Work Text
The slam of the front door reverberated through the house, punctuated by the shatter of something fragile falling off the wall from the force. Vlad flinched, feeling the echo of it inside his head. He waited until he heard the squeal of Elizabeth’s car tires hitting the tarmac, then went to inspect the damage. Shards of glass crunched under his shoes as Vlad stooped down to retrieve the photo frame that’d fallen by the door. It was one of their wedding portraits; he realized. Fitting, really. The silver casing fell apart in his hands, shedding more glass to reveal their youthful faces, crumpled and torn from the impact of the fall. He stared down at it, anger and grief warring inside his head.Elizabeth’s affairs were nothing new. He’d been putting up with his wife’s infidelity for the better of seventeen years, but this was the first time she’d had the gall to bring someone to the house. Or at least the gall not to hide it. He’d been gone by the time Vlad got home, though if the scent of male cologne hanging in the air and the forgotten tie half concealed under the couch was anything to go by, not by long. Elizabeth hadn’t even bothered to deny it. Simply arched an eyebrow at him, challenging him to say something. Vlad should have known better than to take the bait. He should have walked away and nursed his pain in private. But arguing seemed inevitable after the day he’d had between work and his father’s doctor appointment.If you could call the carnage, that’d ensued an argument.Insults had been hurled like hand grenades, old arguments dredged up and recycled for ammunition and aimed with ruthless calculation to cause maximum damage. It culminated in Elizabeth lining up her fatal parting shot: Love you? Don’t be ridiculous. You couldn’t pay anyone to love you. The worst part was she was probably right.Vlad turned, heading toward the kitchen. The broken frame made a satisfying clatter when it hit the bottom of the trash. Violent and destructive. But it wasn’t enough. None of this was enough. Rage burned through him, boiling over into an overwhelming, all-consuming misery that needed … something. Anything to make this feeling stop.Like an ill-fated sign, the light from a passing car seared through the kitchen window, illuminating the bottle of vodka Elizabeth had left sitting on the countertop. Vlad reached out, gripping the neck of the bottle like the lifeline it wasn’t. Vlad knew he shouldn’t. He was so close to getting his one-year sobriety chip. Again. But the clawing ache inside of him was desperate, and there was only one way he knew to make it stop. Resigned, Vlad hauled off with the bottle and went in search of oblivion. Oblivion was an app. A shiny, pretty dating app filled with shiny, scrolly people. No, wait. A shiny, scrolly dating app filled with shiny, pretty people. That was it. Even in his inebriated state, Vlad suspected the word “dating” was doing a lot of heavy lifting in the app descriptor. Taking another swig from the bottle, he paused, squinting when he realized it was already half gone. It’d been full when he’d started. How long had he been sitting on the floor scrolling through this app? It felt like only minutes. Or was it hours? Too long if he’d sunk half a bottle of vodka without noticing. He should probably stop.Probably.His phone buzzed in his hand, and Vlad dragged his bleary attention back to the app. Another profile was trying to match with him, and he clumsily swiped left to get rid of it. He’d filled out the bare minimum required to make an account, so anyone trying to match with a blank profile was a scammer or a bot. Not that Vlad was going to match with anyone. He’d just wanted to see how easy it would be if he did want to pay someone to love him—or at least provide the illusion of it. As it turned out, it was incredibly easy. Profile after profile whipped past as he scrolled indiscriminately, less tantalized and more casually intrigued by what appeared to be a whole online subculture that landed somewhere between dating and escorting. Sugar dating: where a richer, older person took care of a younger, less affluent individual for, well, Vlad wasn’t sure what the limits were, but he could guess. It was an intriguing concept. Paying not just for sex, but for an entire relationship. It wasn’t something he’d ever considered before.Why not? Sneered a nasty little thought that cut through the haze of alcohol with knife-bright clarity. Isn’t that what you have with Elizabeth?Vlad faltered, eyeing the bottle again. No, that wasn’t what he had with Elizabeth. For one thing, it would require her to pretend to like him, and she’d long since given up that façade. They were only still together after all these years because Vlad was too weak to walk away. Weak, pathetic, and in some small, fragile recess of his heart, desperate to be loved. If he just fixed himself. If he just did things right, maybe he’d be good enough…
You couldn’t pay anyone to love you…
Except nothing he did was ever enough. Vlad always failed, no matter what he did or how hard he tried—how much it hurt. Which begged the question, why did he even try anymore? What was the point? What was the point of staying sober? What was the point of anything anymore…Forgotten in his hand, Vlad’s phone buzzed, startling him into dropping it. He fumbled to pick it up, accidentally refreshing the page he’d been looking at. Not that it mattered. All the profiles had looked the same, anyway. A sea of pretty, pouting faces all staring at the camera with the same vacant look. It was almost like they taught classes on how to —Vlad stopped scrolling, his breath seizing in his chest.The page had reloaded, and in front of him was possibly one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. Her skin shone like burnished copper, and her hair fell around her shoulders in a golden cascade of voluminous curls. The profile picture afforded him a generous glimpse of ample cleavage, but it was her smile Vlad couldn’t stop staring at. Her smile was luminous, like bottled sunshine. And she was aiming it at someone over her shoulder. Vlad clicked, wanting to see more, but a pop-up informed him he’d need to match with her first. He hesitated, a sobering chill racing down his spine as he realized what he was about to do. He couldn’t match with someone. That would take this idle wander down drunken curiosity too far… wouldn’t it?He scrambled around in his scattershot brain for where his conscience ought to be. The answering silence was resounding. With the exhilaration of a man in moral free-fall, Vlad realized he didn’t care. Looking, he rationalized, was harmless. It was like admiring a good-looking person from across the street. And why should he feel bad about that? Sure, there were extra steps involved, but it wasn’t cheating. Not in the same way Elizabeth cheated on him over and over and over…It was just… looking.Before he could think about it anymore, Vlad swiped right. To his surprise, the profile unlocked immediately, granting him access. His eyes grew wide as the complete profile picture unfolded before him to reveal a handsome young man with stunning blue eyes and a disarming smile. His arm wrapped firmly around the woman’s waist, and Vlad realized they were a couple. A young, beautiful couple who radiated such joy, he couldn’t fathom what they were doing on an app like this. His eyes skipped to their bio, and Vlad got his answer. It read, “Bi x2. Open. She/her. He/him,” and there, nestled amidst a list of likes and hobbies that included their favorite colors and taking long walks in the park, was a list of kinks about as long as Vlad’s forearm. Chief among them: exhibitionism.Vlad felt his face burn hot, a throb of something unknown answering inside of him. He tried to quash it down but to little effect. That, he decided, was a problem for future Vlad. He read on, pausing to look up some of the more elusive terms. It did little to quell the sudden ache thrumming through him. He scrolled back up to their pictures, swiping through them. Most of them appeared to be of her, the photos showcasing her looks and her bright and vivacious character, too. She wasn’t above pulling silly faces for the camera, which Vlad found endearing on an app like this. So many of the portraits he’d scrolled through were flawless, artfully posed but slightly off-putting in their seriousness. He’d felt judged looking at them. Which likely said more about Vlad than the women themselves, but it was still nice to see someone goofing off. He scrolled some more. There was only one other picture of the younger man. He was sitting on a couch with his arm spread across the back and his knee drawn up to his chest. Vlad devoured him with his eyes, lingering on the broad line of his shoulders and what appeared to be a truly impressive physique under a skin-tight t-shirt. There was a languid, unselfconscious ease to his posture, but Vlad also noted the shy dip to his head. His gaze turned away from the camera as though bashful of the onlooker’s gaze. It was unbearably sweet for someone who had listed—Vlad rechecked the list of kinks—rope bondage and exhibitionism to be their favorite sex hobby. His eye caught on another line of text near the bottom, and the growing heat in his veins cooled.It read, “hey, uh, we’re fucking broke, but we’re kinda cute, right?”He clicked on the link underneath, and an Amazon wish list popped up. It was filled with college textbooks, a distressing amount of ramen noodles, and other cheap but shelf-stable foodstuffs that could last several months. There were one or two fun things. A few t-shirts, candy, and a gift card for Starbucks. But mostly, it was just… stuff. Groceries and books, and basic necessities Vlad took for granted every single day of his life. It made his heart hurt.He looked up from where he was sitting on the marble floor of the cavernous hallway. The drop crystals of the chandelier twinkled in the darkness, spinning gently. Or perhaps that was just the alcohol swimming through his system. Vlad knew the house was too big for two people, but that was what you did when you earned the kind of money he did. Not to mention his inheritance. Vlad could live to be two hundred and never burn through the money his grandfather had left him—though the Gods alone knew Elizabeth was trying.She’d been to Tiffany’s twice this month. Vlad had seen the charges to their bank account. Once for a pair of diamond stud earrings and then again later that week on a watch encrusted with diamonds, the numbers distinguished by a different diamond cut at each point. It cost more than what some people earned in a year. She’d shown both to him, and while Vlad agreed they were very pretty and complimented her accordingly, he’d bitten his tongue to keep from remarking that he didn’t think they were worth spending almost sixty thousand dollars on. No, he’d already lost that fight. What Elizabeth wanted, Elizabeth got. And here was a pair of broke college students, selling selfies and Gods knew what else through a sketchy app for groceries and college books…Vlad squinted at the list, weighing his options. “Fuck it.”He went down the list of items and added them to his cart. As an afterthought, he left a note in the gift note section. He didn’t even bother to check the cost. It was a drop in the ocean, but hopefully, it’d make them smile. The thought sent a giddy twist through his stomach. He liked the idea of them smiling. People deserved to smile more.They also deserved to not wake up in the morning with an aching back because their pushing forty-year-old ass had fallen asleep on the floor. With a muted groan, Vlad put away his phone and struggled to his feet. He was halfway up the stairs to his bedroom when he realized he’d forgotten the bottle of vodka on the floor.He left it there. ✨ Two days later, and halfway across the city, Nathan was getting ready to head to the store. His progress was hindered, however, by the mountain of boxes sitting on their doorstep. “Uh… Sue?”His girlfriend appeared around the bathroom door, toothbrush still in her mouth. “Hwaht?” Nathan gestured to the impassible blockade, and Ursula’s eyes grew wide. She vanished behind the bathroom door again, then reemerged, wiping toothpaste from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. “What the fuck?”“That’s what I was about to ask you,” Nathan said.“Don’t look at me,” she said defensively. “I didn’t buy anything.”“Well, someone did,” Nathan replied.“Maybe it’s a mistake,” Ursula mused, tapping a finger against her chin. “I mean, it must be. Unless…”“Unless what?” Nathan asked.Ursula turned bright, suddenly mischievous eyes toward him. “Unless someone bought out our wish list on the sugaring app.”Nathan watched as she pried loose a package from the middle of the tower of boxes, like the world’s biggest game of Jenga. “What, all of it?”She held a smaller box up to her ear and shook it. “Can you think of a better explanation? And look, see, it’s addressed to us.”Nathan lifted another box from the top of the pile before Ursula could cause an avalanche. Bracing it against the doorjamb and his knee, he pried open the box to reveal… “College books,” he said, both surprised and pleased.“Good news, you don’t need to go to the store!” Ursula informed him from the floor as she held up the contents of her own box. “We’ve got ramen for lunch.”Nathan snorted and turned his gaze back to the tower of boxes. “Right, well. I’ll bring all this in if you want to boil some water. Though God knows where we’re going to put it…”Some twenty minutes and a bowl of spicy noodles later, the pair sat in the cardboard-covered carnage of their apartment like the world’s most chaotic Christmas.“It’s everything,” Nathan said in disbelief, staring at the hoard of books, clothing, food, and candy that surrounded them. It was a small fortune’s worth of stuff; the books alone cost several hundred dollars. Nathan dreaded to think what it’d all cost together. And it’d all come from the same person, the same white gift note fluttering out of the packages with the same brief note.“Pick something nice next time. ~ V.”Nathan stared at it.“Who the fuck is ‘V’?”“Does it matter?” Ursula cackled, visibly giddy with glee. In front of her on the coffee table was a small treasure trove of Starbucks cards. She was going to be so over-caffeinated later. “He’s clearly taken a shine to us.”“He?” Nathan asked.Ursula shrugged and reached for the open packet of red licorice Nathan had already started working on. She chewed on it thoughtfully. “I could be wrong. But statistically speaking, V is more likely to be male. You don’t get too many Sugar Mommy’s on that app.”Nathan nodded, fiddling awkwardly with his hearing aid. He didn’t have much else to contribute. Nathan was new to all of this. The sugaring thing. Ursula had been doing it on and off for years, using it to pay her way through college and fund her aerial hooping hobby long before they’d met. She’d suggested it to him while watching a movie together in bed. Nathan had been skeptical about it at first, but it made sense. They already indulged in their mutual exhibitionism kink online. Why not get paid for it too? Maybe use it to pay off his tuition and save some money. They’d been doing it for a couple of months, and nothing had happened beyond a few fizzled-out interactions. But this, this was different.This was intense.“Hey,” Ursula nudged him with her shoulder. “You okay?”Nathan smiled quickly and patted her on the knee. “Yeah, I’m fine. This is just… a lot.”“It is,” Ursula agreed, already finished with her piece of candy and now scrolling determinedly through her phone. “Aha, found him.”She flipped her phone over so Nathan could look at it. The screen showed their sugaring profile and the list of people they’d matched with. Several names from the top, underneath ‘DaddyDom762’ and ‘MastrDddy’ sat a single, solitary letter.V.It looked lonely in its singularity. There was no pretense, no posturing in the name. No domineering quotes in the bio. Just an empty profile picture and a simple statement of gender—male. Everything else was hidden, like he didn’t want to be seen. And yet, he’d grabbed their attention in the flashiest, most unignorable way possible.Nathan wondered if that was intentional.