." Something in Ethan's face changed.
A small concession, a nod. He looked at Viven one more time. Then he walked back to the bar without another word. Viven stood very still. Malcolm came back to stand beside her.
You all right? He asked. Yeah, she said. Then no. Then I don't know.
Give me a second. He gave her a second. He said I used to talk about work like I was fighting a war alone. She said quietly. I heard.