Affection. Such a simple yet necessary thing in the physical and mental development and maintenance of all human beings. Having been denied it as a child and young adult, he craved it more than any drug.
Elsa had been denied this very thing by Nathan and so many others, including himself. He hugged her tighter until he heard her breath hitch, trying to make up for all that everyone had withheld from her. She was meant to be held like this. To be loved. If only he could feel that emotion… allow that emotion… he would give it to her and so much more. In another life, one where Mr. Black didn’t exist, maybe he would.
10: Ms. White
A song on the radio came on, reminding Elsa of Nate. His blue eyes, his dimpled grin, his boring, nostalgic stories… And the smile he gave that woman just before leaving with her. According to Mr. Black, there had been two others. How many were there in total in such a short period of time? It made no difference. She knew he had his own reasons for doing what he did. And who the hell was she to point fingers at him about infidelity?
The heavy feeling in her chest gave way to guilt. He would never forgive her when he learned of her betrayal. And he would learn. Eventually. They were part of a large social circle in Richmond that would make it impossible to hide. When he did, she would have to face the ramifications of her choices and answer to him. Truthfully. Even if the truth was ugly. Would he even care what her reasoning was? Probably not after what she did to him.
A week passed since Elsa had last seen Victor in person. During that time, he had made appearances on television numerous times during press conferences. He stood in the back, looking tired as if he hadn’t had any sleep, dark circles ringing his eyes. No matter how hard she tried to stay unfeeling toward him, his uncharacteristic wrinkled and unkempt appearance filled her with worry.
Minus the part where he nearly exposed their relationship to Nate, her last memory of him holding her was a pleasant one and she allowed herself to pretend it was sincere, even if it wasn’t.
Her week without him had been peaceful. Tranquil, even. No worries or concerns about what he had planned next or what traumas from his past would unfold before her.
The only hiccup in her week had been a letter she received from him in the mail, listing out her new and improved list of rules; the least hated of which was to PicChat her private parts to him daily. Although an outlandish stipulation, it was completely doable.
The other rules, he could firmly shove up his ass. Most especially the one that required her to show up at his house, every work day, to face the north wall of his bedroom, nude, kneeling with her legs slightly apart, her hands folded behind her neck and elbows spread wide. Fifteen minutes of - a third of her damned lunch break - was spent on that ridiculousness. She had no idea what the point of that little exercise was except to ensure her compliance with his rules, but it seemed asinine and, frankly, sadistic. Twice, she had flipped the camera off after her time was up. She would probably regret that later, but she could care less.
Even with the ugly lie wedged between her and Nate, each day that passed made it easier to accept her role in Victor’s life. He was sharing his secrets and that seemed to make everything he was doing, acceptable. Fucked up, for sure, but tolerable somehow. She might not feel that way in a day or a week, but today, she felt as good about her situation as feasibly possible.
Anyway, with Victor, and Mr. Black, it was best just to take things one day at a time. To think ahead or try to predict his actions would only drive her insane. Well… more insane.
Friday evening, she received a text message. The work week without him had been just enough time for her to mentally recuperate from everything that had transpired the weekend before, and she was ready to learn more of Victor’s secrets.
When she arrived at 2500 East Grace Street, she found him sitting in his office, reviewing video footage. She stood patiently at the door, watching him analyze her movements and actions. She didn’t realize he had seen her in the frame of the door, but without looking at her, he motioned for her to join him.
Hesitantly, she did, but kept her eyes away from the monitor. Rather than sitting in his lap, she knelt at his feet and rested her chin on his knee so that she could study his reactions to what he was seeing. He glanced down, his eyes scanning her face. The fingers of one hand laced through her hair, while the other hand punched buttons on the computer.
His touch was soft, warm, familiar; his smell enticing; his expression passive. It was quite a look for him.
Suddenly, his eyebrows shot up as he watched the monitor, the corners of his lips curled upward and a laugh rumbled in his throat.
His irises zoomed in on her again and he gave her a tsk tsk.
He patted his knee, gesturing for her to sit in his lap.
“Do I really have to?”
“Yes,” his eyes remained on the screen.
She sighed, but complied. No words were spoken as he continued to scrutinize every angle and movement of her on the video. On the occasion where she would sneak a peek at the screen, the only thing she witnessed was herself roaming around his house at 1.5x speed.
“Shouldn’t you be concentrating on work instead of this?”
“Yes.”
His voice remained monotone and he refused to look at her.
Her fingers threaded through his soft hair, pushing it away from his eyes. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re handsome?”
A boyish grin spread across his face. “Yes.”
She wrapped an arm around his shoulder and gave him an irritated sigh. “Do you plan on speaking to me in more than one syllable this evening?”
“Yes,” his laughter bubbled over.
Bored and frustrated, she glanced at the screen again. What was gained by this sort of obsessive behavior to know absolutely everything? Yes, she enjoyed watching people too, but not on some computer monitor. She liked to see the action as it unfolded, not some rehashed version that could be analyzed. And she sure as hell didn’t want to watch herself in action. He was experiencing these things with her firsthand, so what was the point of scrutinizing the minute details? His curiosity made her wonder, though... had he watched their interaction from that last fateful day?
“Do you still have the videos of our time before?”
His eyes darted sideways, his smile fading. “Yes.”
“Have you watched them?”
His chewed the corner of his lip before answering. “Yes.”
“All of them?” she pressed.
No words this time. Merely a nod as he tensely adjusted a knob.
“Can I see the video of our last day together?” Her voice came out whispered and full of uncertainty.
He winced, ran a hand through his hair and looked at her with confusion sparkling in his eyes. “Why would you want to see that?”
“So you can speak in more than one word sentences.”
He didn’t find her statement amusing and simply stared at her with unflinching directness as he waited for her answer.
But she had no answer for him. She didn’t know why she wanted to see it, she just did. Maybe to convince herself that she hadn’t made the whole thing up in her mind. That perhaps he hadn’t been as harsh as she remembered or that she hadn’t been as weak as she recalled.
“Can I?” she continued without answering his question.
“No.”
He was back to his one-word responses. His cold denial made her stiffen in automatic defense. “Why not?”
She felt him take an emotional step back as their gazes battled for a long moment.
“Because I erased it.”