We only watched a couple of movies before it was time for lunch. As promised, Thomas joined us. They still didn't speak much, but the air between them didn't feel so heavy. Before he left I made Thomas promise, yet again, that he would join us for a drink later. One reason was my desire to finally see them talk things out, but the other was more selfish.

I didn't want to be alone with Victor. I was almost certain he would try something when we were finally alone tonight, and I wasn't sure if I'd be able to do it again. I was being childish, running away from the problem, but I didn't know what else to do.

I knew if he tried something tonight I'd probably reject him, and the thing I feared most was him asking why. I still didn't know how to explain myself. I already knew "Victor" was jealous of my relationship with "Jack." If I told him I wanted to hold off on a real relationship until I spoke with Jack I couldn't imagine how he'd react.

It shouldn't matter. They were the same man. A relationship is a relationship. In theory.

However, I knew that wasn't the case. Victor was petty and childish, I knew he would throw a fit if I talked about "our" relationship with Jack. At the same time, wasn't it equally as bad to exclude Jack considering it was his body involved? More than that, Jack had feelings for me as well. Would being with Victor count as "cheating?" Would Jack be hurt if I started more intimate relationships with his personas? And what about Victor's feelings about the others?

I let out a deep sigh. My head was spinning. There were so many factors I had never considered before. To most personas it wouldn't matter, they didn't know about the others, but Jack and Victor? They both knew, and I didn't want to hurt them. I sighed again.

"Anna, are you sure you're alright?"

Mr. Weston's voice cut through my thoughts. I looked up, he seemed concerned. I tried to put on my most convincing smile.

"I'm fine, why?"

"You've been sighing a lot," he said, still obviously not convinced. "Come on, you can tell me. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, really," I said.

He reached across the table and grabbed my hand. I felt comforted as he did so. I did care for Victor, and the rest of Mr. Weston, that wasn't the issue. I just needed to find the balance between my relationships with his personalities. I needed time to figure that out.

However, it didn't seem like Victor was going to wait much. He stood up and walked over to me. He tilted my head up gently and leaned down to kiss me. I pulled away nervously. He looked upset.

"Victor, we're in the dining room," I said sternly.

He looked around as if realizing for the first time we were, in fact, outside the bedroom. He smiled sheepishly.

"Right," he said, grabbing my hand and pulling gently. "Well, let's go back to the room then."

No, the room was bad. This was bad.

"Is that all you think about?" I said, annoyed.

He looked at the ground and let go of my hand. He shrugged vaguely. I felt incredibly guilty. It wasn't his fault I felt this way, it wasn't his fault I couldn't explain myself properly. If things were different I might not have minded at all, but I couldn't risk things getting too intimate before I talked with Jack again.

He kept his eyes to the floor, pouting silently. I had to do something to make him feel better. I didn't want him to think he had done anything wrong. I stood up and leaned in to kiss him gently. He looked up, surprised.

"But I thought-"

"We should go for a walk in the garden. That would be nice, wouldn't it?" I asked sweetly.

I'd learned by now he played along better if I acted sweet towards him. He didn't say anything, but he nodded and grabbed my hand. I was glad he wasn't asking too many questions.

What I said wasn't exactly a lie. I did want to see the garden. As much time as I spent in the garden the first few days, that's how little I spent in it the last few. I couldn't really tell the gardeners had been here, but I guess that was the point. Maintain it, not change it.

Walking here now, the afternoon sun beginning to dip down slowly, it reminded me of my first time in the garden. The perfume of roses and the soft glow of the light. The first time I saw him. Sitting there, utterly confused as to who I was and what I was doing here.

It was charming the first time, but by introduction three it got old fast. I looked forward to the day all his personas would know me by heart like they did Thomas. Perhaps some even more intimately. If I figured that whole situation out.

I didn't want to think about these problems anymore. I'd had so many good memories with Mr. Weston. All of him. I didn't want any of them to be tainted with doubt or fear. Jack's gentle nature, Arthur's dedication, Henry's passion, and even Victor's childishness. I loved it all. I sighed, thinking of how I could keep everything the same while still moving forward.

"You're still doing it," Victor said gently.

"What?"

"Sighing, you're still sighing," he said, giving a frustrated sigh of his own. "Why can't you tell me what's really wrong? I know it's not nothing. Is it something I did?"

"No!" I said desperately. Him blaming himself was the last thing I wanted. "Look, it's... complicated. I'm still trying to figure it out myself. I promise I'll tell you all about it once I figure things out, but for now, just let me sigh and mope while I think through things. Please?"

