That doesn't count as art. That's just expensive wallpaper. She laughed. You sound like Sophie. Sophie's smart.
They stood at the window looking out at the city lights and Ethan wrapped his arm around her waist. She leaned into him and for a moment everything was quiet except the distant hum of traffic far below. "I don't want this," Vivian said quietly. "The apartment, this life, working 80 hours a week, coming home to empty rooms, measuring success by quarterly earnings. " She turned to face him. I want what you have.
Sophie waiting for you at home. Your sister checking in. A life that's messy and real and actually matters. My life is barely held together by good intentions and duct tape. I know, but at least it's a life.
This is just existing. Ethan pulled her close, feeling her heartbeat against his chest. So change it. It's not that simple. Why not?
Because the company needs me. The board, the employees, the shareholders. What about what you need? She didn't answer, just buried her face against his shoulder. They stood like that for a long time.
Two people from completely different worlds trying to figure out if the space between them could ever actually close. Stay tonight, Vivien said finally. Please. I don't want to be alone. Okay.
She led him to the bedroom, which was just as sterile as the rest of the apartment. They kicked off their shoes and collapsed onto the bed, fully clothed, too tired to do anything except hold each other. This isn't what I expected, Ethan said. What did you expect? I don't know.
Something more dramatic. Passionate speech, grand gesture, that kind of thing. Real life is messier than movies. Yeah, it really is. They fell asleep like that.
Still in their formal clothes, Vivien's head on his chest and his arm around her waist. When Ethan woke up a few hours later, he found her already awake, watching him in the dim light from the windows. Hi, he said. Hi. I was just thinking about about how I want this to work.
Us. I want it so badly. It scares me. Me, too. But I don't know how to balance everything.
The company, the board expectations, the fact that my life is scheduled down to 15-minute increments. So, we figure it out together. She smiled, but it was sad. You make it sound so simple. It is simple.
We both want this. Everything else is just logistics. Logistics like me working 16-hour days and you having a daughter who needs her father. Logistics like finding time that actually matters. Quality over quantity.
You're surprisingly optimistic for someone who was convinced this wouldn't work 3 days ago. I'm allowed to change my mind, especially after you laughed at my blown head gasket metaphor. She kissed him soft and slow, and Ethan decided that whatever logistics they needed to figure out, they'd manage because this, lying in bed with Vivien Hart at 4:00 a.m., both of them still dressed for a fundraiser they'd escaped hours ago. This was worth fighting for. They talked until the sun started rising over the Olympics, painting Seattle's skyline in shades of orange and pink.