Viv had enjoyed every moment with Khalil, wine drunk and sugared up. She may have flirted more than she already was, slipped her hand in his when he took her home in a gesture she didn't spend too long picking a part until she fell into a dessert wine slumber. It felt good to see him again. Each time was like a warm embrace from the past, one of the few parts of her youth that wasn't sharp edges and biting words. Khalil was good, kind- she kicked herself for letting time get between them. But Viv was learning more and more as of late that she was shit at keeping in touch and easily fell into the woes of her life and the distractions that followed. And in all the wonderful distractions Khalil had been offering her, she'd yet to tell him the news of Ivan. The first time she could chalk it up to the alcohol. The second, the night was too full of laughter to bring up something terrible, and even now, pressing her shoulder fondly against his, Viv couldn't bring herself to form the words. It almost felt cruel both to tell him and both to have not told him sooner.
Pushing her shoulder against his to get his attention, Viv lifted her eyes up at him, a far-off smile on her lips, "So..." She started, "in all our catching up, I've been unsure of how to tell you something." Viv pulled her eyes away, her fingers tangling together in her laps, picking at old nail polish chipped due to how rough she was on her hands. She didn't talk about Ivan, most people didn't have the knowledge of him to ask, and whenever anyone in her family did speak of him, Vivienne found a way to cut the conversation short before their blame could slip into their tone. But Khalil was different, and she wondered when or if he and Ivan had fallen out of touch. Exhaling, she blinked away unshed tears and found the courage to look at him as she spoke with her voice low and controlled. "In September -" She paused, "I should have told you sooner." She continued, her knuckles stretched thin and white, "We were going to dinner, walking a few blocks Ivan and I." She explained finding it more difficult than she imagined to retell a story ten months gone. Her chin quivered, and Viv swatted at her, preemptively slid the side of her palm under her eyes, her fingers catching tears before they fell over her cheeks. "Some man tried to take our things. Money, watch- jewelry." Viv said, her fingers intuitively wrapping around her bare neck to feel for a necklace she hadn't worn in almost a year.
Sniffling, Viv shook her head. He should be spared the details, "Ivan was hurt." She managed to get it out, hoping he could fill in the blanks she couldn't speak aloud. Viv pressed her palms together, shuddering, "He didn't make it, and after, I couldn't stand being there anymore. It's why I left." Finally, she admitted, her tone heavy with all her unspoken shame, "I couldn't face any part of it anymore. I handled it all so poorly." She was still handling it poorly, more so not handling it at all. "I should have told you so much sooner, Khalil. I wasn't sure how. I knew I needed to. You deserved to know...I'm sorry." She ended her palm open for his hand if he needed the comfort, or perhaps it was for herself, looking for something substantial to anchor her in the now.
