Dangerous Perfection

Chapter 8: Him

There was a part of her, a part of Vivienne, that was hurting severely. She was suffering from the lost of someone she had cared for dearly.

And, staring at her daughter's tree house had reminded her of him.

***

"Last piece!" Wren hollered, his voice filled with excitement, as he met the hammer with the screw.

"Oh my! It's so lovely," Vivienne cried, imagining the fun times they would have in the tree house with their daughter, Ivory, not knowing that time was limited.

And, yes. Wren was indeed Ivory's biological father, but Wren and Vivienne were never married, or anything of the sort. They were just two good friends who yearned for the same thing.

A family.

Little one-year-old Ivory peeked from around the corner, grinning widely from the sight of her new playroom.

"I think she likes her new tree house," Wren acknowledged, patting Ivory's soft head, before kissing her cheek.

"Mommy does too," Vivienne affirmed.

Her lips curved into a bright smile, her dimples showing, as she then went to beside her best friend and wrapped her arms around him.

***

"Mommy?"

Ivory looked up at her mother, who was caught staring blankly at the tree house.

Vivienne's eyes were glossy as she blinked a couple of times, her child having drawn her out of her head. She forged a minuscule smile, stopping herself from further reminiscing the past, as her eyes then shifted downwards to her beautiful and bubbly child.

"Were you planning on going in the tree house today?"

Ivory's eyes widened, revealing her shock, for her mother refused to ever step foot into the tree house, for who knows how long, though Ivory didn't know why.

She had no clue.

"What?"

Vivienne was puzzled by her sudden question, the words slowly registering through her brain. 

"No... No, I was just..."

Her thoughts were trailing, and she had found herself dodging the question all together.

"What are you doing?"

Ivory grinned. "Drawing the most important person!"

Ivory confidently raised her hands up in which held a drawing that she had drawn.

The brunette squinted as she stared at the drawing, holding back her tears. It was the two of them holding hands, with daisies surrounding them everywhere.

Through the death of someone she had loved, she was also sent a gift in which resembled him...

Funny how that was. Through something so painful and so dark, there was also a kind of light from it all. There was love.

***

"Turn to the next page everyone, and let's read further on." Mrs. Royal instructed as she slowly paced at the front of the class.

Everyone did as told, and so Mrs. Royal began reading the following passage.

"How came he dead?" She began, speaking with an evident passion in her voice.

Sloane intently read along, mouthing the words, as her teacher's elegant voice penetrated her ears.

"I'll not be juggled with. To hell, allegiance!" Her voice heightened, which caught the class off guard, but leaving them with little giggles.