“I wonder what he wants,” he said aloud, handing Ursula back her phone.“Oh, that’s easy. He already told us,” Ursula said. Nathan stared at her in confusion. Ursula held up one of the many slips of paper that’d fallen out of the boxes, a Cheshire Cat grin spreading across her face as she waggled it under his nose. “He wants us to pick something nice.”Two days later, another package showed up, containing a fancy set of LED poi sticks Ursula had been coveting for almost a year. Her squeal of joy was infectious, and Nathan dutifully followed her outside to watch her practice, enamored with both her happiness and the skillful way she twirled them, creating arcs of changing color in the air as she moved. When she was distracted by the apartment complex kids who’d come out to watch the impromptu show, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the slip of paper he’d brought down with him. Grateful for the deepening shadows that would hide the blush coloring his cheeks, Nathan reread the note.“Good. Much better. -V.”Oh, what the fuck were they getting themselves into? “Do you think he’s lonely?” Ursula asked one night, her fingers trailing across Nathan’s bare chest as they lay together in bed.“Who?” Nathan asked, though he really didn’t need to. There was only one other him they talked about these days.“Mister V,” Ursula replied, using the moniker they’d given their mysterious benefactor when they both agreed that calling him ‘V’ sounded too impersonal. Especially for someone who’d been sending them a steady stream of gifts for the last two months.Nathan shrugged. “Aren’t most of the men who sign up to be Sugar Daddies?”Ursula frowned—he could hear it in her voice, even without his hearing aids. “Not all of them. But yeah… I guess. It’s just…”“Just what?” Nathan asked, realizing he wasn’t going to get any sleep until Ursula had worked out whatever thought was slowly percolating in her head.“It’s just we never talk to him. I know he sends us the notes, and we post on the app, but…” Ursula trailed off, and Nathan twisted around to look at her. She seemed genuinely perturbed. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth.“But what?”“I don’t know. It’s bugging me. I feel like we should do more for him.”Nathan fell silent. Truthfully, he’d been thinking the same thing. Which was absurd because this was the dream, wasn’t it? To have some rich guy buy them stuff without asking for anything in return. Wasn’t this what sugar babies wanted? Wasn’t it what they hoped and prayed for? A generous benefactor who gave everything and asked for nothing in return. Nathan had thought so, but then he’d also thought he was straight until he went to college. He had to admit the lopsided nature of their interactions was bothering him more than he thought it would. Likely not for the same reason it bothered Ursula, but because he couldn’t figure out what the other man was getting out of it. Aside from a hefty Amazon bill. Laughably, Nathan suspected he’d be happier if they were sending Mister V lewds or just… something. Anything to make their exchange feel fair.“Well, what do you want to do about it?”Ursula made a casual noise that said she had an idea, but was trying very hard to be normal about it. “I thought we could reach out to him. Maybe invite him to a private dinner and a show.”Nathan snorted. “Dinner and a show” was the code phrase they used for their online cam sessions. That she wanted to make it a private one was new, but Nathan found he didn’t mind the idea. The exact opposite, in fact.“Sounds formal,” he replied.“So does he,” Ursula countered, and Nathan conceded. The little notes Mister V sent them were curiously polite and always perfectly punctuated. A formal invitation would likely go down well.“All right,” he said, “but how do we do that? He’s got the sugaring app locked. We can’t send him a message.”“I don’t know,” Ursula admitted, her face turning down into a frown. “I hadn’t got that far yet.”Nathan thought about it. “We could always just hack into Amazon,” he suggested, smiling when he heard her soft huff of laughter. “Find out who he is; send him a message that way.”Ursula opened her mouth, then paused. “Wait, say that again.”“I said we could hack into Amazon, but Sue, I cannot stress enough how much I was kidding—”“No, I know that.” She dismissed him with a hand wave, struggling upright and reaching for his laptop at the end of the bed. “I meant the part about using Amazon to send him a message.”“And how are we going to do that?”“Simple!” she replied, her expression bright and full of determination as she dumped the computer into Nathan’s lap. “It’s your turn to pick something nice.” ✨ The following day, Vlad sat in his office, eyeing the lunch Swithin had forcefully slammed down on his desk. For being a personal assistant in Vlad’s employ, the older man was not shy about voicing his opinions. And apparently, admitting he’d forgone breakfast, and that Vlad intended to work through lunch, was a mistake. The other man had even taken Vlad’s keyboard with him. Like a naughty child being put in a timeout until he ate his vegetables. Vlad picked despondently at the food on his plate, trying to think about anything other than the stomach-churning level of work he still had to get through. The ongoing talks with Ingleton Industries consumed every spare minute of his day. And the app they were trying to push out the door had hit another roadblock. Elizabeth had texted him this morning, too, wanting to go to the car dealership. Vlad had shot that down quickly. Her car was less than a year old, and there was nothing wrong with it, but the Gods knew what kind of argument was waiting for him at home.It was sheer muscle memory that prompted him to pick up his phone as he ate, seeking distraction in the mindless scroll of social media. He was almost done eating when he checked his personal email and realized they’d updated their wish list again. Vlad clicked on the link, his mood brightening in an instant. He still felt naughty doing this. Like he was doing something totally undefendable and wrong. Which was silly because nothing illicit had come of it. Not really. There were a few pictures here and there on the app that made his heart skip a beat, and if you twisted his arm, Vlad might admit there was a certain thrill to buying them whatever they wanted. But it was harmless. They got nice things, and Vlad got to feel good for a while. It was a win-win situation. Except, it seemed, for today. He frowned, realizing they hadn’t added an item but an “I want” note that required you to know their address. Two of them, in fact. Disappointed, Vlad was about to click away when his eye caught the first line of the note, and his heart constricted in his chest.Dear Mister. V, it read. Thank you for all the lovely gifts. They are v. much appreciated. My partner and I were hoping to give you something in return. Just a little something to show how much we appreciate your time and attention. If you would like to accept this invitation…The message cut off, and Vlad scrolled to the next one.
Please meet us at this [link] tonight at 8 pm. To enter the chat, input your password. The phrase is your most recent gift to us. If you don’t want to come, please disregard this as a simple gesture of good faith and no hard feelings. Hope to meet your acquaintance properly soon.
Kind regards and MUCH enthusiasm, U & N. x.
Vlad stared at it and said the only thing he could think of.
“
Fuck.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Vlad’s hands shook as he hovered over the cursor over the link. He’d told himself he wouldn’t go through with this. He’d promised himself he’d stop before things got out of hand. Like most things in Vlad’s life, however, the proverbial point of no return had snuck up on him, and now the proverbial thin ice of impending disaster was creaking beneath his feet.He cycled through his thoughts. Trying to figure out how things had gotten so out of hand. It’d all seemed so innocuous at first. After his initial binge of their wish list, they’d uploaded a few more things. Trivial items like extra college books, candy, and the odd item of clothing, enabling him to send a steady trickle of gifts. The most recent addition was a Starbucks gift card that’d resulted in the most offensive whipped cream frappe disasters to have ever happened to coffee popping up on their profile page. The caption read, “had coffee today!!! Thank you, Mister V!!!” in neon rainbow font, followed by a string of sparkling emojis. It’d made Vlad laugh, an inexplicable heat rising on his face at knowing that somewhere out there, someone was having a Good Day, because of him.Though it wasn’t always so tame.He’d almost spent himself the first time they uploaded a picture of themselves wearing the graphic t-shirts he’d sent them. Trapped at work, Vlad found himself gripped by a searing-hot gratification that had nowhere to go, both satisfying and arousing all at once. It was a euphoric sort of torment, like scratching an itch that was just out of reach. Maddening and addictive.Which was the entire crux of the problem.Vlad was no stranger to addiction. He’d been struggling with it in some form or other since his early teens, always needing to chase the next high. Anything to lessen the painful weight of the world pressing in on him. This also meant he knew all the signs and symptoms of becoming reliant on something for a fix, and while he was technically sober, it was only because he’d found another high to chase. Granted, it was the kind of high that didn’t endanger anyone or result in him waking up in strange places without his car keys. But it was still intoxicating all the same, and Vlad felt a keen sense of guilt every time he showed up at his AA meetings and claimed another chip. His sponsor, Allan, thought he was doing wonderfully, but that was because he hadn’t seen Vlad’s Amazon purchase history. Yet even knowing that it was becoming a problem, Vlad kept finding reasons to justify it. After all, it wasn’t like he was buying these things for himself. He wasn’t hoarding things the way his father’s second wife had, filling the Blutstein manor with a plethora of trinkets and baubles that the third wife had swept into the trash with as much afterthought as emptying an ashtray. And surely that was better? It had to be better to buy gifts for other people than for himself. They weren’t even really gifts. They were necessities. He was helping them with things they needed. It was practically selfless.Maybe. If you squinted. And removed all sense of moral reasoning.It wasn’t as though the money was an issue either. Vlad could keep up this level of extra spending indefinitely and never make a dent in his paycheck, never mind his inheritance. God alone knew what he spent on them in a week; Elizabeth could burn through in an hour at lunch. He didn’t even feel guilty about keeping it from her. If she could run around, spending his money, coming home at all hours of the morning with another man’s teeth imprinted on her neck, Vlad could indulge in his own little (comparatively) harmless secret. He'd rationalized it as impersonal. A harmless little spending spree that really didn't impact anything. And then they’d sent him that damn invite link, shattering the careful illusion of distance he’d created for himself. Faced with reality, Vlad was forced to admit yet again that he was in over his head and he needed to bring this dalliance to an end. It’d been a fun distraction while it lasted, but all good things came to an eventual end. He’d been so determined, too. He’d even typed up a polite, short decline on the app when his PA, Swithin, buzzed him and reminded Vlad of a meeting, forcing him to abandon it. Vlad told himself he’d do it later. Except later got away from him, and then he’d forgotten Elizabeth would be home tonight, and after another spat where civil pleasantries were discharged like shrapnel… Well, here he was.“Fuck it,” Vlad muttered in the darkness, and clicked the link. An innocuous blank page popped up in his browser, prompting him for a username and password. He already knew the password: gift card. Unless they meant the last physical thing he’d sent them, in which case, Vlad had his browsing history open. However, Vlad couldn’t figure out what to do about his name. He couldn’t use his real one. It was far too rare on this side of the Empire and too well known not to be found with a simple Google search. He thought about shortening it to V, but that sounded too impersonal. Ominous, even, in its singularity.Vlad sighed and tapped his phone. The sugaring app opened on his screen, and the image of that ridiculous coffee greeted him, along with the even more absurd moniker they’d given him. Mister V.Vlad stared at it, feeling the gears turn over in his brain. Yes. That’d do.Gathering his nerve, Vlad typed in his details, and then, because he was a coward, covered his eyes and hit enter. ✨ “He’s not coming.” Ursula pouted.Pausing in his quest to kiss every inch of her neck, Nathan glanced reflexively at the alarm clock on their bedside table. The neon green numbers glared through the dim light of their bedroom, blinking the time. “It’s only been five minutes, love. Give him some time.”“How much time?”Nathan laughed at her impatience. Ursula never did like to wait for things. “I don’t know. Ten more minutes? He might have stuff to do or be stuck in traffic. For all we know, he’s Batman.”“Bruce Wayne has a lot of money,” Ursula agreed, chewing on the ragged nail of her thumb before tapping the screen of her laptop open again. “I just… I don’t want him not to show up.”“I know,” Nathan said. He rubbed soothing circles over her back. “He’s been very nice to you.”“To us,” Ursula corrected him instantly, turning to look at him over her brown, freckled shoulder. “He’s been good to us. We’re a package deal, remember?”“To us,” Nathan amended, using the moment to steal a kiss from her upturned mouth. She gave him a light swot on the chest, and Nathan realized belatedly that he was wearing the t-shirt Mister V had sent him from their wish list. He didn’t get the same thrill from this sort of thing as Ursula. She was made to be spoiled and adored and was never more in her element when she had someone wrapped around her little finger. But it’d be a lie to say the knowledge that he was wearing something the other man bought for him didn’t send a little zing of something down his spine. Like a mark of ownership. Which was a new kink for Nathan to unpack at some point, though not right now. Carrying on, he said, “But you also need to accept he might want nothing else from this, y’know? He might just be in it to burn money.”Ursula sighed, sounding dejected. “I know.”“Hey, c’mon.” He gave Ursula a playful jostle, sliding his hand under the soft fabric of her t-shirt. His shirt, in fact. One of the old soft ones she’d stolen the moment they’d moved in together. The heathered fabric swamped her, sliding off her shoulders to hang mercilessly off her curvacious frame. It made Nathan weak at the knees whenever she ran around the apartment, wearing nothing but one of his old shirts and a wicked smile. She knew it, too. He swept her unruly mane of blonde hair out of the way and placed another kiss on the side of her neck. “Just because he’s a no-show now doesn’t mean he’ll always be a no-show,” he said, letting his hands roam over the soft roundness of her body. “I’m sure he’s just busy, and it’s not like we gave him much notice. He’s probably got rich man shit to do.”“Yeah.” Ursula sighed again, leaning receptively into his touch and arching her back as his palm came up to cup the swell of her breast. Taking this for further incentive, Nathan hauled her bodily into his lap. “Hey!” Ursula squealed, wriggling for all she was worth.“Hey, what?” Nathan chuckled, grazing his teeth over the side of her throat as his other hand drifted lower between her legs.“Nothing,” Ursula breathed out, canting into his touch. “It’s a shame, really,” she said, reaching out to close the laptop lid. No point leaving it open if there was no one to watch. “I did my hair and everything.”The laptop pinged. Both lovers froze, their eyes swiveling down in unison to the screen and the blinking chatbox.
Mister V said:
And very pretty it is, too.
