The Stranger In My Bed

The Real One

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.