Thank god for all the wine I drank or I don't think I would have slept. It was light out when I woke up, but I didn't feel like leaving my bed. What happened with Victor last night was still stuck on a loop in my brain. I hurt him, and I hurt him badly.

I sighed and covered my head with the pillow. I knew "Victor" wouldn't be here today, but I still couldn't stand to see Mr. Weston's face. I knew it would make those memories even stronger. Besides, Victor would return eventually, and what would I say to him?

If I talked to Jack now, then Victor would only use this to confirm what he'd said last night. However, if I didn't talk to Jack then I would be left in the same position as before, and I would feel like I was lying to him.

I screamed into my pillow. Why did this all have to be so complicated? Then again, what did I expect when I got involved with a man who was mentally ill. In what scenario did I ever think our biggest issue would be the boss/caretaker relationship?

The easiest solution was obviously to quit, but I really didn't want to do that. The second easiest would be to go back to a "professional" relationship. With all of them. I couldn't change what had happened, but I could at least make sure it never happened again. I could tell Jack I simply changed my mind about a relationship. After all, we'd only known each other a week. It was nothing serious.

I let out a deep sigh. That was an obvious lie. I wouldn't be agonizing over this if I really thought it wasn't serious. The truth was, I had no clue what I was doing, and according to Thomas, I might never know. I could only sit back, let things happen, and hope it would all work out.

With that, I finally stepped out of bed and got dressed. I went downstairs, only to see some boxes piled by the front door. When did they get here? As I wondered this I saw Thomas walking down with another one.

"Good morning, Ms. Walton," he said cheerfully.

"Morning, Thomas. Are you leaving already?" I asked.

"No, no. Tomorrow," he said, shaking his head, "but I thought it would be better to get everything together. I'm leaving first thing in the morning."

"Well, why don't you have some breakfast first? You'll need the energy."

Mr. Weston suddenly ran down the stairs. He didn't even stop to say hello as he zoomed past us. I panicked a minute, was he avoiding me?

"Thomas, you old bat!" He cried from down the hall. "Why didn't you wake me? I'm losing light!"

I couldn't help the sigh of relief that came from me.

"Arthur," I said simply.

"Good, you're starting to recognize them," Thomas said with a chuckle. "Well, in that case, let's hurry and eat before he takes off again."

We shuffled quickly to the dining room. Arthur was shoving food into his mouth hurriedly. Was he even chewing? I quickly started to do the same. After last time, I wasn't going to take my time eating around Arthur.

Sure enough, by the time I'd managed to finish a few bites he was already done. He didn't even speak, just motioned for us to follow. I ate a few more bites and put an apple in the pocket of my dress for later. Thomas started to stand.

"Thomas, you stay," I said, wiping my mouth. "I can handle him, eat properly."

I didn't even wait for his response as I hurried to catch up to Arthur. I didn't need to worry about where he went, I knew he was in the studio. As I entered I saw him glaring down at his camera. He gave a frustrated sigh and rubbed his eyes.

"Is everything okay, Mr. Weston?" I asked.

I was surprised by how relieved I felt taking on the caretaker role. It somehow felt easier.

"No, actually," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes again. "Something's wrong with my eyes."

"Let me look," I said, walking over.

He stayed still. I tilted his head up to look at his eyes. It almost made me burst into tears. His eyes were bloodshot and looked puffy. Like he'd been crying.

This was the last thing I wanted to think about. Seeing Victor heartbroken was bad enough, but to see how much he suffered after I left was unbearable. How late did he stay up crying?

"Well? What is it?" He asked.

It took me a second to understand. Right. This was Arthur. I was supposed to be checking his eyes. What should I say though?

"A-allergies," I stuttered out finally. "Maybe the cleaners didn't dust properly. I'll talk with them about it."

"Please do, this is incredibly frustrating and inconvenient," he mumbled.

He sat there adjusting his camera for a while. I sat in a nearby chair and watched him. I thought Arthur might help to distract me today, keep me busy by forcing me to follow his demands. I also forgot how lost he could get in his setup. It might be hours before he looked my way again. Arthur mumbled to himself as he worked, completely absorbed in what he was doing. An easy personality to handle.

Personality. The word made me grimace a bit as I thought of it. Victor's words rang in my head. I guess I did think of them all this way. I didn't know if it was possible to make myself stop. What else would I consider him?

I knew what Victor wanted. He wanted to be an individual, a person. Someone completely separate from "Mr. Weston." I was still struggling with how to do that. How can you separate a man from himself?

"Ms. Walton, stand slightly to the left of center for me please."

"Huh?"

I barely registered his words as they broke me from my thoughts. He frowned.

"Ms. Walton, please. We're wasting time here. Please move," he urged.

Blunt, to-the-point Arthur. I stood and moved to where he was motioning. He waved his hand until I reached the "correct" position and began snapping photos.