Mister V said:
Oh dear, please don’t stop on my account. Things were just getting interesting.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Vlad sat frozen against the headboard, watching the delectable tableau unfold on his screen. Oh, he was going to Hell. He was absolutely one hundred percent going to the bad place. He’d always known this—he’d done too many questionable things in his life to make it to the other place. But it’d never been more apparent than at this moment. Or perhaps he was already there. It certainly felt like an exquisite form of torture to only look without touching.Vlad slunk lower against the headboard, tipping his laptop screen closer on his knees. He watched entranced as the pair chatted back and forth, kissing and touching with the gentle tenderness of two people very much in love. He felt heat rising on his cheeks and spared a guilty glance toward his bedroom door. It was firmly closed, and there was no one home to interrupt him, but he still felt like he was doing something wrong. Like he was about to get caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Or, more likely, with his hand on his cock.The sound of laughter dragged his eyes back to the screen. “U,” as she’d identified herself, was stunning to behold. Vlad knew this already from her pictures, but nothing could have prepared him for the reality of just how beautiful she was in motion. Her hair was the stuff of Renaissance paintings. It made him want to find his paintbrushes and paint poetry out of her ringlets: voluminous and wild, with varying shades of color fading out of the golden tresses. There was a wicked tilt to her smile, a wry curl that made him think of the cat that caught the canary. She was also wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt, and Vlad was afforded a generous glimpse of supple brown skin as it slid from shoulder to shoulder. An impressive display of body art was visible too, and Vlad caught himself admiring the sleeve of pink blooms rendered lifelike under the skin of her left arm. Everything about her exuded a bold sense of comfort within herself. Even the scar under her left eye was incorporated into her makeup, accentuated rather than hidden.Vlad could only admire and somewhat envy her confidence.“N” was just as equally stunning, and Vlad could finally admire the handsome physique that’d hitherto remained mostly hidden, save for a single photo on their sugaring profile. Shaggy brown hair fell boyishly into his face, framing piercing blue eyes that shone with disarming honesty. He was also built like a brick house, and Vlad’s mouth ran dry at the sight of a graphic t-shirt pulled obscenely tight over his chest and biceps. It wasn’t just any t-shirt, however. It was the one Vlad sent him from their wish list. A low, guttural sound escaped the back of his throat, a shocking wave of possessiveness bubbling over in his chest. It was supplanted mere seconds later by a searing-hot wave of arousal as U was pulled into N’s lap with a squeal that short-circuited something in Vlad’s brain. He was just wondering when he should make himself known when he spied a slender brown hand moving toward the top of the camera, as though they were about to close the laptop lid. Startled out of his enthralled inertia, Vlad typed the first thing that came to mind. Then cringed at how awful and embarrassing it sounded. The couple froze on the screen, and Vlad felt a renewed guilty flush rise over his cheeks at intruding on their moment like the voyeuristic interloper he was. However, it was short-lived as the camera tilted at an alarming angle, followed by another brain-melting squeal.“You’re here!” U exclaimed, and Vlad found himself looking into the face of happiness personified. No one ever smiled at him like that. Like they had the entire sun shining out of them. It was breathtaking. “Hold on, let me put you somewhere safe. There.” The screen was righted once more, and she gave the edge of the laptop an adorable little pat. “How’s that?”Suddenly the sole focus of her attention, Vlad found he couldn’t remember how words worked. Very safe, he typed back after an awkward pause. Thank you.Contrary to every experience of his life to date, U laughed as though he’d said something genuinely witty and funny. Her cheeks dimpled sweetly as she continued to stare up at the camera as though she could see into his soul. “You’re welcome. Now, first things first. My name’s Ursula, and this is Nathan. Nate and Sue also work.”Behind her, Nathan gave Vlad a lazy salute of a wave. It might have been Vlad projecting, but he thought the younger man looked almost shy, though it wasn’t quite the right word. His demeanor was undoubtedly more closed off than it’d been a moment ago, but then Vlad supposed he’d surprised them. They certainly hadn’t been acting like they’d known anyone was watching them, and he figured there was a difference between being intimate with your partner in private and being intimate with them in front of an audience you didn’t know was there.He’d have to make up for that, somehow.It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance; finally, he typed back, stalling on what to say next. The thought of introducing himself as ‘Mister V’ made his soul want to leave his body. So, it was fortunate Ursula did it for him.“And we know who you are, Mister V.” Somehow, it didn’t sound awful when she said it. In fact, it sounded affectionate. More than that, she made it sound sexy. Charming, even.Vlad snorted. Of course, it did. It was supposed to sound sexy and affectionate. Just like they were supposed to laugh at his jokes and smile and make him feel special. It was all part of the deal. Vlad had read through enough sugaring forums over the last few months to know that. Despite knowing this, however, he found he didn’t care. So what if it was an act? So what if they were only smiling and laughing because of what they could get out of him? His marriage was no different. Elizabeth told him often enough the only reason she stayed with him was his money. And she certainly didn’t smile while she did it. As far as Vlad was concerned, this was better. And if he was honest, he liked that part of it too. Vlad enjoyed buying them things. He got off on showering them with gifts. Daydreamed about it, got hard and high just thinking about it. And if that earned him an occasional glimpse of Ursula’s smile over a grainy webcam feed now and then, it was entirely worth it.
He should buy them a better webcam…
Vlad blinked, realizing he’d zoned out of the conversation and hadn’t heard a single thing Ursula just said.“—didn’t think you were going to show.” She laughed prettily, her mouth lifting in a soft curl that was both mischievous and coy at once. “If we’d known you were coming, we’d have waited.”It took him a moment to comprehend she was flirting with him, and Vlad let out a despairing laugh at how far out of his depth he was. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d flirted with anyone. Sure, he spent most of his professional life tightrope walking the fine, precarious line between manipulation and flattery every day. The kind of money VampTech earned wasn’t built on hard work and honesty. And while Vlad was a mere specter of his father’s old-fashioned charm, he was actually pretty good at it. But he was never sincere about it. Ursula was, though. Vlad could see it in the nervous flutter of her eyelashes. The hesitant way her smile dropped, then lifted. She was waiting for him to respond. She wanted him to flirt back, and Vlad didn’t know what to do with that. Elizabeth didn’t even smile at him anymore unless she was about to say something awful. And even then, they still ended up fucking. Elizabeth, Vlad realized, who was out having a good time, who knew where or with whom, and who would come home expecting to find him waiting in their old bedroom. Meek and contrite. Desperate for any kind of touch. Even if it was hateful.Vlad bit his lip.He wondered briefly what it would be like for her to come home and find him missing.I can only apologize for being so tardy. I had some things to attend to that detained me. He typed back, allowing himself to relax and assume the role of the elusive and charming persona they’d given him. Mister V. After all, it wasn’t as though this was anything serious. This was just a one-off.Just like the rest of it.“What sort of things?” Ursula asked with adorable perkiness.Vlad grinned, realizing the perfect reply. Rich man shit.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Despite the way things started, nothing else happened that night. At least, nothing sexual. They’d talked into the wee small hours of the morning until Vlad realized Ursula was listing, her smile and gaze growing hazy with exhaustion. It’d felt torturous calling a halt to their conversation. But Vlad supposed someone had to be the responsible adult in the room, and for once, it might as well be him. Ursula made him promise they’d do it again sometime. Like old friends agreeing to meet for coffee instead of strangers sitting in their underwear, sharing witty banter under the blue-tinged glow of their laptop screens. Vlad had agreed. Both to get her to go to bed and because he wanted so very much to get to know them better.Nathan, Vlad learned, was a Socio-Economics major going back to school to pursue a post-grad in Sports Medicine. On the other hand, Ursula seemed to collect degrees the way other people did bad habits. He’d been impressed as she ticked off her multiple bachelor’s degrees. Impressed and more than a bit despairing about their finances. Two liberal arts students, one who was going back to school for post-grad, and one who seemed to be a professional undergrad. No wonder they were broke.Broke, impossibly beautiful, and his.That last part wasn’t true, but Vlad allowed the fantasy to linger in his veins a little longer, anyway. It’d been a surprisingly satisfying encounter for all that it was. Vlad had gone to bed with a smile on his face, feeling warm and fuzzy all over. He’d woken briefly when Elizabeth returned home. It was the silence that alerted him. The sound of her bedroom door opening, followed by the ominous quiet when she realized he wasn’t there to greet her. She’d slammed the door shut after that, the sound echoing through the slumbering house like thunder. Vlad had lain still in the aftermath, waiting for his heart to climb back down out of his throat as he talked himself out of going to check on her. After all, he’d come home to an empty house often enough over the years. Elizabeth would get over it. Probably just as soon as she took his credit card to Tiffany’s.Waking up for work on such little sleep ought to have been torturous, but Vlad had managed it. He’d even caught himself whistling. It was ridiculous how good he was feeling. Try as he might, however, Vlad couldn’t shake the image of Nathan and Ursula sitting beside each other. The way they smiled at each other and the lingering glances and touches they shared without thinking. They were sickeningly in love; that much was clear. Vlad couldn’t help but struggle to reconcile that with what they’d told him about their open dynamic, but he supposed it took all kinds to make the world go around. They seemed happy enough, which he supposed was all that mattered. And they’d invited him to be a part of it, even for just a little while. It felt like an immense privilege, and Vlad clutched it close to his chest all morning like a happy secret. Around one, Swithin appeared and forced him to break for lunch by shoving an open-faced sandwich over his keyboard. It was sheer reflex that prompted Vlad to open their wish list on his phone and scroll through the meager contents. They’d been updating it more slowly of late—a few more books and what appeared to be a distressing amount of instant ramen noodles. Idly, Vlad wondered if it might not be better to set up an actual grocery service for them, although perhaps a charge card might work best. That way, they could buy things without needing to wait for him. He was halfway through opening an appointment with his accountant to do just that when he realized what he was doing.Vlad was behaving like his father.He recoiled so hard his chair rolled back from his desk, spiralling toward the expanse of glass at his back and the dizzying drop to the city below. How could he do that? How could he just behave like his father and not notice? The thought made him physically ill, and he doubled over in his chair, sucking down oxygen from between his knees as he fought the swell of nausea threatening to roll over him. Without even thinking, he’d assumed a role of authority in their lives and inserted himself in a position of support. Of dependency. And he’d done it as easily as breathing. Except now Vlad didn’t feel like he could breathe at all. He stood up, prying his necktie and flinging it away as he paced blindly around the room.The one thing he’d always promised himself was that he wouldn’t turn out like his father. Vlad’s formative years hadn’t been particularly happy. After his mother's death. his childhood had become a revolving carousel of interchangeable mother figures. A colorful array of Stepford Wife hopefuls, all vying to become the next Madame Blutstein. It’d left a lasting impression on Vlad, leaving him both jaded about love but also aware of just how vicious his father truly was. Anton Blutstein was a man of many vices. Cheif among them, he enjoyed treating people like things he could buy. Affection and loyalty were all for sale as far as he was concerned. He also enjoyed holding his wealth over people’s heads to garner control, a fact teenage Vlad had become all too familiar with when his father started threatening to withhold money from him if Vlad didn’t do as he was told. And while his situation with Nathan and Ursula was different, there was no denying the disturbing parallels in his behavior. It made him feel filthy. Predatory. Not even haunting the sugaring forums had made him feel so vile. But he also couldn’t just ghost them, could he? Wouldn’t that be behaving more like his father? Playing with them and dropping them the moment it became inconvenient.Was he really like that? Was he just like his father, after all?Vlad turned to face his desk, and his eyes landed on the silver picture frames that passed for the Blutstein family photos. There was one of him and Elizabeth on their wedding day, impossibly young and smiling a little too rigid to be natural but not yet filled with the poisonous hatred they held for each other now. Beside it sat a faded photo of his mother, her expression soft and sad like it always was. The third and final frame, both the largest and gaudiest, contained the most recent family portrait taken ten years earlier—a frozen facsimile of happy family life. Vlad reached for it and sat back down at his desk. He scanned over the familiar faces, noting not for the first time the ever-present scowl on his father’s face. Vlad’s stepmother, Lady Margarete, sat rigidly beside him, her expression pleasant but vacant, one of her many small, yappy dogs in her lap. Vlad was seated on her other side, a thinner, more drawn carbon copy of his father; the dark circles under his eyes were evidence of the week-long bender he’d just emerged from. Elizabeth sat beside him, smiling brightly, her hand in his, and her body turned so far away from him she was in danger of falling out of her seat. And there, sitting smack bang in the middle of the floor with her hair pulled up in fluffy pigtails and her dark skin covered in a sheen of glitter, Riya’s face beamed out at him. Vlad swiped an affectionate thumb over her dark features, smiling. He still remembered that trip fondly, though somewhat hazily. He’d gone back to rehab the following week. It’d been one of the last few family vacations they’d had before Riya ran off to college, came out, and ran away to Steocidell with her girlfriend. Their father had been furious and cut off her allowance. Riya hadn’t asked him to, but Vlad had quietly stepped in and paid both her rent and tuition those first few years. Anything to keep her out of harm’s way. It’d been five years now since she’d last been home.God, he missed her.Vlad stared at the photo, then reached for his cell phone. He was surprised when it rang only twice before it was picked up on the other end.“Vladdy?!”“Hello, Kitty,” he greeted his sister’s girlfriend. “Is Riya there?”“Hang on; I’ll take you to her. She’s in the bath.”Vlad glanced at his wristwatch and did the math. “It’s four in the afternoon there. Don’t tell me you’re both just getting up?”“Oh no, we’ve been up for hours,” Kitty enthused around a yawn. “You know what it’s like, though. Late hours, busy nights. The life and crimes of being an Instagram model.”Vlad hesitated. “Crimes?”“Did I say that?” Kitty laughed. “How silly of me. Anyway, here she is. Oh. She’s under the water; hang on. Riya. Riya! It’s Vladdy. No, I don’t think anyone’s dead. Well, I don’t know, I didn’t ask. Vlad? Still there?”