Resilient Hart

A Subtle Manipulations

Viviene couldn't quite pinpoint when it started. Maybe it was the day Regina rearranged her wardrobe without asking or the time she casually suggested Viviene change her hair, just "to keep things fresh." At first, it seemed innocuous, even thoughtful. Regina had always been opinionated, a woman who knew exactly what she wanted and how to achieve it. Why wouldn't she extend that precision to her relationship?

"That shade doesn't do you justice, darling. Try something bolder—something that makes a statement," Regina would say, picking through Viviene's wardrobe with an appraising eye. Slowly, Viviene's comfortable, muted tones were replaced with striking pieces that felt more like Regina's style than her own. She told herself she was evolving, growing into a more polished version of herself. But every time she caught her reflection, she barely recognized the woman staring back.

"Viviene, this dress doesn't truly capture your beauty, darling." Regina had said one evening, her tone light but firm as she pulled a sleek, tailored gown from her own closet. "Try this instead. It's more... you."

Viviene had obliged, even though the dress didn't quite feel like her. Regina had been right, of course—it was stunning, and Viviene received compliments all night. Yet, as she caught glimpses of herself in mirrors throughout the evening, she couldn't shake the feeling that the person staring back wasn't entirely her anymore.

Regina's influence crept into Viviene's life like ivy on a wall—quiet, persistent, and almost imperceptible at first. It began with small suggestions, offered so casually they felt like natural extensions of her charm.

"Why do you keep wearing that necklace?" Regina asked one morning as they prepared for the day. Her tone was light, almost teasing, but her gaze lingered on the simple pendant Viviene always wore.

"It was my grandmother's," Viviene replied, fingering the worn chain absently. "She gave it to my mom before she passed, and my mom gave it to me when I got married. Besides, it's... comforting."

Regina smiled, but something in it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Of course. Sentimental value is important. But have you ever thought about something that suits you more? Something elegant—timeless?"

The comment hung in the air like perfume, faint but lingering. By the end of the week, Viviene found herself leaving the necklace in its box more often, unsure if it was truly her choice or Regina's voice still whispering in her ear. The pendant, once a source of comfort and connection, now felt like a relic of a version of herself that Regina might disapprove of.

Then came the suggestions about her friends.

"Why don't you spend more time networking instead of catching up with them?" Regina asked one evening as Viviene mentioned an upcoming lunch with a college friend. "You're gifted, Viviene. You could be doing so much more if you focused on the right connections."

It was a flattering sentiment, packaged neatly in Regina's unshakable confidence. Viviene couldn't deny the logic, but something about it stung. She canceled the lunch, telling herself it was just this once. But as the weeks went on, her social circle began to dwindle, her weekends increasingly consumed by Regina's world of exclusive events, impromptu getaways, and endless networking opportunities.

Even her career wasn't immune to Regina's deft touch.

One afternoon, Viviene received an offer for a freelance design project she'd been doing on the side on top of her nursing career. She'd been excited about the project—a small campaign for a nonprofit. When she shared the news, Regina's reaction was immediate.

"That's wonderful, darling," she said, setting down her wineglass. "But don't you think your time is better spent on projects that align with where you're heading? Something bigger, more impactful?"