Thomas would probably be packing all day. It was just going to be me and Arthur. I hoped he wouldn't ask me to pose naked again. I was hesitant the first time, but I really just wasn't in the mood to deal with it today. I had too much on my mind.

It was at that point I realized he had said something to me.

"What?" I asked.

I knew I was being a bad assistant today. I wasn't listening at all. He frowned a bit.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked again.

"Talk about what, sir?"

"Whatever is making you make this face," he said, turning the camera toward me.

I guess I could understand why he was concerned. I looked absolutely miserable in the picture. I shook my head, but he waved it off.

"No, go on. Tell me. You'll be like this all day if you keep it to yourself and I won't get anything done," he muttered.

I wasn't sure if I should feel grateful he was concerned or annoyed he was still focused on his pictures. I settled on grateful. I let out a deep sigh. I wished I could talk with him about it, but what would I say even? I couldn't talk to him about the other hims.

"I hate to assume," he continued, "but does it have anything to do with a man? I don't have much experience with women and their emotions, but it seems like a common problem in movies."

I couldn't help but let out a dry laugh. God, was I really that much of a stereotype? What happened to me? I let out a long sigh.

I heard a rapid clicking sound. I looked up to see Arthur focused on his camera. He gestured vaguely in my direction.

"Sorry, I don't mean to take advantage of your misery, but emotions like this aren't easily captured," he muttered.

He shot up suddenly like he'd been electrocuted. He ran over and started dragging a chair toward the background. Well, I was certainly distracted from my worries now. I wondered exactly what this "inspiration" would involve.

He almost bumped into me as he moved the chair into the center of the backdrop. He ran back to his camera to make sure everything was lined up correctly.

"Sit, sit." He said, waving me to hurry.

I did what he said, but I still had no clue what he wanted. He scurried around adjusting lights before coming back and checking his camera again.

"Alright, Ms. Walton. Tell me all about your troubles," he said cheerfully.

I was confused. What exactly was happening? He looked at me sheepishly. He wanted to ask again but seemed hesitant to bring it up.

"As I said, I'm not trying to take advantage of your misery," he mumbled, looking away from me. "Emotions, real emotions, are so hard to capture. How you looked a moment ago was so raw, so exposed, so honest. To capture those kinds of emotions on film would be incredible!" He smiled enthusiastically but tried to reign himself in. "That is, if you're comfortable with it, of course."

He made it sound like my choice, but I heard the reluctance in his voice. Again, he was determined to see his vision through. He was being considerate of my feelings, but I could see how bad he wanted this.

It wasn't that I didn't want to tell him, it could only help me to talk about it with someone, but the problem was that I couldn't. How would I explain it even?

"Would it be better if you were telling me about 'a friend' instead?" He asked, using exaggerated air quotes.

Actually, it wasn't a bad idea. Omitting a few details to tell him what was happening. It was probably a bad idea still, but I felt about ready to burst from everything I'd been repressing.

I heard the camera click. I looked up, he motioned for me to continue. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Well, 'a friend' of mine recently met a man," I started slowly. He watched me intently through the camera. "He's a nice man, very honest and gentle. He's intelligent and she appreciates his thoughtfulness. The problem is he's... sick. She knows he's sick and that starting a relationship might be bad because he'll never recover, but she can't seem to let him go."

"That doesn't sound too complex," he said, almost disappointed. "If yo- she loves him, then it only makes sense to stay with him. Sick or not. Plenty of people do it."

"Well, that's not the only problem though," I muttered. He perked up again behind the camera. "She came to the same conclusion, pretty much, but now the problem is there's someone else too."

"God, where did you find two men around here?" He muttered mostly to himself.

I decided to ignore the comment and continue. It's what he wanted anyway.

"This other man is... very close with the first one," I said carefully. "They are nothing alike though. The other man is petty, childish, and crude. Still, there are times when he's so sincere and thoughtful that she can't help having feelings for him." I heard the camera click. "This isn't too much of an issue, 'my friend' and the first man never officially started a relationship, but she still feels as if she's betraying both of them somehow."

"Then shouldn't she just pick one?" He asked, taking another picture.

"It's hard because they... are incredibly close. They'll both always be around and she knows choosing one will hurt the other and make all of their lives very complicated. Besides, I- she doesn't think she could choose."

"Sounds troubling," he said simply.

"That's still not the worst of it," I said, giving a dry laugh. "Recently, she was talking with the other man. He's made it clear he's jealous of her relationship with the first one and fears he'll never compare to him.

As much as 'my friend' tries to consider him seriously as a relationship, she feels she can't do so without getting approval from the first man about the nature of all of their relationships. Plus, any others that may appear in the future. However, if she does so she knows the second man will only be hurt that she is asking the first man. He says she's considering the first man's feelings more than his."