“Yes.”“Hold on; she’s wrapping her hair. Okay, handing you over now. Come see us sometime, okay-love-you-bye!” “Vlad?”“Riya.” Vlad greeted her, feeling some of the tension ease in his chest. “How are you?”“Fine. What’s wrong?”Vlad laughed, straining for levity. “Why do you assume something has to be wrong? Can’t your big brother call you to catch up?”The silence on the other end of the line was deafening. Vlad caved.“Riya… did… did I turn into Father?”“Oh, for fuck’s sake. What did he say now?” She sounded ready to fight the world on his behalf if she had to. “You know you can’t listen to anything he says. He’s toxic, Vladdy. He uses you to project his own internalized self-loathing. I wish you’d see that therapist I found for you….”Vlad sighed and reached for his cigarette case. He wasn’t supposed to smoke in the building, but right now, he was willing to pay the fine if he got caught. “No, it’s not him. It’s… something else.”“All right, what did she say?” Riya demanded, refusing even to call Elizabeth by her name. “It’s not her either. Not exactly.” Vlad pinched the bridge of his nose. He shouldn’t have called her. Tolerant as his baby sister was of his disastrous life choices; this wasn’t something she should be helping him with. And yet, he had no one else he could talk to. “Riya,” Vlad began again, lowering his voice. “If… if you were me and you met someone…”There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by a heavy creak as though she’d just sat down. “Vlad,” she said, her voice lowering to a scandalized whisper. “Are you cheating on Elizabeth?”Vlad felt another wave of nausea roll over him. “I don’t know,” he admitted, swallowing thickly. “It’s not physical. It never will be. But I met some people and—”“People?” Riya interjected. “As in plural?”“A couple,” Vlad clarified, realizing he’d yet to light his cigarette and was instead holding it wedged between his fingers like a security blanket. “A younger couple. In an open relationship.”“Gosh. Okay, uh, where did you meet them? Work?”Vlad snorted. “Ha. No.”“At the club?”“God, no.” Vlad laughed again. The very idea of Ursula and Nathan belonging to their family’s stuffy country club was so far removed from reality it might as well belong in a parallel universe where vampires and werewolves existed.“Well, where then?”Vlad took a steadying breath, his voice rising into a strangled, preemptive apology for what he was about to say. “Have you heard of a website called Sugar Daddy dot com?”There was a lengthy pause on the other end of the line, then Vlad jerked the phone away from his ear at the unexpected sound of Riya’s explosive cackle. “Oh my God! You're a sugar daddy? Vlad! Oh! Can I tell Kitty? I have to tell Kitty!”“I’d rather you didn’t—” Vlad began, but it was too late. He heard Kitty’s delighted shriek of laughter, followed by a jubilant squeal of “a sugar Vladdy!” before the two young women dissolved into hysterics. “Well,” Vlad said over the sound of their laughter. “It’s been lovely, but I have to throw myself out the window now. I’ll talk to you later.”“No! Oh, no, Vlad. I’m sorry.” It sounded like Riya might be wiping tears from her eyes. “Don’t go; I’m sorry. You just startled me. Of all the things I was expecting you to say, that wasn’t it.” She gave another choke of laughter, then recovered. “But I know you wouldn’t be telling me this if it wasn’t important. So, how long has this been a thing?”“It’s fine.” Vlad sighed, twirling the still unlit cigarette between his fingertips. “It’s been a couple of months. Maybe three? We only just started talking.”“And you said they were younger?”Vlad winced. “Yes. College students. Well, post-grad. Not that that makes it any better.”“Sure, it does!” Kitty’s disembodied voice floated over the line. “There’s a huge difference between dating undergrad and post-grad. They’re like, what, late twenties? Maybe even thirty?”“Probably,” Vlad agreed, realizing he didn’t know. That was probably something he should find out. “Doesn’t matter, though. I’m almost forty. Either way, that’s a hell of a gap.”“So? My first boyfriend was forty when I started dating, and I was nineteen.”“And that’s horrifying,” Vlad said, though not unkindly. His judgment wasn’t aimed at her. “I never wanted to be that kind of old man.”“But you’re not,” Kitty insisted, then hesitated. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling us….”“No! God, no.”“Well then, are they cute?”“They’re adorable.” Vlad sighed, listing forward until he could rest his head on the cool wood of his desk. “Especially with each other. I know it sounds ridiculous. I don’t even know how it happened. No, that’s a lie. I did it to spite Lizzy for something she said.”“Not exactly a good reason to do something,” Riya reminded him. Vlad let his head thud against the desk.“I know, I know. It wasn’t supposed to go this far. It was just… It was meant to be a distraction. Nothing serious. But…”“You like them, don’t you?” Riya asked.“I do,” Vlad admitted, feeling something like relief flutter in his chest at being able to say it. “I like them a lot. And I want… more, I think? I don’t know.”“What do you think you want?”Vlad wrangled his thoughts into order, trying to pin them down. “I want to take care of them. And I can do that! I have the means to remove a sizeable chunk of hardship from their lives. I don’t want them to have to worry or struggle. I want to help make them happy. Is that… is that weird?”“If you’re asking me if it’s weird to want to help people, then no, obviously,” Riya said diplomatically. “If you’re asking me if I think it’s creepy and exploitive, well, are you being creepy?”“No!” Vlad sat up straight, gripped by a sudden new panic. “At least, I hope not.”“Well, what kind of arrangement do you have?”“What do you mean?”“I mean, what do you get out of this?”Vlad frowned. “Get?”“Yes, Vlad. What are you getting? These types of relationships tend to be transactional, so what are they doing in exchange for whatever you’re giving them?”Vlad opened and closed his mouth like a fish. “I don’t… know.”Riya sighed patiently. “Vlad, what are you doing for them?”“Well, so far, I send them things off their wish list. Books mostly. Food, clothes…”“Sexy clothes?” Kitty piped up curiously.Vlad thought about it, recalling how Nathan’s t-shirt stretched over his chest. “Not particularly. Though, I suppose that’s subjective.”“And what have they done in return?” Riya prompted.Vlad paused again, thinking about it. “Nothing. They just sort of exist and post pictures of things to their profile now and then.”“That’s it?” Riya pressed. “That’s all they do?”“Yes. Well.” Vlad cleared his throat. “They, uh, invited me to a chatroom last night with a webcam. But nothing happened!” he added quickly. “We just talked for a couple of hours.”“Hours? What did you talk about?”“Literary theory, mostly. And what they’re doing for Pride this year. And that new Mad Max film.” Which wasn’t new anymore, but Vlad hadn’t seen it yet, which was akin to sacrilege, according to Ursula. She’d insisted he add it to his watch list immediately, and Vlad had complied. He realized she was alarmingly good at getting him to agree to things.The silence on the other end of the line went on so long that Vlad pulled the phone away from his ear to make sure it hadn’t disconnected. When Riya spoke again, her voice was carefully neutral. “Vlad, are you honestly telling me this has been going on for months, and you’re getting nothing out of this but the joy of spending our grandfather’s ill-gotten fortune on a pair of queer, broke grad students who want nothing more than clothes, books, and food? Is that what I’m hearing?”“Um, yes?”There was another long pause, then Riya began to laugh. “Yeah, no. You’re good. You are, in fact, too good. You’re the wet dream of every college student to have ever existed. They’re probably terrified you’re a hallucination. You are the shining moral beacon of what sugar daddies out to be in this cruel, hard world.”“I don’t know about that,” Vlad protested, giving an uncomfortable laugh. “It’s still… what it is. And I’m still married.”“Vlad,” Riya said flatly, “that thing you’ve been afflicted with for almost twenty years isn’t a marriage. It’s an open wound. You deserve better. I absolutely do not condone cheating, and I wish you were going about this differently, but I’m also glad; no, I am downright ecstatic that you’ve found something that makes you happy. You are happy, aren’t you?”“I’m… I’m happier,” Vlad said, realizing it was true. “Making them happy makes me happy.”“And that is exactly why you’ll never be like our father. He doesn’t do things to make people happy. He does them to make people unhappy. That’s his power kick. It’s toxic. If your kink is spending money and making people happy—” Vlad choked at her casual use of that word, the tips of his ears burning red. Was that what this was? A kink? Was that a thing people were into? Riya carried on, oblivious to the new dilemma she’d created. “You’re all adults. And so long as you’re all clear about what’s going on and no one is getting hurt? Well, it’s unconventional. But no, Vlad, you’re not like Father. You never will be. You’re a good person. Flawed, but good.”Vlad swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. Somehow, Riya always knew what to say. “Thank you,” he whispered. He wished she was near enough to hug.“You’re welcome.” She smiled; Vlad could hear it in her voice. “Now, is that everything? Crisis averted? Can I go back to bed?”Vlad shook his head, wiping at his eyes. “Yes, go on, get some rest. Thank you. You’re as wonderful as ever.”“I know, darling.” She laughed, reminding him of their stepmother.“I miss you,” he said.“I miss you too. Call me anytime, preferably before you have another crisis. And talk to them. The key to any relationship is communication. And leave Elizabeth while you’re at it. She’s not good for you.”Vlad laughed and shook his head. “Yeah. I’ll get right on that.”“I know you won’t,” Riya said, sounding genuinely sad. “I love you.”“Love you too, take care. You too, Kitty.”“Bye-bye, Vladdy! Lots of love and kisses, mwah!”The line went dead. Vlad put his phone down on his desk and stared at it. He felt both drained and relieved all at once. Riya was right, of course. He needed to talk to Ursula and Nathan about all this. He needed to do many things. Too many things, if he was honest. But at least he could control some of them. Like setting specific expectations and boundaries on his part and giving Nathan and Ursula an explicit get-out clause if they wanted it.And fortunately for them, Vlad was exceptionally good at writing get-out clauses.He pulled up his desktop on the computer and threw his next few appointments down the chain of command with a swipe. Swithin could handle most of his schedule today. And besides, it wasn’t like he’d be able to focus on anything until he got this done.Grinning to himself, Vlad opened the private partition of his computer and began to type.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“What,” Nathan said around a mouthful of cereal, “—and I cannot stress this enough—the fuck is this?”“What is it?” Ursula asked, her gaze flicking up to meet his in the mirror as she replaced her many hooped earrings for studs. There’d been a cancelation at Club Wyrd, and Madame Jenee had called asking if Ursula could fill it. The ensuing chaos left their apartment looking like a sparkly, besequinned tornado had hit it.“I think it’s a contract,” he replied, continuing to scroll on his laptop. “It is. He’s written a God-damned contract. It says, ‘Terms of Engagement’ at the top.”“Very formal,” Ursula murmured. “Well, that tracks with what we know of him.”Nathan scowled at the screen and reached up to adjust his hearing aid where it was digging into his ear. “Listen to this, ‘whereby the recipients,’ that’s us, ‘may end the terms of engagement without prior notice or expectation of any further obligation to the benefactor.’” He looked up, catching her eye in the mirror again. “Is this normal?”Ursula shrugged, annoyingly calm about this whole thing. Nathan knew she’d been sugaring online on and off for years. It was how she’d paid for a sizeable chunk of her higher education. But he couldn’t help but feel she was too casual about this. “It’s not a requisite. But it’s not unheard of either.” She leaned into the mirror, applying her eyeliner with a steady hand. “Some doms like to do it as a power play. Maybe it’s that.” Nathan made a sound in the back of his throat. “I don’t think so. A lot of this sounds legal. There’s stuff in here about maintaining his anonymity and our safety and comfort. I mean, shit, there’s an entire section dedicated to finances. He’s practically giving us free rein to ruin his credit rating.”Ursula shrugged again. “Maybe that’s his thing. But I guess that also answers what he does for a living. He’s a lawyer. Or something like it. Red or pink lipstick?”Nathan glanced up at her, his gaze running over her attire. Not that it mattered. She’d get changed the minute she got into the club. She only liked to do her makeup at home because she said the lighting was better. “Red. I mean… Look, please, I know you’re busy, but please just come here and read this. I think I’m hallucinating some of these numbers.”Ursula sighed and traipsed over to him. She flopped over his right shoulder, and Nathan tilted his head back to watch her facial expression. Her eyes grew wide a moment later, and she pushed into his lap, pulling the laptop toward her in disbelief. “What?”“See!” Nathan said, gesturing with his spoon. “I read that amount right, right? He’s offering us a monthly spending allowance that’d cover our rent and then some. With zero obligation to quote, perform, unquote, or do anything we don’t want to do. There’s even something further down about several months’ severance pay if we decide to quit. This cannot be normal!”Ursula worried at her bottom lip, heedless of the lipstick she’d applied. “No, it’s not. I’ve maybe heard of this happening once before.”“And?”“And she ended up marrying the dude. Oh.”“What?” Nathan asked.“There’s a phone number at the bottom.”It took a moment for him to process the words, but by the time he moved to grab his phone, Sue was already dancing across the room with it. “Hey!”“Shh!” she silenced him, flapping a hand at him as his phone rang, the sound obnoxious and tinny on his speakerphone.“He’s not going to pick up,” Nathan told her. “It’s the middle of the day for people with proper jobs. He’ll be too busy—”The trill cut off mid-ring, and a pregnant silence filled the apartment.“Hello?” Ursula said, glancing between Nathan and the phone in her hand.“You know,” a disembodied voice replied, the tone rich with amusement. “I really thought it’d take you a while longer to call.”Nathan’s spoon dropped into his bowl with an embarrassing clatter. He turned wide, horrified eyes to Ursula, who was grinning at him like a shark. It was no secret between them that he had a bit of a thing for voices, and Mister V sounded ridiculously hot. Like smoke curling off smoldering coals hot.There weren’t many things Nathan wouldn’t do for a voice like that. Ursula knew it too.“I’ve never been good at being patient,” Ursula admitted, and Nathan, who’d just about regained the use of his higher functioning motor skills, dropped his spoon again as the other man let out a low chuckle. Somehow, he’d managed to convey both patience and indulgence in a single, breathy exhale and nope, nope, nope. Nathan was gone again. Goodbye, world. He covered his face with his hands, half tempted to take his hearing aid out. When he looked up again, it was to find Ursula watching him gleefully.“Besides,” she carried on, sounding cool even as Nathan watched her all but dance on the spot, “you wouldn’t have left your number there if you didn’t want us to call it.”Another soft huff of laughter broke over the line. “Touché,” he replied. “Is Nathan with you?”Nathan felt his face flush at the sound of his name coming from that voice. It was just so smooth and authoritative, like someone used to giving orders and having them obeyed. The thought made Nathan run hot and cold all over in ways he’d only experienced in his own lurid fantasies, or the few times Ursula topped him, so thoroughly he’d experienced subspace. And from the way Ursula was grinning at him, it was blatantly apparent on his face.“Yep!” Ursula held the phone toward him. “Say hello, Nathan.”The smart-ass thing to do would be to reply, ‘Hello Nathan,’ but all he could manage was a choked-out ‘Hi’ that cracked apart in his throat. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Hello.”“He’s shy,” Ursula said traitorously, and Nathan shot her a murderous look. She blew him a kiss in return.“Ah,” Mister V said, still sounding amused. “That makes two of us.”“Really?” Ursula queried, tilting her head to the side in a genuine expression of curiosity. “You don’t sound nervous.”