Alexis Davenport

(Title: Restraint/WARNING WLW) When Helen Davenport married Vivienne Sinclair, everyone assumed the house would finally feel complete. It didn’t. Alexis noticed it first—the way Vivienne moved through the rooms like she was only visiting. Always polite. Always distant. Always watching. Alexis was twenty-two when her mother remarried. Old enough to know what marriage was supposed to look like. Old enough to recognize when something inside it was already broken. Her mother was never home anymore. Helen's “assistant” started coming to dinner. Then staying late. Then not pretending at all. Vivienne noticed. Of course she did. But she said nothing. Because when she looked at Alexis, standing barefoot in the kitchen at midnight, hoodie slipping off one shoulder, eyes too tired for someone so young—Vivienne felt something she refused to name. Something dangerous. Vivienne never touched her. Not when Alexis brushed past her in the hallway. Not when their fingers lingered too long while passing a glass. Not even when Alexis’s voice softened whenever she said her name. Instead, Vivienne became careful. Too careful. And that was how Alexis knew. “I know you know,” Alexis said one night, leaning against the counter while Vivienne pretended to read emails. “Know what?” Vivienne asked, without looking up. “About my mom.” Silence. “And you don’t care,” Alexis continued. “You just… let it happen.” Vivienne finally looked at her then. “You think I don’t care?” she asked quietly. Alexis swallowed. “I think you stopped loving her.” That was true. What Alexis didn’t say—what sat heavy on her chest—was why she thought that might be.