"It sounds like she is," he muttered vaguely, snapping more pictures.

"What?"

Perhaps he wasn't expecting me to question him, or perhaps it was the look on my face, but Arthur froze immediately. He looked at the ground sheepishly and shrugged.

"Sorry, it's not my place to say anything," he mumbled, waving it off. "Ignore me, please continue."

"No, tell me what you meant," I pressed. He paused. "Please, Mr. Weston. I could really use your opinion."

More than he knew. Arthur ran his hand through his hair and shrugged again. He sighed.

"Well, from what I'm hearing, this second man seems less like a lover to y- her and more like an afterthought," he muttered awkwardly. "He came into her life after the first one, and even though she's clearly more attracted to the first one's personality she can't seem to let the other go.

The first one is also sick without a chance of recovering. So what it sounds like is that this second man is a... backup. So to speak. She keeps him around in case the other won't be there for her. If she has a deeper connection to the first man, then, of course, the second would feel threatened. Besides, who would actually want to share their lover?"

I didn't know what to say. It wasn't like that, was it? I know Victor worried he was second in my heart, but a backup? Is that really what I considered him? The way Arthur explained things it certainly sounded like it. Plus, was he wrong?

I tried to find a place to argue, but I couldn't. I was more attached to Jack. Maybe because he was the first I met, but whatever the reason I connected with him more. I guess I did see Victor as the backup. If Jack should one day disappear, then Victor would be my next choice. My heart hurt realizing this.

I didn't want to make Victor my backup. I didn't want him to be just another personality either. What could I do though? Arthur was right about that too, who wanted to share their lover?

I let out a frustrated sigh. He cringed back a bit as if he was afraid of what I might do. He cleared his throat nervously.

"Then again, I don't know all the facts," he said quickly. "I could be completely wrong about-"

"No, you're right," I mumbled sadly.

I stared down at my feet a moment. I heard the click of the camera again. I glanced up. Arthur almost seemed to be hiding behind it.

"The thing is, I- she doesn't want things to be that way," I explained. "She knows that the first one will never be well, and she knows that she can never fully separate the first and second man from each other, they're just too close, but how can she love them equally? How can she make them both feel like her one and only?"

"Ms. Walton, I'm really not a relationship counselor," he muttered awkwardly.

"Please, Arthur," I asked gently. He jumped a little as I called his name. "What if you were one of these men? What would you want?"

He sighed again and shrugged. He looked exhausted. Arthur really wasn't much for talking in general, but this conversation seemed especially tiring for him.

"If it were me," he said finally, "I'd want something that proved you were devoted to our relationship specifically. It's harder to say considering there are two men in this situation, but have y- has your friend tried doing something special for each of these men individually?"

"Like what?" I asked.

"Oh, I don't know," he sighed, exasperated. "You know them better than I do. I guess the key to whatever you decide on is that it's something that can only be done for that specific man. It means nothing if you could do it for either of them.

As for that whole 'consent for the relationship' nonsense, that's something they would both have to agree to, not just one of them. So it seems fair to ask them both their opinions and come to some sort of agreement before continuing with one or the other."

He was right, that was perfectly reasonable. Victor was right. I was with him all day yesterday, I could have asked him first and then talked with Jack later. But I didn't. I put Victor second, and he could tell.

As for "something special" I could do, I still had no clue about that. Considering how I hurt Victor it would have to be something pretty amazing though. What would he even want?

I heard the camera click again. Arthur started flipping through his pictures. It was obvious he was trying to avoid further awkward conversations. I smiled a bit at this.

I heard the intercom crackle suddenly.

"Ms. Walton?"

To my surprise, Arthur rushed over and hit the button.

"It's Mr. Weston. We'll be right down!"

Arthur rushed back to flip off the lights. I was too stunned to move. Arthur was stopping to eat? He rushed out of the room without waiting for me.

"Thank god," I heard him mutter under his breath.

I couldn't tell if I should laugh or feel bad. I made poor Arthur feel so awkward he was actually willing to quit working. I decided to laugh. I might have to talk about my personal problems more often with him.

As much as I meant it as a joke I did feel better after talking to him. Arthur's bluntness made for bad conversation, but good advice. He didn't hold back or dance around things. He told me exactly what I didn't want to hear, the truth.

I still wasn't sure how helpful his advice would be, but at least I had something to work with now. I wondered if Victor would laugh or yell if he knew I'd talked about this with Arthur of all people.

I giggled a little at this thought and headed downstairs. I wondered if Arthur might actually take his time eating today.

He didn't. While he was eating slower than usual I would hardly call it "taking his time." Thomas walked in at that moment. He seemed just as stunned about Arthur eating.

"My God, how did you manage this?" He asked.

"I talked with him about some personal problems of mine," I said, shrugging. "He couldn't leave the room fast enough."