"If you have to, you have to," he said shrugging. I could tell he was still upset about it though.

We walked around a while in silence, but it wasn't a peaceful silence. I could feel the gloom hanging over him. He was still trying to figure out what was wrong, I knew he was. As stubborn as Victor could be, he was also incredibly thoughtful. I knew he'd probably be stewing over what was wrong with me until he either figured it out or I finally told him.

I liked being with Victor. Even now, the idea of walking hand-in-hand with him through the garden was wonderful. I just couldn't enjoy it. There was this barrier between us that I didn't know how to lift.

I wished, now more than ever, that Thomas knew about the nature of our relationship. He knew Mr. Weston better than anyone. I'm sure he would have some advice. That wasn't really an option though.

"Anna, it's nice here, but I'm getting a little bored," Victor sighed.

I smiled. This would get boring fast for Victor. Arthur or Jack could spend all day here, but Victor? He was much more of an indoor person.

"What would you like to do, sir?" I asked.

He grimaced. "First, stop with the 'sir' thing."

"Sorry," I said, giggling, "force of habit."

"Second, why don't we have a drink?" He suggested.

"It's still early, we'll have one after dinner," I said firmly.

He sighed. "Look, I know what Tommy's book says, but I won't overdo it."

"It's just a little longer."

"You can really be such a killjoy," he said, annoyed.

"Look, whatever the relationship is between us, my job is to take care of you," I said, pulling my hand from him. "If you have a problem with that, then find someone else to do it."

Honestly, this was more of a threat to me than him. I was the one who needed the job. Besides, I didn't really have plans to leave. Thomas needed me here and I still needed to speak with Jack. However, he did seem to be upset by this idea.

"There is no one else, Anna," he mumbled. "If it's not you, I don't want anyone else here."

I'd called Victor a child before. His tantrums were absolutely childish, but I saw now they weren't the only childlike qualities he had. He could easily sense a change in someone's emotions, he tried his best to solve problems he knew nothing about, and he was bluntly honest about his feelings. All of them.

I'd had trouble understanding Victor and what he was thinking exactly, but I was starting to understand him better. He wasn't hiding his intentions, he wasn't putting on a show, he wasn't pretending at all. Victor was Victor, plain and simple.

I wished I could be as honest with my feelings as he was. How much easier would my life be if I could tell him plainly how I felt?

I heard a vague shouting in the distance. I turned toward it. Thomas was near the entrance of the house, waving to us. I glanced at the garden. Was the sun going down already?

Victor was still pouting a bit at what I'd said. I reached over and grabbed his hand. I gave it a small, reassuring squeeze.

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere," I said, smiling. "Come on, we can drink after dinner."

He smiled a bit at this and nodded. We walked back to the house together. Thomas waited for us, it seemed the chef had already laid out dinner. Thomas smiled.

"I'd be careful to keep track of the time around meals. We don't want poor Philip shouting to an empty house," he said with a chuckle.

"My bad," I said, smiling.

Thomas just nodded and motioned for us to sit. Dinner between them was just as silent as the other meals, but the heaviness in the air had completely disappeared. It was almost pleasant. It felt as if we'd barely started eating before Victor stood up.

"Well, I was promised a drink after dinner and I think I've earned it by now," he said simply. "An- Ms. Walton, please give me the key to the cellar."

"I can get the wine, sir," I said firmly.

He smirked a bit at this. "Ms. Walton, can you even tell the difference between wines?"

"Of course," I said teasingly. "Red and white. Which do you prefer?"

He started laughing hysterically at this, even Thomas couldn't help but laugh. I smiled and stood.

"I prefer red," he said, still chuckling a bit. "Use your best judgment, I guess. Come on, Tommy. We'll wait in the living room."

Thomas nodded and stood. They left together and I headed toward the cellar. I'd made the red and white comment as a joke, but it really was all I knew about wine. I could drink it just fine, but that was about it. As I stood before the rows and rows of bottles I felt a bit intimidated.

Chardonnay, Merlot, Sauvignon Blanc. What the hell was a Musigny Grand Cru? My head was spinning a bit. Well, he asked for red. I picked two random bottles off the racks. Thomas' book said this was his limit, and I really didn't want to try to do this again tipsy.

I headed back upstairs with my mystery bottles and walked to the living room. Victor and Thomas already had a fire roaring in the fireplace. They had arranged three armchairs around it in a half-circle. Victor smiled as he saw me and motioned for me to join them.