“I have a lot of practice hiding it.”Ursula hummed thoughtfully. “Hm. So, is that why you don’t want to see us naked?”Nathan, midway through a sip of tea to calm his nerves, choked. It was a sound mirrored on the other end of the line, and he had the sudden mental image of a high-class businessman wiping water away from the front of his expensive suit and tie. Nathan felt a curious sense of camaraderie. It was nice to know he wasn’t the only one at the mercy of Ursula’s forthright candor.“I, er,” the voice on the other end of the line stammered, and Nathan could hear the nervousness now. It made him sound younger, and Nathan adjusted his mental image by a few years. There was an audible creak, loud enough for Nathan to hear. Like someone leaning back heavily in an office chair. It was followed by the subtle, telltale shink-shink sound of a lighter being lit. “I don’t seem to recall ever saying that,” Mister V replied at last.“So, you do want to see us naked?” Ursula pursued. “Because this contract you’ve written up is sending some seriously mixed messages.”There was the sound of a shaky exhale over the line, and Nathan could imagine the cloud of smoke that accompanied it. He wasn’t a fan of smoking from a health standpoint, but he’d always found the visual aesthetic weirdly appealing. He was struck by the sudden desire to know what Mister V looked like so he could pair that killer voice to the fantasy figure rapidly unfolding in his head.“It’s not as simple as that,” their faceless benefactor said. He sounded suddenly exhausted. “It’s more, well, let’s just say it’s a personal quandary.”“How so?”“I…” The other man hesitated, then seemed to find the words he needed. “Look, I’ll be honest. I’ve done nothing like this before.”Ursula and Nathan shared a look. Newbie.“Never done sugaring, or?” Ursula left the query hanging, searching for clarification.“Any of it,” Mister V admitted. “I read your profile before swiping. It was quite….”Explicit, Nathan thought, recalling all the kinks they’d listed.“Detailed,” Mister V said. “I admit, I was familiar with some of it already, but I had to Google some others.”Nathan grinned. He could take a wild guess at what’d stumped the other man. Shibari, probably. Switch was likely another. However, it was good that he took the initiative to do research before matching with them. It meant he’d both liked what he’d seen, and he was willing to learn. They could work with that.“I see,” Ursula said. She clucked her tongue thoughtfully. “So, would I be right in thinking that this being your first time dabbling with any of this, your knee-jerk response was to drastically overcompensate for any inexperience by giving us as much power and autonomy over the situation as possible?”“That’s probably a fair assessment.”Ursula hummed. “And the money?”“Uh…”“The contract you wrote,” Ursula reminded him. “Don’t get me wrong; it’s a very… generous offer.” Her gaze drifted back to Nathan and his laptop, her tongue running over her teeth. It was a hungry expression, and Nathan knew it had little to do with the money itself and everything to do with the potential power dynamics it represented. “But it’d be good to know if it’s also coming from a place of, shall we say, guilt? Or if it’s… some other form of enjoyment not listed on our profile.”Mister V cleared his throat. “The latter. Very much the latter.”Ursula’s answering smile was wolfish. “Good. I had a feeling it might be; you seemed the type. But it’s always good to check.”Mister V laughed. “Am I that obvious? I should have known all those psychology books weren’t just for show.”“Oh, no, those books were for Nathan,” Ursula said, her voice dropping into the sweet, singsong lilt she used with a very particular kind of guest at the club. It made Nathan shiver in anticipation even though it wasn’t directed at him. “And I don’t need books to figure you out.”“Then what was it?” Mister V asked, matching her playful tone before Nathan could warn him, he was playing with fire.“Simple,” Ursula said, going for broke. “You’re not my first daddy, Daddy.”The word dropped into the air like a bomb going off. Nathan sat frozen, a throb of heat pulsing through him at the use of that loaded word. It wasn’t something he was comfortable using himself, but the taboo nature of it combined with the unashamed bravado with which Ursula said it was inexplicably arousing. And from the drawn-out silence on the other end of the line, Mister V was coming to terms with that himself.“Right.” The other man coughed, his voice cracking like a man suddenly stuck at work with an erection he hadn’t been expecting to deal with. “That is… yes. Right. Fine. Good.” He cleared his throat and regained some of his timbre. “Well, I’m glad one of us knows what the Hell they’re doing.” He laughed, a genuine, sharp sound of amusement that made both Nathan and Ursula grin. He had a good laugh when he let himself use it. “Just one thing though, um, if… if we’re doing this?”“Yes, Daddy?” Ursula asked.There was another long pause. “That word…”“What word would that be, Daddy?” Ursula asked, all bratty and sweet. Nathan arched an eyebrow at her. She was already testing boundaries.“Incorrigible,” Mister V chided. “You know what word.”He sounded more fondly exasperated than annoyed, matching her mood yet again. Nathan wondered if the other man realized how rare it was to be faced with a brat and just be able to roll with their energy. It’d taken Nathan a while to get a handle on Ursula’s bratting, and he’d watched her emotionally kneecap several of the harder doms at the club with a well-aimed pout or sulk more than once. Considering his proclaimed inexperience, it was impressive how quickly Mister V had stepped into the exact shape of the tolerant but stern persona Ursula thrived on. Or perhaps that was just the way he was. Either way, it was promising.“You mean ‘Daddy?’”“Yes. That word.”“What about it?”“I don’t… I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that. If… if that’s all right?”Ursula shifted gears immediately, dropping the ditzy inflection for something firm and reassuring. “Of course! Thank you for telling us. Is there another word you’d prefer, or should we just keep calling you Mister V?”“That works,” Mister V said, sounding relieved and more like the charming stranger who’d picked up the phone at the start of the call. Then he added, “Although I suppose, Sir would also work.”Nathan felt the pit of his stomach twist, like going over the drop of a rollercoaster. Oh, this really wasn’t fair…Ursula caught his eye again, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Yeah. That works for us. That works just fine.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“You’ve been unusually cheerful lately,” Elizabeth said. She eyed Vlad suspiciously across the breakfast table. “Did someone die?”Vlad reached around the protective shield of his Saturday morning newspaper and claimed his coffee cup. “No one I’m aware of, dear,” he said and took a careful sip. “But there’s still hope for the day yet.”She didn’t laugh, and Vlad didn’t expect her to. To his surprise, however, she kept talking to him. “I saw the Carlisles at the club on Thursday. They wanted to know if we could do brunch soon.”Vlad, trained by years of marital discourse, kept his tone and face perfectly neutral. “Did they? That was nice of them.”“I said we would. Next Sunday.”“Whatever works best for you, dear.”Unable to find fault with his cordial reply, Elizabeth returned her attention to her plate. It’d been quite some time since Vlad had sat down and enjoyed his breakfast out on the patio. It had been even longer since Elizabeth had sought to join him. There was something oddly reassuring about the familiarity of it, yet also… wrong. As though everything else going on between them didn’t exist out here under the patio awning. Like they were in a play, acting out their parts. Distant and stilted.Vlad looked around, surveying the green canopy of trees that surrounded the back of the property. None of it felt real. The pool was still uncovered; the water turned an unearthly blue from the azure lights glinting at the bottom. Even the sound of their neighbor’s annoying wind chime tinkling in the morning breeze felt surreal and otherworldly. Vlad’s gaze drifted back to Elizabeth; his eyes inevitably drawn to the slender column of her throat. Reality filtered back in, blooming in the shape of another man’s lips imprinted on her skin. She’d tried to cover it with makeup, though some of it had already rubbed off, a telltale smudge of concealer visible on the Channel scarf she was wearing. Vlad stared at it. It was the one he’d given her for their last anniversary. He wondered if it was deliberate, or if she even remembered.Forgotten on the table, his phone chimed.“Who’s that?” Elizabeth asked, peering with interest at the screen before Vlad could reach it. “No one ever texts you.”Vlad lifted it and gave the screen a cursory glance and silenced the ringer. “It’s Riya,” he lied and set it face down on the table.Across from him, Elizabeth pulled a face. It was hard to tell if it was from the bitterness of the grapefruit she was dissecting into pieces or the mention of his sister’s name. “It’s a little early for her to be up and about. It’s not even noon over there yet.”“Miracles happen from time to time,” Vlad replied, and took another sip of his coffee.Elizabeth hummed in response, tapping her long nails against the side of her coffee cup. Usually, Vlad would feel obliged to fill the silence. Instead, he let it hang, allowing the moment to stretch on without end. The longer it went on, the more agitated Elizabeth’s tapping became. She was spoiling for a fight. Vlad could feel it in the air between them. Like a tempest brewing in the middle of the breakfast table. He wondered if she was looking for a reason not to come home tonight. It wouldn’t be the first time. After a small eternity, she tossed her napkin down on her plate. “I’m going shopping,” she informed him, a ring of challenge in her tone.Vlad looked up at her and smiled. “Have fun, dear.”He turned his attention to the broadsheet in front of him, then froze when he felt her fingers ghost over his cheek, turning his face up with a soft touch under his chin. She stared down at him. “Did you get a haircut?”Vlad blinked. “Not recently.”She hummed, frowning down at him. Not angry, more perplexed. Like she couldn’t figure out what was happening, and if she just stared at him long enough, an explanation would present itself. Her lips pursed together. “You look different,” she said at last.“Do I?” Vlad asked mildly, wondering where she was going with this.“You look younger.”Vlad, who’d felt nothing other than ancient his entire life, laughed. “Thank you?”“You’re welcome,” she said, still eyeing him like a puzzle with a missing piece. “It’s your eyes.”“I’m sleeping better,” Vlad informed her and leaned back out of her touch.“Yes,” Elizabeth said, letting her hand drop. She reached for her driving gloves on the table, working them onto her delicate fingers as though they’d offended her. “That must be it. Did you go to your meeting this week?”It was meant as a jab. A verbal slap to remind him of his failings as an addict. No doubt to make up for the unintentional compliment she’d paid him. Vlad pretended it wasn’t and smiled up at her again. It was so much more infuriating for her when he refused to play along.“Every Tuesday and Thursday, like clockwork.” Which you’d know if you were ever home, Vlad thought, reaching into his pocket for his latest sobriety chip. It was purple, denoting four months of tenuous sobriety. He had a plethora of them stashed away in his nightstand—a veritable rainbow of successful milestones. And failures, too.Other people collected cufflinks in their top drawer. Vlad collected himself, one day at a time.Elizabeth glanced at it, uninterested. “Good, we wouldn’t want you slipping. Again.”Vlad forced his smile to stay in place, opting to ignore the venom in her voice. He could have pointed out that his last brush with alcohol had been fueled by one of their arguments, and the copious amounts of alcohol she insisted on keeping in the house, but that would just be shifting the blame. And Vlad found he didn’t care enough to argue with her anymore. About anything. It was a freeing revelation. Instead, he said, “Of course, dear.”Her eye twitched, and Vlad dipped his head so she wouldn’t see him smirk. He was about to shake out the newspaper and return to reading it when she leaned down and presented her cheek to him. Vlad’s brain froze. Sheer muscle memory saved him; his body responding to decades of familiarity as he leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to her cool cheek. It was the most physical contact they’d had in months.Vlad did not miss, however, that she didn’t return the gesture.“Don’t wait up tonight,” she said, patting his cheek like a dog that’d performed a trick. “I’m going out with the Grosskopf twins.”The Grosskopf twins, who Vlad knew from a passing glance at Facebook last night, were down on the southern coast, visiting family.“Have fun,” Vlad reiterated his previous statement, realizing with some slight shock he meant it. Even more surprising was the realization that he wasn’t upset. He didn’t care enough to be hurt anymore. If Elizabeth wanted to lie and pretend like she wasn’t having another affair, Vlad couldn’t stop her. But he was done spending any energy on being upset over it.Elizabeth gave him one last puzzled look, then turned to leave.Vlad leaned back in his chair, pretending to read the news until he heard car tires crunching over gravel, then dove for his phone. He slid the lock screen open and was greeted by Ursula’s smiling face. Vlad hadn’t asked them to send him any pictures since their first phone call several weeks ago. He still hadn’t asked them for anything (he didn’t know where to begin), but nevertheless, a steady trickle of pictures started to appear in his inbox anyway. Selfies of Ursula, mostly; interjected with small glimpses of their life. Walks in the park. Sitting in Starbucks drinking lurid pink teas that looked like melted cotton candy. Vlad had tried one the other day, wondering what the appeal was. It’d been as sickeningly sweet as he’d imagined, and he’d felt compelled to lick the salt rock lamp on his desk afterward. And then there was Snapchat, which Vlad still couldn’t figure out, but he enjoyed seeing all the highly stylized filters she sent his way. Though none, Vlad couldn’t help but notice, came from Nathan. There was the occasional glimpse of him in the background, but otherwise, all texts and images came from Ursula. Vlad attributed it to Ursula’s comment about the younger man being shy, but he’d be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t a little disappointed. He wasn’t going to say anything, perish the thought. He’d meant what he’d said about them being under no obligation to do anything they didn’t want to, and Vlad would rather cut off his arm than make them uncomfortable.But he was also only human, and the desire to see more of them, both of them, was slowly killing him in the best ways possible.Vlad swiped through the slideshow of pictures that’d accrued in the few brief moments since silencing his phone. He couldn’t help but smile at all the various silly poses and faces Ursula was willing to pull for his amusement. If Nathan was shy, then Ursula was his polar opposite. You could bottle her confidence and sell it as rocket fuel if you wanted. Vlad found it endlessly charming. Today, it seemed, was a selfie-loving day. Vlad scrolled through them all, tapping the heart button over each one, knowing she’d see it. When he got to the last three photos, he realized her outfit had changed. Swiping back, he realized belatedly that she was standing in a changing room, trying on outfits. The knowledge made his stomach swoop pleasantly. It was the most recent text sent mere seconds ago, that made him sit up and pay attention.Help me pick? It said, followed by a pleading-eyed emoji. Vlad’s stomach did a loop-de-loop, then plummeted southward, taking all the blood in his body with it.Help? How was he supposed to help her pick out clothing when every fiber in his being wanted the exact opposite? He swiped back through the pictures, drinking her in with his eyes. The first dress was a deep forest green halter neck, the ragged, asymmetrical hem and flowing off the shoulder sleeves giving it an almost elvish or forest fairy vibe. All it needed was a flower crown to complete the aesthetic. The second was a similar cut, but purple with tight sleeves and a plunging neckline that left little to the imagination. The third and final dress was much, much shorter; the flowing black velvet synched tightly around her waist, showcasing the generous swell of her hips. Vlad forced himself to blink, swiping back and forth between the images a few more times before settling on the only logical reply.