Thomas chuckled at this and went to sit down. I didn't exactly lie to Thomas, so I didn't feel too bad about it. We ate quietly for a while. It still couldn't have been more than ten minutes before Arthur hopped up again. I stood to follow but he waved me off.

"It's alright, Ms. Walton," he said quickly. "Take your time. I need to... rethink my vision."

He dashed off before I could respond. I was a little worried. I didn't want to scare him off. I could hardly do my job if he was always avoiding me. Thomas seemed to sense my distress.

"Arthur isn't the most 'socially adjusted' person, so to speak," he said, smiling. "Whatever you told him might have made him feel uncomfortable, but don't worry about it too much. He's not great at empathizing, so he doesn't know how to act around someone who needs sympathy or understanding. It makes him distant. Don't worry though, he'll get involved with another project and forget it within a few hours usually."

This comforted me a little, but I still felt a bit guilty about driving him away. Even if it was only temporary. I'd have to make things right with him later. I glanced at Thomas. He looked tired, he must have been packing this whole time.

"What time are you leaving tomorrow?" I asked. "I'll wake Mr. Weston to see you off."

"No, no," he said, shaking his head. "I appreciate the gesture, really, but I'll be leaving very early. Close to five, actually. Laura and I have some arrangements to make and we need an early start."

I nodded, but I felt a little disappointed. I was hoping that we could give Thomas a proper send-off. It couldn't be helped though. This would be the start of the new future. I would officially be on my own. No fall back, no guidance, no reassurance. It would all be up to me now. I hoped I could handle it.

I finished my plate and nodded to Thomas briefly before heading out. As much as he wanted to avoid me, I still needed to watch over Arthur.

I entered the studio quietly. He was looking at one of the books for some reason. Finding inspiration perhaps? Apparently, it wasn't working because he let out a deep sigh. He seemed upset. Was it because of me?

"Is everything alright, sir?" I asked.

He let out a gasp and the book fell out of his hands. I guess he didn't see me come in. He blushed a little and half-nodded before leaning down to pick up the book. He tucked it under his arm awkwardly.

"I'm sorry if I upset you earlier," I said guiltily. "I didn't mean to put you in an awkward position."

"No, you did nothing wrong. I asked you to do it. Practically begged you really," he sighed. "As I said, women and their emotions aren't my best subjects but don't feel as if you did anything wrong. Having a female assistant is different for me. I just need time to adjust."

I smiled a little. Shy, awkward, and understanding. Arthur was another man I'd have to start seeing as separate from "Mr. Weston." I was glad our relationship was more on the "professional" side though. Two men were already more than I could handle.

"Did you have any luck 'rethinking' your vision?" I asked.

He laughed a bit and shook his head. He set the book on his desk.

"As awkward and inexperienced as I am in this matter, it is an interesting subject to explore," he said, smiling. "I don't think I'm ready to give up on it quite yet. Do you think you'd be willing to tell me more about your life?"

I walked over to the chair and seated myself again. I smiled at him as he went behind the camera.

"I'm ready for my closeup," I said dramatically.

He rolled his eyes. "Please, just continue speaking."

"Honestly, I think I told you everything I needed to confess about my relationship troubles. Is there anything else I could help with?" I asked.

He paused a bit and thought about it. He seemed lost in thought. I was about to ask if he forgot about me when he suddenly looked my way.

"Let's start simple, tell me about your family," he said cheerfully.

I froze. My family? I could feel my face darkening. I heard him take a picture, but he looked incredibly nervous as he did so.

"Perhaps, we should pick a different topic," he mumbled awkwardly.

I nodded vaguely. I knew I was making things more complicated than I needed to, but I couldn't help it. Out of every subject he could have chosen, that was the one I absolutely didn't want to talk about.

I had a lot of issues with my family, but that wasn't what made me hesitant to talk about them. I worried more about how I would react talking about these issues. Mr. Weston briefly mentioned he knew about my family the day I tried to leave, but I knew he didn't. Not really, anyway.

Arthur glanced at me awkwardly. He seemed afraid to ask about anything else after my last reaction. I sighed, I really didn't want things to be awkward again.

"Anything else is okay," I said gently. "Just not that subject."

He nodded briefly and thought for a moment. He glanced at me again.

"How are you adjusting to your job here?" He asked cautiously.

"Well, there are certainly some things that take some getting used to," I said, smiling.

He seemed to relax a little as I smiled. He stood behind the camera and motioned for me to continue. I started talking about life in the mansion and my assistant "duties," but I wasn't really focusing on it. My mind was still on his last question. My family.

Would I ever be able to tell Mr. Weston about them? I didn't even want to think about them. Besides, I doubted he would want to hear what I had to say. The man who lost his entire family, who had no one in this world but his caretaker, how could he ever understand?