He reached out to take the bottles from me. He smiled a little as he looked at the labels.

"Excellent choices, Ms. Walton," he said happily.

"I'm glad you like them, sir," I said, sitting.

There was a small table in front of us with three glasses and a corkscrew on it. Victor grabbed the corkscrew and began working at one of the bottles. After a minute or so the cork finally popped out.

Victor started pouring some generous glasses of wine. He handed one to Thomas, then to me. Thomas nodded as he took his and began to sip it.

"It's been a while since we had a drink together," Thomas said thoughtfully.

"Has it?" Victor asked, shrugging.

"I think so, I think the last time was... Oh, darn. When was that?" Thomas furrowed his brow, thinking.

"I think when that awful woman got driven away from the job. Remember, the one with the mole?" Victor said, smiling.

Thomas laughed. "Right! First time I've ever been grateful you drove somebody off."

"What happened?" I asked cheerfully.

"Oh god," Victor said, taking a long drink of his wine. "Tommy brings in this absolute beast of a woman-"

"Looks are secondary to performance, and she came highly recommended," Thomas said defensively.

"Looks I can tolerate, but what the hell was that attitude?" Victor asked.

Thomas sighed and shook his head. "She came very highly recommended, but I guess I can see now why they wanted to get rid of her so badly. Day two and she was talking about redecorating and scheduling Mr. Weston's day. Like she was his mother or something!"

"Mother? More like a dictator!" Victor laughed. "She actually told me to go out and do something because she wanted a break. Hello? Do you even remember who's hiring you?!"

They both roared into laughter at this. I was glad to see them getting along so well. We poured a couple more glasses. The more they drank, the better their relationship seemed to get. They were talking openly, laughing, sharing memories.

I sat back quietly and watched them. I would have every night after this with Mr. Weston. I could give Thomas tonight. Besides, I hoped if he drank enough Victor might just fall asleep. It would save me a lot of trouble later.

"What about you, Anna?" Victor asked, uncorking the second bottle of wine.

"What was that?" I asked.

He smiled and turned to Thomas. "I told you we were ignoring her too much. She's completely checked out."

"Oh no, I'm fine," I said with a chuckle. "I just got lost in thought."

"Well, what do you think about another glass?" He asked, raising the bottle.

I nodded and handed him my glass, he filled it generously again. He offered the bottle to Thomas, but he declined.

"I'm afraid I shouldn't have any more if I want to get up in time tomorrow," he said, standing. "In fact, I think I'm about ready to turn in tonight."

"Already, Tommy? It's still early," Victor said, helping himself to another glass.

"Well, I still have some packing to finish tomorrow."

"Right, right," Victor said simply.

Thomas stayed standing, but he didn't move. It was like one of those romance movies where you're screaming at the characters to just kiss already. I wanted to shout at both of them to just talk already, but it seemed like that wasn't going to happen.

Thomas seemed to resign himself to this. He gave a slight nod and started to walk away.

"Tommy!" Victor blurted out suddenly.

Thomas stopped in his tracks. It shocked all of us, but especially Victor. He blushed a bit and cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.

"Umm," Victor searched for the words. "Tonight was fun. We didn't get to do this enough... Come back sometime. You know, to visit. We'll do it again."

He mumbled these words more than anything, but Thomas heard them loud and clear. A smile spread across his face warmly. He nodded slightly.

"I'll be sure to do that sometime. Thank you, sir," Thomas said cheerfully. "Goodnight."

He left the room. It was just me and Victor. I listened as Thomas' footsteps disappeared down the hall. Victor stared at his glass a moment before gulping it down. I couldn't help but smile at his obvious embarrassment.

"That really meant a lot to him, I'm sure," I said gently.

Victor grunted vaguely and poured himself another glass. I could see his cheeks turning a little red. I think it was from the wine this time though because he slouched back in his chair and stared into the fire. I guess we had been drinking for a bit, my head was feeling fuzzy too.

"Should we call it a night too?" I asked.

He picked up the bottle and tilted it back and forth. He leaned over and filled my glass almost to the top. I went wide-eyed.

"Victor!"

"What?" He said, shrugging. "It's a waste. Let's finish it off then head to bed. It will help you sleep better."

I rolled my eyes, but he was right. A couple glasses of wine always made me sleep good. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I was also happy I could share his bed tonight. I missed sleeping next to him.

Victor topped off his own glass with the last drops from the bottle and began to drink it. I still didn't know what this wine was exactly, but it was good.