You look good in all of them.
Her reply popped up seconds later. Yes, but if you had to pick *one* which one would you pick?Vlad blinked, not understanding the dilemma. He knew she had his charge card; he’d seen them using it. Trips to the grocery store and the pharmacy from what he could tell, but there was no limit on it. She could buy a hundred dresses if she wanted. Unless… unless this was one of those times when she wanted him to be ‘Sir.’Vlad swallowed, a bloom of heat rising to his cheeks. He still hadn’t recovered from when she’d called him ‘Daddy’ that one time, and he still couldn’t believe his own audacity that he’d suggested they call him ‘Sir’ instead. But it was out there now, and a seemingly welcome part of their dynamic, if the way Ursula used it was anything to go by. It wasn’t consistent; she still seemed to prefer ‘Mister V,’ which was fine by Vlad, but she also had a knack for dropping ‘Sir’ on him at the most inconvenient moments. She’d done it yesterday during his lunch hour, and Vlad had been unable to get up from his desk for a solid twenty minutes. And even then, he’d spent the rest of the day wired as Hell, unable to focus on anything other than how tight his suit pants were. It’d been an excruciating sort of torment. Vlad wanted more of it.But he also had no idea how to initiate it or if that was what she was even asking for.Sue, he typed back, why on earth would you pick just one? Buy all three.But Mister Veeeee, her reply came back instantly, petulant and needy. I’m trying to be good :(Ah.Vlad swallowed. He could hear the implied whine in her voice, envisioning the sulky pout of her lips that always begged to be kissed whenever he caught a glimpse of it on camera. It was ridiculous, how weak he was for it. How much he just wanted to spoil her rotten. How hard the thought made him. Porn had never really done anything for him. It was fine, in a distracting “shut your brain off” sort of way. But this, oh this was ruinous. He’d never be able to go back to normal.Vlad started to type, then backspaced, his newfound desires clashing with a lifetime of being an introvert. The heat in his gut won out. Vlad started typing again, his face flaming as he read back what he’d written. He hit send before he could delete it, a giddy twist hooking into his chest as his soul left his body out of sheer mortal embarrassment.
Then be a good girl and do what you’re told. Buy all three.
He regretted it instantly. He was on the verge of typing out an apology and preparing to drown himself in the pool when his phone chimed again. Vlad peered at the screen through the cracks in his fingers. It was three short words, but it pulled a desperate groan from deep within his chest, a fresh wave of heat flooding over him.
Thank you, Sir.
Oh yeah, Vlad was absolutely ruined.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“Is that a new dress?” Nathan asked as he set his kitbag down by the door. He traipsed into the kitchen, where Ursula leaned over the stove. She held a battered book in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other, her attention divided between the two.“Do you like it?” she asked, shimmying for his benefit. The motion made the skirt sway hypnotically around her hips, and Nathan’s gaze dropped to follow it. “I thought I could use it for a set at the club.”Nathan tilted his head to the side and gave her a lengthy appraisal. It was a short black velvet affair that fell several inches above her knees. The synched-in bodice and flowing sleeves made it better suited for a trip to the renfaire than the queer club on kink nights. But Nathan supposed it’d be someone’s fantasy. It was certainly doing it for him. Especially the way it inched up the back of her thighs, revealing her shapely behind.“It’s gorgeous,” he said, letting his gaze linger a little longer as he tucked himself into her personal space. “Did Mister V buy it for you?”“He did!” Ursula exclaimed, the full force of her exuberant attention landing on him as she fished her phone out of her cleavage. “He bought me three, actually. And you should see the message he sent!”Nathan slid open her cracked phone screen and read the last few lines of their conversation thread. “Fuck me,” he breathed out, feeling a secondhand flush of color rise to his cheeks. “He learns fast.”“Right?!” Ursula enthused, a viciously triumphant look on her face. “I told you he just needed a little nudging.”“Smug.” Nathan gave her a playful tap on the nose. He scrolled up some more through the thread. It was remarkably tame, considering the explicit sexting he knew Ursula to be capable of. There was the odd, flirtatious bit of banter here and there, but mostly, it read like two people getting to know each other better. Weirdly, it was the casual comments about the weather and what they were having for dinner tonight that made something sharp and ugly twist in Nathan’s chest.Envy, he realized.It’d been a long time since he’d felt that.It must have shown on his face because Ursula gave him a meaningful side-glance. “You could have that too, you know. If you engaged with him.” “Yeah. I know.” Nathan sighed sullenly, nursing the sour feeling churning in his stomach. He didn’t resent them getting to know each other. Heck, he was happy that Ursula was happy. What bothered him was not being part of it, and what bothered him even more, was that he had no one to blame for that but himself!Mister V had made it abundantly clear he’d wait for them to initiate contact, and while Ursula had jumped in feet first, Nathan found himself floundering.“Nathan,” Ursula prompted him, “what’s wrong?”Nathan sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He’d been hoping to get over himself before this conversation became necessary. But it’d been several weeks now, and it was probably time to rip the metaphorical band-aid off. “Honestly, I don’t know. I guess things are more overwhelming than I thought they’d be.”Ursula set her book aside and lowered the heat on the stove. “Want to talk about it?”“No,” Nathan muttered. He tapped out of the messaging app to find the background of her phone had changed again. His own lopsided grin glared back at him, mocking. “I’ll just let it fester inside me until it turns into bitter resentment, and I die an angry old man.”Ursula picked up the spoon again and stirred the pot some more. “Well, that’s certainly your choice, dear.”“I just…” Nathan trailed off, his frustration already getting the better of him. He set her phone down on the counter and folded his arms over his chest. “We’ve never actually shared anyone before, y’know? I know we do the sex thing.” He gestured vaguely, trying to encompass their online exhibitionism with a wave of his hand. “But it’s never been this involved before, y’know? I almost feel like if this were just sex, I’d feel better about it. Is that weird? And I get he might not be into that,” he carried on before Ursula could reply. “This might just be emotional or mental for him or whatever, but, okay, so today I’m at the grocery store, and I didn’t have cash on me. I did have a swipe card, though, and it didn’t bounce because it’s being funded by a stranger who gets off on buying us things but doesn’t seem to want anything from us, and I just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, and I’m worried it’s going to be a piano or one of those Acme safes with a stick of dynamite inside it. And I know Mister V seems really nice, and I want to believe he is. It just doesn’t feel real. I want to be involved and take part, but I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing if he wants nothing from me. And I don’t like that. I don’t like how anxious this makes me, and I don’t know what to do.”The ensuing silence was heavy, and Nathan glanced at Ursula apprehensively. Her lips were pursed into a thin, mulish line. She moved toward him and buried her face against his sternum, hugging him tightly. Nathan folded his arms around her, returning the squeeze.“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice muffled by his chest. “I didn’t realize you were so anxious. And I didn’t mean to pull you into something you didn’t want to do.”“Aha, none of that,” Nathan admonished, pulling back so he could give her a meaningful look. “I didn’t say that. In fact, I said the opposite. I want to be involved. I just need more help processing it than I thought I would. Fantasy vs. reality, and all that.”“I know, but I’ve been so wrapped up with Mister V I didn’t notice. I should have known you were upset.”“No,” Nathan corrected, smiling down at her worried, upturned face. “I didn’t let you know.”“But—”“How about we agree there’s been a general breakdown in communication and work from there?” he suggested. He squeezed her to emphasize he wasn’t upset with her—just at himself and how he was handling the situation.“Okay,” Ursula murmured, returning the squeeze hard enough to push the air from his lungs. She was a whole foot shorter than him, but her strength never failed to impress him. After a minute, she asked, “How can I help?”“I’m not sure.” Nathan sighed and rested his chip atop her head, taking comfort in her presence. “This helps.”“Does it?”Nathan hummed and closed his eyes, shutting the world out until all he could feel was the reassuring weight of her in his arms. He allowed his hands to drift, rubbing over the soft warmth of the velvet fabric beneath his fingertips. It really was a nice dress. It’d look even better on their bedroom floor. Though perhaps now was not the time to voice such opinions. They stood entwined for a while longer, quiet enough for the sounds of daily apartment life to filter in through Nathan’s hearing aids. The sound of muffled voices through walls, the loud blare of a stereo, and someone banging for it to stop. It wasn’t much. Not compared to what they’d given up to be together. But it was home, for now.Ursula shifted restlessly in his arms, and Nathan let his hold slacken so she could slip away if she wanted. “I love you,” she said, standing on tiptoe to place a kiss on his lips.“I love you too,” Nathan replied, returning the kiss.“We still need to figure this out, though,” Ursula informed him, stepping back and reclaiming her wooden spoon once more. She waved it sternly under his nose. “And you need to promise to tell me in the future when you feel like this, okay?”She looked so severe holding the spoon Nathan laughed. “I know, I’m sorry.” He held hands up defensively when she looked ready to smack him with it. “I’m not laughing at you, I promise. You just looked so fierce with the spoon.”“Spoons are a valuable and formidable tool.” She sniffed primly, her expression breaking into a soft smile when he laughed again. “Oh!” She turned to look at him suddenly. “Did you get the batteries I left out for you this morning?”“Yes, thank you,” Nathan said and reached up to touch his hearing aids out of habit. “You were right; changing them out helped. I’ll probably still need to get a new set soon, though. The batteries shouldn’t be running out that quick.”“Hmm.” Ursula made an unhappy sound of sympathy. Her expression remained pensive, then lifted. “Hey, I just thought of something.”“What?” Nathan asked, wary of the sparkle he could see in her eyes. He knew that expression. It was the same look that led to bungee jumping and waking up with a new tattoo you didn’t know you wanted until she talked you into it.“So, this thing with Mister V. Are you shy because it’s both of us, or is it something else? Like, is it the intimacy of someone knowing us as a couple instead of just for sex, or is it the power dynamic?”Nathan rubbed the back of his neck. “The power dynamic for sure. I mean, I’m into it, but you’re the only person I’ve played switch with, and it’s… a lot. Also, like, sex is one thing, yeah? I’m fine with that, but Mister V’s not asking for that, which makes it feel somehow more intimate if that makes any sense? Honestly, I just don’t know where to begin….”“Okay, so.” Ursula pushed her mane of hair out of her face. “What if, now hear me out, what if I’m the hinge? What if you engage through me?”“Aren’t I already?” Nathan asked, baffled.“You’re engaging passively,” Ursula corrected, evidently warming to whatever her idea was. “What if instead, you did all the things I’m doing. So instead of me taking selfies, you take pictures of me and send them instead.”Nathan frowned. “I dunno…”“Why not? It’d give you something to talk about. You could film me,” Ursula smiled up at him, a sly, knowing smile that cut to the quick of Nathan’s voyeuristic soul. He squirmed from foot to foot, both from being intimately known and called out in the same sentence. “You’ve both got that proclivity in common.”“Do we?” Nathan asked, intrigued despite himself. Ursula slid back into his arms, her smile taking on a positively vicious gleam as she rubbed up against him, revealing just how firmly the idea had his attention. Nathan grunted and clamped his hands around her hips. “What else do we have in common?”“Hmm, lots of things.” Ursula shrugged coyly, looking up at him from under dark lashes. “Similar taste in books, films… repressed-dom tendencies with a weak spot for spoiling bratty little sluts.”Nathan sucked down air, the sound coming out as a breathless laugh. “Is that a fact?” he asked, a spike of heat lancing through him as Ursula bit her lip, her eyes widening in a practiced look of innocence entirely feigned for his benefit.“Mhm.” She hummed, walking her fingers up the front of his shirt, playing with the buttons. “Just think about it; that’s all I ask. I think it’d be a good bonding experience for both of you.”“And is that the only bondage on offer?” Nathan asked, suppressing another groan as Ursula wriggled against him. She squealed, a delightfully toe-curling sound, as Nathan hiked her up to eye-level with a firm squeeze of her ass. She always liked it when he used his greater height and size to manhandle her, and Nathan was more than happy to oblige.“Doesn’t have to be,” she murmured, brushing her lips over his as her arms and legs locked around him.“This really is a lovely dress,” Nathan said, his attention diverted by the tantalizing amount of cleavage suddenly mere inches from his face.Ursula preened under the attention. “Well, you can thank Mister V later.”“Later,” Nathan agreed. He shifted his grip under her thighs, eliciting another squeal as he hiked her up higher and began to walk toward their bedroom.“Wait!” And then promptly back to the stove. Ursula twisted in his arms, bending backward to turn the heat off. “Okay!” She pulled herself back up, grinning at him. “Now, let’s go!”“Yes, Ma’am.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
