Merry Misunderstandings

“Shhh, everyone, it could be any second now. Get ready,” whispered Vivienne, her pulse racing. She stood in the dimly lit living room of their high-end New York duplex, surrounded by Hayden’s family and closest friends. The adrenaline coursing through her veins made her grip the party popper in her hand a little too tight. Four years together, and she was about to surprise her boyfriend on his milestone birthday. Thirty was special, after all. Usually, she’d still be working late alongside Hayden, but tonight she’d left the office early to plan this surprise. Both of them were focused on their careers—Vivienne climbing the ranks in public relations, Hayden making waves in corporate finance. They’d agreed to hit their professional goals before starting the family they both dreamed of. Her heart pounded as she heard the sound of a key sliding into the lock. The room fell silent, everyone poised for the perfect moment. But instead of the expected click of the door, there was a loud stumble, followed by murmuring voices. Vivienne froze, her stomach twisting into a knot. Something felt off. “f**k, that feels so good,” Hayden’s voice groaned, low and unmistakable. “I’ve been waiting to do this all day. Vi won’t be home for at least two more hours. That way, I can have you at least twice.” Vivienne’s breath hitched as the sound of sloppy kissing filled the room. The tension among the guests was palpable; no one dared move. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest. “I’ll give you your birthday surprise now,” a woman purred. Peeking cautiously around the edge of the couch, Vivienne saw a shadowy figure drop to her knees in front of Hayden. The telltale sound of a zipper unfastening pierced the silence. “Surprise!” Hayden’s mother’s horrified voice rang out as she sprang to her feet, flipping the light switch on. “What the f**k, Mom?” Hayden yelped, shoving the woman off him. The scene illuminated before them was painfully clear: Hayden, pants undone, his mistress scrambling to cover herself. One by one, the guests rose awkwardly from their hiding spots. A wave of discomfort and disbelief settled over the room. Some muttered half-hearted goodbyes and slipped out the door; others stood frozen, their phones held up to record the chaos. Vivienne was the last to rise, her face a mask of fury. “How could you?” she spat, her voice trembling with rage. “Vi, baby, it’s not what you think!” Hayden stammered, holding his hands up defensively. “Not what I think?” Her gaze dropped to the incriminating evidence. “Your d**k is hanging out!” “I-I…” Hayden stammered, his eyes darting helplessly to his mother, who was now staring fixedly at the ceiling. Vivienne stalked toward him, her movements deliberate. “Vi, baby, I’m sorry, I—” His apology was cut short by her knee slamming into his groin. He crumpled to the floor with a strangled groan. “Vivienne! That was a bit harsh, don’t you think?” his mother exclaimed, but Vivienne didn’t stop to answer. She was done. A few weeks later. Vivienne had asked the taxi driver to drive slowly through New York, taking one last, bittersweet look at the city she’d loved so much. The coffee shop where she’d gotten her morning caffeine fix, the hair salon that always nailed her highlights—it all felt like saying goodbye to pieces of herself. She had no choice but to leave. For weeks, she’d been crashing at her friend’s apartment, dodging Hayden’s increasingly desperate attempts to win her back. From flowers to gifts, each delivery had been sent back with the messenger. She didn’t want anything to do with him. As much as she’d wanted to stay in New York and rebuild her life, the universe seemed to have other plans. The breakup was humiliating enough, but the fallout had been worse. The duplex they shared tied them together like a bad joke, and the viral video of her slapping Hayden’s mistress—a particularly dramatic moment at his birthday party—didn’t help. In the weeks that followed, job interviews turned into nightmares. “So, are you?” one interviewer had asked, leaning forward with poorly veiled curiosity. “Am I...?” Vivienne had replied, forcing a polite smile. “The girl from the video?” It turned out the internet had found her little moment of vengeance highly entertaining. Unfortunately, the CEO of her company—also known as the mistress’s father—hadn’t been as amused. Suddenly, doors that were once wide open slammed shut. Her career in New York was over before she could even try to start fresh. So, when her grandfather called—again—offering her a job back home, she finally caved. “You need a fresh start,” her grandfather had said over the phone. “Come home, Vivienne. Woodland Manor B&Bs needs you.” Come home. Vivienne had rolled her eyes. It’s not like any of her family members still lived there. No, her grandfather still ran the B&B, from afar. But it turns out the manager he had hired had embezzled money, giving the place a bad name. And now it was up to Vivienne to restore it to its former glory. “Attention, ladies and gentlemen, Flight 242, with service to Burlington, Vermont, is now ready for boarding. Please have your boarding passes and identification ready. Priority boarding is available for first-class passengers and those requiring assistance. All other passengers, please proceed to gate B4. Thank you.” Vivienne’s heels clacked on the tiles as she hurried toward the gate, her thoughts elsewhere as she mentally prepared herself for the next chapter of her life—ready to head back to her home town. She boarded the plane, and took her seat. “Hey, I’m sorry,” A man in the seat in front of her suddenly spoke. She had a feeling she knew what was coming. “Aren’t you the girl from the video?” “No, I’m sorry, you’ve got the wrong person.” Vivienne didn’t bother making eye contact, her patience running thin as she pressed the play button on her headphones. She was done with New York. It was time for a new start. A new life.