"Alright, let's go," Victor said slamming the empty bottle on the table.

I looked over to ask what he meant only to see his glass was completely empty. Didn't he just refill it? He looked over at me and smiled.

"Finish up, Anna. It's almost time for bed," he said, laughing.

His voice was slightly slurred. He had been pouring rather large glasses for himself all night, so I wasn't that surprised. I still had almost a full glass. I took another sip but doubted I could just gulp it down like he could.

He stood up and walked over to my chair, he swayed slightly as he did so. He put his hands on the arms of the chair. I couldn't tell if he was trapping me or supporting himself. He leaned in close to me. I blushed as he did so, he just smiled.

"What's wrong?" He asked teasingly. "You can't finish?"

I could smell the sweet scent of the wine on his breath. It was far more intoxicating than any of the actual alcohol. My head went dizzy, I couldn't speak. I nodded vaguely. He reached out and grabbed the glass from me, he drank it in a couple gulps.

"Victor!" I said, finding my voice.

He set the glass on the table and grabbed my hand. He tugged gently, urging me up.

"Do you always have to say my name that way?" He said, half-joking. "It's always in shock or as a warning. Just once, can't you scream it out in ecstasy?"

I rolled my eyes. As I stood he almost lost his balance. I put my arm around him to help support him. He wasn't falling over drunk, but he could certainly use help navigating.

"Anna. Anna!" He cried my name passionately. "Say my name like that."

I blushed involuntarily as he said this. Although "Victor" was very different from "Jack" their voices were exactly the same. Hearing him call my name like that took me back to that first night with Mr. Weston, the way he touched me. Victor leaned into me and placed a gentle kiss on my neck.

"Anna," he called again.

"Will you please stop saying my name like that?" I asked, frustrated.

He seemed shocked by my sudden change in tone. I was happy when we finally reached the bedroom door. I pushed it open and led him over to the bed. I helped him to sit down before going back to close the door.

"Anna," Victor called to me pleadingly.

I sighed and turned to him. "Yes, Victor?"

He motioned for me to come over and held out his arms for me. I sighed again. It would be easier if I just played along until he fell asleep. I was tipsy too and I didn't really have the energy to put up a fight. I sat next to him on the bed, but he pulled me into his lap. He smiled and tucked my hair behind my ear.

"You're very cute when you're drunk," he said, stroking my cheek. "That blush is a pretty color on you."

"Thank you."

I couldn't think of anything else to say at this point. Victor laid back suddenly, pulling me along with him. I gasped as he pulled me on top of him.

"Victor!" I shouted.

He rolled his eyes. "There's that tone again. I'll have to do something to fix that."

He rolled over so he was on top of me, pinning me to the bed. He started kissing my neck. I struggled a bit, but he didn't budge. I couldn't tell if he was ignoring me or just too drunk to notice.

"Victor, stop. Let me up," I said, pushing him.

He tilted my head towards him. I stopped struggling as my eyes met his. I felt frozen in place. He smiled mischievously.

"That's enough talking for one night," he said, pressing his lips to mine.

I should have thrown him off. I should have hit him, or fought, or something. But I couldn't. The wine easily removed my inhibitions, and the truth was I wanted this just as badly as he did.

The wine, his kiss, his body. I couldn't tell which one was making me burn inside. His hand began to travel up my thigh.

I couldn't get swept away like this, not this time. I just needed to last a few more days. I just needed to talk to Jack. Once everything was settled with him I'd know what to do, but right now I couldn't do this. I needed to talk to Jack.

As much as I thought this I couldn't seem to make myself move. His hand made its way under my dress and began tugging at my panties. His lips moved back down my neck and kissed down my chest. I felt his fingers press against me.

"Jack, wait!" I cried.

He did. He froze almost immediately. I was surprised until I saw his face. Anger, confusion, but mostly pain filled it. A cold wave went through me as I saw it. I gasped aloud and covered my mouth with my hands as I realized what I'd just said.

He didn't say anything, he just pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed. I scrambled up, instantly sober.

"I-I didn't mean that!" I cried out desperately.

"You said what you said," there was no emotion in his voice as he spoke.

I crawled over to him and grabbed his hand. He snatched it back quickly. He didn't even look at me.

"It was a slip-up, I swear!" I tried to explain. "I didn't confuse you two! It's just, I was thinking about him so I guess I-"

"You were thinking about him just now?!" He asked incredulously.

He gave a dry laugh and shook his head. He didn't seem to know what to think. I didn't either. This was all wrong. I wasn't saying it right.