They stumbled through to the bedroom, kissing and giggling as they went. For once, Ursula was glad she’d gone to the trouble of making the bed that morning. There was just something so much more decadent about landing amidst a pile of plumped-up pillows. Even if the bed creaked alarmingly when Nathan dumped her none too gently on her back.“Hey!” she protested, wriggling upright on her elbows. “Be careful.”Nathan crooked his head to the side and arched an eyebrow at her. “Oh, please. Like you don’t love being thrown down.”“I do! It’s the bed I’m worried about!” Ursula scooted up the mattress until she could reach the string of lights wrapped around the headboard. She’d just turned them on when Nathan wrapped strong fingers around her ankle and pulled her back with a firm, gentle yank. Ursula squealed, her heart hammering in her chest as he propped one knee against the mattress, squarely between her thighs as he looked down at her. Ursula felt her body respond, a growing heat pooling between her thighs as he took his time to unbutton his shirt, his eyes never leaving her body.Fuck, she loved it when he looked at her like that.Like he wanted to eat her alive.Feeling like she ought to do something, Ursula made to sit up and undo the ties of her dress, but Nathan had other ideas. “Leave it.”Ursula arched an eyebrow at him but did as she was bid. Instead, she leaned back on her elbows, watching appreciatively as Nathan stripped out of his shirt. He really was beautiful, she thought. Impossibly powerful and broad, his movements slow and deliberate, like someone aware of their strength and determined not to misuse it.Or like someone who knew they had a rapt audience.“Like something you see?” he asked as he peeled off his white undershirt, revealing the hard plane of his abdomen one tantalizing inch at a time.“Everything,” Ursula breathed out. She launched herself up at him, uncertain whether she wanted to drag him down on top of her or climb him like a tree and settling for somewhere between.Laughing, Nathan pried her off and dumped her back down on the bed. The wooden frame groaned in protest, and for a moment, Ursula worried it might actually give out under them. “Behave,” he warned.“You behave,” Ursula shot back, still breathless with want. “I told you to be careful with the bed.”Nathan arched an eyebrow at her, his hands moving to his belt buckle. “Maybe if you ask Mister V nicely, he’ll buy us a new one.”Ursula dragged her eyes back up to his face. They rarely talked about other partners when they were being intimate together, preferring to keep the focus on the moment and each other. But if this was Nathan’s way of becoming more comfortable with the idea of someone like Mister V in their lives, Ursula was willing to run with it.Hell, she’d sprint.“Maybe I will,” she said, her breath hitching in her throat as Nathan let his belt drop to the floor and prowled up the length of the bed toward her. He kneeled above her, and she licked her lips. “Or maybe you should.”A visible gleam entered his eyes, darkening the ice-blue depths to something hard and unspeakably hungry. “Maybe I will.” Still kneeling above her, he asked. “What’s your safe word?”“Red,” Ursula replied automatically, reaching for the headboard again where another switch hung within reach. She flicked it on and off, and another string of lights wrapped around the top of the headboard lit up red, plunging the room into ruddy relief.“Good girl,” Nathan purred, and Ursula let it roll over her like thunder as he leaned down and kissed her soundly on the lips. She was about to reach for him, eager to feel his weight on top of her, when Nathan drew back and caught her hands in one of his, stretching them toward the headboard. “Nope.”“But I want!” Ursula protested, still breathless from the kiss. She tugged against his hold, trying to get her hands on him. Nathan’s grip tightened, a soft chuckle rumbling through his chest, low and indulgent. Ursula felt it all the way down to her core.“I want doesn’t get, sweetheart,” he admonished, compounding the feeling of smallness washing over her with a gentle tap on her nose. God, he was in his element tonight. She could already feel the pull of subspace tugging at her thoughts. But she’d be damned if she didn’t go down bratting. She bit at the offending digit, and Nathan gave her another warning tap on the nose. “Hey, none of that.”“Mister V gives me what I want,” she sulked, watching Nathan’s expression flicker. He’d started this game earlier by bringing the other man into it, but evidently, he hadn’t expected her to turn it back on him.His brow knit down into a frown, but she could tell from the way his mouth twitched it wasn’t sincere. “Is that a fact?”“Yes.”“Well, then,” he said, his tone affecting the right amount of patience and tenderness that made her press her thighs together and squirm. “It’s a good thing I’m here to give you what you need, isn’t it?”Ursula swallowed. “Yes.”He let go of her wrists, placing both hands on either side of her head as he leaned down to brush their noses together, teasing her lips with another ghost of a kiss. “And what do you need, sweetheart? Hmm?”Ursula sucked in air, and turned her head away, suddenly overwhelmed as a hot flush of embarrassment bloomed over her skin. She wasn’t shy by nature, but sometimes, usually, when she was hovering on the verge of subspace, it would creep up on her. It was a delicious sort of torment. She murmured something intelligible into her arm, and Nathan turned her head back to face him, his expression losing some of its sternness as he adjusted to match her mental headspace without so much as a stutter. “What was that? Come on, sweetheart. Tell me what you need; there’s a good girl.”The words caught in her chest; hooked on a sudden swell of emotion she’d never been able to name that always took her breath away. Ursula shook her head, all too aware that she was sinking fast, the heady glow of subspace washing over her.It was funny, really, how his gentleness could undo her so easily. She was famous at the club for being untamable. Doms and dommes alike joked that attempting to paddle her into submission was a one-way ticket to developing repetitive strain injury. And yet it was the quiet calm of his presence that got under her skin—soothing her from the inside out. Even when he left red handprints on her ass and made her cry, Ursula knew Nathan would take care of her. There was, she reflected in the small part of her brain not overtaken by pink fog, a calm steadiness to Nathan that she’d never found within herself. It lent itself well to a genuine sort of authority that was comforting and electrifying all at once. And he’d chosen to share this side of himself with her. It was enough to make her soul ache.“Hey, you okay?” Nathan gave her a gentle nudge, and Ursula roused herself back into verbality.“I’m fine, love.” She smiled hazily up at him, hearing the giddy upturn in her voice. Apparently, she was feeling bratty and ditzy tonight. Oh well, might as well lean into it. “I was just thinking.”“Oh?” Nathan’s tone shifted seamlessly down another notch into something even softer, matching her mood. “What were you thinking?”“I’m thinking,” Ursula let the words drawl out over her tongue as she wriggled beneath him, grinning when she brushed up against the growing bulge in the front of his jeans. “I’m thinking about how good your cock is going to feel inside of me.”Nathan’s face remained passive, but he couldn’t quite stifle a grunt. Ursula counted it as a victory. “Is that right?” he asked, his tone still light and playful, but regaining some of its toe-curling sternness. “Who says you’re getting it?”The sound of distress in Ursula’s chest was genuine. The thought of being denied the hard length of him filling her up was worse than any other punishment he could dole out. “But I need it!”Without thinking, her hands left the headboard, and Nathan made a low warning sound in his chest. “Hands.”Ursula’s fingers wrapped around the headboard again, her eyes going longingly to the soft nylon ties that hung from the decorative knobs. “Please,” she pleaded, “I can be good.”“Can you?” Nathan pressed, and Ursula nodded earnestly. “Prove it. Keep your hands there until I say so.” Ursula felt a jolt of trepidation when she realized he didn’t intend to tie her in place. It must have shown on her face because Nathan laughed again as he slid off the bed to rummage in the chest of toys they kept at the foot of the bed. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? You can be good, can’t you?”“Fuck you,” Ursula muttered under her breath, and let her head drop back against the mattress.Nathan tilted his head up. “What was that?”“Love you,” she said, louder, knowing it likely wouldn’t save her from the paddling she’d get later but trying, anyway.“Uh-huh, that’s what I thought,” Nathan said, not sounding convinced as he fiddled with something out of her line of sight. “Bend your knees,” he instructed, and Ursula complied, though not fast enough. He slapped the inside of her thigh, and Ursula squealed in surprise, drawing her knees up to her chest. “I didn’t say close them,” Nathan admonished, prying her knees apart and rucking her skirt up around her hips. She heard his breath hitch, his eyes flashing darkly. “Are these new?”He slid a teasing finger over the soft fabric of her underwear, and Ursula twitched. They were, in fact, a new pair of silk tap briefs. The kind she liked to wear on stage for burlesque nights at the club. She’d picked them out the other day on a whim, drawn to the purple shimmer of the fabric. They had a good retro vibe to them. Sexy while still providing ample coverage. They were also becoming uncomfortably wet.“I said, are these new?” Nathan asked again, his fingers making her squirm uncontrollably when the pad of his thumb rubbed over her clit.“Yes,” Ursula said, though just how or why that mattered right now was beyond her.“Did Mister V buy them for you?”Ursula licked her lips, still trying to anticipate where he was going with this. “No.”“Did you use his card?”Ursula frowned, trying to gauge his expression. Why did that matter? They’d been using the card for all kinds of things. “Yes?”“Did you ask him nicely for permission?”And, oh, didn’t that do all kinds of wonderful things to the inside of her head?“N-no,” she admitted meekly. A sharp pang of guilt twisted through her, accompanied by a surge of arousal at the disapproving sound deep in Nathan’s chest. She had a complicated relationship with that noise; both thrilled by what it implied was coming and dismayed she’d done something naughty enough to earn it. After all, she didn’t want to be bad, not really. She wanted to be a good girl.“Are you sorry?”Until she didn’t.Ursula bit her lip. “No.”Nathan chuckled. “Thought as much. Oh well, we’ll just have to make up for that, won’t we? Close your eyes, sweetheart.”“Yes,” Ursula agreed, doing as she was bid.“Good girl,” Nathan praised, and the words shot through Ursula’s core, making her shiver almost as much as the touch of his finger teasing over her clit. Which he abruptly drew away.“No—” Ursula protested, arching up to chase the delicious friction that’d been so effortlessly stoking the fire in her gut. She was so wet, the throb of her arousal like a second heartbeat between her legs. Nathan shushed her and gave her a reassuring pat on the thigh as he moved up the mattress, propping her legs open wider on either side of his knees. His knees, which were still very much clad in jeans. Nothing happened for several seconds, and Ursula was about to risk peeking at him to see what he was up to when the buzzing started and the familiar weight of the vibrator wand was pressed against her clit.Ursula arched, gasping as the vibrations flooded over her. She’d been expecting the sharp sting of a paddle against her thigh or something else meant to reprimand her. But if Nathan wanted to get her off quickly, she wouldn’t argue either. However, no sooner had the stimuli begun, Nathan withdrew it again. Ursula tipped her head up, about to demand what the entire fuck, when Nathan beat her to it.“Ah-ah, eyes closed,” he warned. “And don’t let go of the headboard.”He lifted her leg and pressed a soft kiss to her ankle, and she relaxed again, but whatever solace she took from the affection was quickly lost when the vibrations started up again, and he pressed the head of the wand squarely against the sole of her foot.“Ah! No!” Ursula shrieked, writhing as the ticklish sensation lanced up her leg. It was enough to make her want to crawl out of her skin to escape. “Nathan! No, no, no!”“Oh, settle down,” Nathan admonished, shifting his grip when Ursula tried to kick him away. “Anyone would think you were being murdered.”“Don’t like!” she squealed between gasps, laughing despite herself and gripping the headboard tighter for support. “Don’t, Nathan, please!”“Do you want to use your safe word?” Nathan prompted, and Ursula abruptly clamped her mouth shut. Nathan chuckled low in his chest and dragged the wand up the inside of her calf, pressing it against the back of her knee. “I thought as much.”“I hate you,” she gasped, her breath turning into another shriek as he turned up the power. He dragged it up the inside of her thigh, alternating the pressure and intensity of the vibrations until she was shaking. When he finally pressed it against her folds, she let out a desperate sob of relief, her moans filling the room as she bucked up against the head of the wand. She’d just found the perfect angle to tip her over the edge when Nathan turned the power off.“Oh, fuck you!” she spat.“Now that one I heard,” Nathan replied. He gave her a playful buzz in the side for her trouble, and Ursula squealed, trying to get away from it. “Just for that, I’m switching it to random.”“No,” Ursula whined, squirming uncontrollably when he pressed the toy against her swollen lips through the wet silk of her briefs.“Say sorry,” Nathan prompted. Ursula bit down hard on her lower lip, forcing herself to settle. She held out until her thighs trembled and her arms ached. The buzz of the vibrator was maddening and unpredictable, both under and overwhelming by turns. But perhaps if she concentrated and rode it out, she’d be able to come. “No?” Nathan queried when she remained stubbornly silent. “Fine. Maybe I’ll just switch it off and leave you here.”“You wouldn’t dare!” Ursula’s eyes flew open, glaring daggers at him.“Oh?” He tilted his head to the side, amused by how wrecked she must look. He gave her thigh a patronizing pat as he jostled the wand against her soaked underwear. “And what are you going to do about it?”“I’ll… I’ll—oh!” She trailed off, biting her lip as the vibrations ramped up again, creating a steady, relentless pulse between her legs that still wasn’t enough.“Sorry, what was that?” Nathan teased.Inspiration struck.“I’ll tell Mister V on you.”It was an utterly ridiculous thing to say, but Ursula heard the hitch in his breath that told her the idea wasn’t entirely without merit. Despite his current illusion of cool-headed control, Nathan was not immune to the lure of having someone to answer to. Someone who, for once, wasn’t her. And Mister V, with his soft-spoken mannerism and mysterious appeal, had taken up that mantle in Nathan’s head.Ursula could work with that.“And what’s he going to do about it?” Nathan laughed, the sound coming out shakier than before. “Order me to make you come?”