"I wasn't thinking about him in that way," I said, exasperated. "I was thinking about how I needed to talk with him, that's all."

"And you chose this moment to remember you two needed to chat?" He said, obviously unconvinced.

"No, that's not it," I sighed. "I've been thinking about it all day, so it's not like-"

"All day? Is that why you've been like that all day?" He asked, finally turning to me.

At this point, I felt like I should just shut up. He kept misunderstanding, not that I could blame him. I wasn't making any sense and the sense I was making wasn't very clear. I nodded. At least that couldn't get misinterpreted.

"Well, what the hell is so important with him that you've been avoiding me like the plague?" He asked.

"I haven't-"

"Anna, I'm not stupid," he said, giving a frustrated sigh. "Even when you're right next to me, or holding my hand, you have this wall up. So what the hell is going on? What does he have to do with this? You owe me at least that much of an explanation."

He was right. I did. I still didn't know how to explain it though. Did it really matter at this point? He was already hurt and pissed off, what else could I do wrong?

"I just..." I sighed and gave up trying to find words. I'd take whatever words I could get. "I need to talk with him about our relationship."

"Our relationship, him and you, or our relationship?" He asked.

Good question. I wish that had an easy answer too.

"Both I guess," I said, shrugging. "All of his personalities really. Jack and I had just barely started a 'relationship' before he... wasn't him. I was still unsure about the job and being here. I'm not worried about those anymore, but now I feel like I can't have this relationship until I talk with him about what exactly a 'relationship' would mean for us. So, it's not specifically a problem with you, it's a problem with everyone. So I need him so we can talk about it."

It still wasn't the most eloquent way to say it, but at least I said it. I hoped he could understand. I just needed that time to talk things over with Jack. After that, we could move on in our relationship, and our relationship, as Victor put it.

He stayed silent for a while. He didn't look at me, he didn't do anything. Finally, he sighed and laid on the bed.

"Anna, go sleep in that other room tonight. I can't be around you right now," he muttered.

My heart sank. "Victor, please try to understand. I-"

"Anna, I do understand. In fact, I think I understand better than you do," he said, bolting up and glaring at me. "Let me lay out what's really happening for you. You spend all day thinking about him, you compare every persona you meet to him, whenever one of us does something he's the one you remember, he's the one you're most intimate with, he's the one you miss, he's the one you keep waiting to come back, and he's the one whose name you cry out. Even when you're with me."

His voice broke on the last sentence. He looked about ready to cry. I reached out and put my hand on his arm. He shook it off.

"It's not like that. It's not," I said desperately.

"You want to know what the biggest sign is for me?" He asked, turning from me. "You didn't try to ask me about our relationship. You probably didn't even think to ask me about it. You jumped straight to him and didn't even consider me."

"Victor, it's his body and life, I just figured-"

"His body, his life. What about me?" He asked angrily. "Aren't they mine too? Shouldn't my opinion matter at all? Why is he the only one who gets to make decisions for us? You know why? Because he's the 'real one.'

That's what you really think, whether you admit it or not. He's the real one. And no matter how hard I try, how much I change, or how much I love you, you'll never see me as anything more than one of 'his personalities.' A fucked up delusion you put up with for his sake.

That's the truth, Anna. If you think for a second I'm wrong, then go ahead and say it to my face, his face."

I was stunned. I didn't know what to say. What could I say? He waited patiently, watching me. I should be screaming that he was absolutely wrong. That he misunderstood. But I couldn't because he didn't.

He was right. "Mr. Weston" was always Jack to me. Even when I thought of accepting "all of him" I only thought of the others as delusions. As parts of him, not individuals who shared his body. He was right.

He scoffed and laid back down. "I thought so. Maybe you should toss out that alarm later. I'm not sure I want to stick around much anymore."

I didn't say anything. I stood up and left. I closed the door gently behind me. As I went to my room I looked around sadly. It was dark, empty, cold.

Maybe it was better this way. I was always meant to be just his caretaker. Victor was a delusion. I shouldn't worry too much about his feelings, he wasn't even real. So why did my heart hurt so bad?

I laid on the bed. I thought of Victor's face. The pain, the misery, the betrayal. Jack had never made a face like that before. He didn't even look like the same person anymore.

Tears streamed down my face silently. The scene played in my head over and over again as I drifted off to sleep. His blank face, his biting voice, his pain-filled eyes. Victor was real, his pain was real, and I had really hurt him.