“Maybe.” Ursula arched her back, trying to press up against the vibrator. Nathan was unobliging and moved it away again. “Maybe not. Maybe he’s got a sadistic streak like you and just likes to watch people squirm.” She tilted her head up and gave Nathan her best, prettiest, most vicious grin. “Or maybe he’d let me get off, but not you.”Nathan’s breath caught on a groan. “That’s cheating,” he complained.“Probably,” Ursula agreed, catching her breath as Nathan withdrew the wand again. “But you like it.” To emphasize her point, she nudged his thigh with her foot, brushing against the hard outline of his cock straining against his jeans. Nathan groaned again, and Ursula gasped as the vibrator returned to her clitoris, the speed increasing. “You like the idea of him watching you fuck me until I can’t… can’t take anymore—oh my God, that’s so good.”It was almost too much. The vibrator only worked for so long before pleasure turned to numbness. Nathan’s knowledge of her body had kept her skillfully on edge, riding the wave of pleasure threatening to crash over her but never letting it crest. She was half expecting him to pull the toy away again as punishment for wrangling control of the game they were playing away from him, but no such punishment came. Instead, Ursula’s back arched as the toy switched to a new setting: a low, rolling throb that juddered upwards in intensity, pulsing rapidly. The sharp contrast of sensations flared through her, and Ursula came with a harsh, startled cry.Nathan usually liked to talk her through her release, guiding her with soft, crooning words of praise—as though reaching orgasm was worthy of reward. But there were no words of affirmation here. No pet names or indulgent murmurings. Just blinding, white-hot pleasure that swept through her without warning. When she opened her eyes, Ursula saw why. Nathan looked about as wrecked as she felt, his breath coming in short, ragged pants as he watched her come down.Anyone would have thought it was him who’d just had an earth-shattering orgasm wrung out of him.“What’s the matter?” she asked, her words slurring giddily together as she giggled. “Cat got your tongue.” She wriggled her hips enticingly, drawing his gaze back between her thighs. Nathan let out a soft, almost injured sound. If possible, his eyes grew even darker, a deep, brick-red flush staining his cheeks. When he still didn’t move, Ursula realized she might have tipped the game too far out of his control and rendered them both useless and subby. It’d happened more than once. Fortunately, Ursula was quicker to regain her equilibrium than he was. She gave him a gentle nudge on the outside of his thigh with her foot. When that failed, she clicked the red light switch in her hand. Nathan’s gaze snapped to her face in an instant. “I’m not safe-wording,” she assured him and turned the light off again. “I just need you to focus. What do you need?”“You.”It was so heartfelt and wrecked with desire, Ursula felt her heart clench. Her body felt light and tingly, but she wasn’t done yet either. She could still feel the needy clutch of tension at her core—an ache between her thighs that begged to be filled. And there was only one thing she wanted to fill it with.Letting go of the headboard, Ursula held her arms out to him. “Come get me, then.”It was almost comical how quickly he pounced. Nathan dropped the vibrator on the bed and enveloped her in the strong warmth of his arms, crushing their mouths together as he kissed her over and over again. With the illusion of control shattered, Nathan fumbled, trying to divest her of her underwear and free himself from his jeans at the same time.“One thing at a time, love,” Ursula reminded him between kisses, giving him a reassuring pat on the back. When it became clear he was struggling with which thing to do first, Ursula gave him a helping hand. Nathan stilled and groaned into the side of her neck as she wrapped her hand around the hard length of his cock. She pulled him free and began stroking him off with long, even pulls. “That’s it,” she encouraged, purring directly into his good ear. “Let me hear how much you want it.”“Oh, fuck me.” Nathan shuddered, already thrusting against the loose circle of her fist, as though he couldn’t help himself. Ursula had never seen him so keyed up before.“We could do that if you want,” she said, feeling an answering shiver ripple through her body as Nathan moaned again. “I was hoping you’d do me first, though.”Nathan swore again and pulled away from her just long enough to shuck out of his jeans. He leaned precariously over the side of the bed and swiped up the bottle of lube they kept on the nightstand. Ursula was wet enough they likely wouldn’t need it, but she also knew you could never have too much lube. Taking himself in hand with a heartfelt groan, Nathan slicked himself from root to tip. She was half tempted to ask him to jerk off over her, but before she could, he pulled down the ruined silk of her briefs and pushed into her in one fluid motion.They gasped in unison, clinging to each other as a mutual shudder of ecstasy rolled over them.“Oh God, you feel amazing,” Nathan breathed out, already panting. “Fuck, you always feel so good.”“Good to know.” Ursula laughed, the sound hitching in her chest as he rolled his hips forward, moving inside her with slow, shallow thrusts. It felt good. Slow and gentle, but it wasn’t enough. Ursula hooked her ankles behind his lower back, shifting position. The new angle caused him to thrust deeper. “For what it’s worth,” she gasped, feeling his cock drag over the clenching walls of her cunt, “I love how you feel inside me. I love how hot and hard you get and how you—oh!”Nathan snapped his hips forward, grinding against her in a move that let her rub her clit off him at the same time. “This?” he asked, still sly and cocksure in his ability to bring her off, even when she could feel him trembling with his own need. “God, yes,” Ursula hissed, raking her nails over his muscled back. She felt him flinch, then arch into the sensation, chasing the pain. “I love it when you do that.”He repeated the move a few more times, urged on by Ursula tightening her grip around his waist with her legs. She could feel him getting closer with every thrust, could feel his cock throb inside of her, the muscles in his body coiling tighter and tighter as he fought to hold his orgasm off for as long as possible. His rhythm fell apart when she squeezed around him, the broken sound of his moan heady and gratifying. Ursula did it again, just to feel him shudder and moan.“Close,” he warned, his voice cracking apart on another whine of pleasure as she raked her nails over his already raw back. “Really, really fucking close.”“Do you want to come inside me?” Ursula asked, affecting the same playful air of authority he had with her earlier, as though she was offering him a privilege and not the very thing she knew she needed to come herself. She fucking loved feeling him pulse inside of her, adored the sounds he made and the way he clung to her.Nathan nodded, his entire being seemly focused on holding himself back, waiting for permission. Which was no fun, Ursula decided. Sweet as it was, she was suddenly consumed with the desire to wreck him, and she suspected she knew just how to achieve it.“Fuck me like he’s watching,” she purred, low and close to his ear, sucking bruising kisses to the side of his neck. “Fuck me like he’s watching, and you’re not allowed to come until I do.”Nathan made a strangled sound in the back of his throat; part arousal, part despair, as a full-body shudder wracked through him. He moved suddenly, hoisting her hips higher off the bed and thrusting into her with renewed vigor. Ursula yelped, clutching at his wrists for something to hold on to as he adjusted his grip again, the deeper angle allowing his cock to drag over her g-spot with every thrust.“Oh, fuck. God yes, faster!” she pleaded, her breath coming out in ragged pants as Nathan did his best to comply. She could feel him shaking in earnest now. A sheen of sweat broke out over his flushed skin, his entire body taut like a coiled spring on the cusp of flying apart. Yet he still had the presence of mind to reach for her with his fingers, thumbing her oversensitive clit. Ursula arched with a wild cry. “Oh, oh yes, fuck. God yes, Nathan fuck. You fuck me so good. You’re so good. I love you so much.”She was babbling, but even mindless with need; she knew she’d cheated by using the magic words. Nathan’s mouth fell open in a low, desperate sound of pleasure as his body went rigid above her, frozen in ecstasy as he came hard and deep inside of her. Ursula arched with a cry of her own, clinging to him as she felt him pulse inside her, filling her up as her second orgasm crashed over her with blinding intensity.“Fuck me gently,” Nathan rasped out, still panting heavily as he lowered her gently to the mattress. He laughed suddenly, a visceral shudder wracking through him as he shook sweat-damp hair out of his eyes and looked down at her. “Are you all right?”Laid out in the wreckage of carnal delight, Ursula let out a gurgling, giddy laugh. “I’m fucking perfect, darling. How are you?”It was a serious question despite her tone, and Nathan treated it as such. He frowned, clearly struggling with his thoughts as post-orgasm clarity and utter satiation fought for dominance. After a second, he lowered himself against her, resting his elbows on either side of her to keep from crushing her. He nodded, blinking at her as though he were struggling to keep her in focus. “I think I lost some brain cells,” he said at last, and Ursula snorted with laughter.“In a good way?” she asked, sweeping his shaggy brown curls out of his eyes. She felt his cock twitch again inside of her, his body mirroring the aftershocks that rippled through her own.“Good,” Nathan said, letting his head drop to her chest as his limbs finally gave out. He was heavy, but Ursula didn’t mind.Another shiver rippled over him, and Ursula soothed her hands over his back, murmuring soft words of affection as he regrouped. After a short while, she became aware of him nuzzling against her chest. She arched an eyebrow, looking down at the top of his curly head. “You’re not this normally into my tits.”Nathan tilted his head up and gave her a sheepish grin that made her heart flutter. “Sorry, it’s soft.”“Yes, dear,” she said, wondering if he had lost some brain cells. “Tits normally are.”He huffed with laughter. “No. The dress.” He extracted himself from her hold, finally slipping free as he rolled off and cuddled against her side. “The velvet feels nice.”Ursula looked down at herself. Her lovely new dress was crumpled to bits, stained with sweat, slick, and cum. She sighed. It was a good thing their dry cleaner was also a member of Club Wyrd. It made things so much less awkward.Speaking of awkward, they’d failed to put a towel down, and Ursula was keenly aware of his cum leaking out of her. She wriggled free of his embrace and crouched over him to press a kiss to his upturned mouth.“I love you too,” he murmured as she pulled back, and Ursula beamed down at him.“I know, darling. Right.” She pushed up onto her feet, intending to step over him. “Time to pee, then shower. Why don’t you order food, and then maybe we can—excuse you.” Ursula looked down to where Nathan’s fingers had wrapped around her ankle, rooting her to the bed. “I have things to do.”“Gimme a sec,” Nathan said, leaning over the side of the bed where he’d discarded his jeans. He came back up a second later, phone in hand. Still holding her in place, he thumbed open the screen one-handed and aimed it up at her.Ursula stared down at him. “What are you doing?”Nathan grinned crookedly at her, the sound of the camera’s digital shutter obscenely loud as he let go of her ankle and motioned for her to twirl around. “Saying thank you.” ✨ Halfway across the city, Vlad sat propped against his headboard, scrolling lazily through the Internet. He was just about to close the lid of his laptop and go to bed when his phone chimed beside him. Without looking, he picked it up, the screen opening directly into his and Ursula’s conversation thread. To his surprise, however, there was no new message at the bottom. Frowning, he flipped back to the main messaging app. His heart did a funny, skittering leap when he saw Nathan’s name highlighted at the top. Vlad opened the message and was greeted by a video attachment.He hesitated.They’d never sent him a video before.Vlad clicked on it, wondering just what they’d sent him. He didn’t have to wonder for long. Heat rushed to his face as the image of Ursula filled his screen, wearing the black velvet dress she’d shown off for him this morning. She was bouncing up and down on what was unmistakable a bed, her hair wild and disheveled, and an impish expression on her pink, glowing cheeks. She looked for want of better phrasing, completely and utterly fucked.“No,” Nathan’s low intonation said, soft and stern over the audio. Ursula pouted beautifully in the general direction of the camera, and Vlad felt his pulse leap. “Stop jumping. Come on, let’s see it.”Vlad couldn’t suppress the wounded sound that escaped his chest as Ursula looked directly into the camera, her expression coy as she bit her lip and twirled. The skirt flared out high enough for Vlad to realize she likely wasn’t wearing anything underneath it. He suddenly couldn’t remember how to breathe.“What do you say?” Nathan prompted.Grinning, Ursula turned to face the camera again, her voice taking on a sweet, sing-song giggle that sent all the blood in Vlad’s body rushing to his cock, followed by his hand.“Thank you, Mister V.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Vlad pulled up to the wrought-iron gates that barred the way to his old family home. He leaned out the driver’s window and pressed the call button. The speaker came alive with a burst of static, the voice on the other side hollow and tinny. “Who is it?”Vlad leaned toward the camera he knew was pointed at him and flipped his sunglasses up. The scraping grind of metal followed an obnoxious buzz as the gates shuddered open. Vlad followed the winding driveway up to the house, the familiar void of dread opening in his stomach the closer he got. He never enjoyed coming home, but it’d gotten worse since his father’s dementia onset. It’d gotten particularly bad of late, and Vlad never knew what he would find when he arrived.He pulled up next to his stepmother’s eye-smarting pink vintage Cadillac and looked up at the building that’d been his childhood home. It’d been a beautiful old house once. A late-nineteenth-century building with a unique gothic charm that a series of disastrous renovations had utterly destroyed. Vlad glowered at the expansions, sneering at the faux marble columns and the mismatched siding. It was a horrific amalgamation of architectural faux pas held together by the sin of too much money and not enough taste. Vlad hated it. The interior wasn’t much better, but at least Lady Margarete was consistent with her stylistic choices. Even if that meant there was leopard print velour everywhere.“Vlad, darling!” his stepmother trilled as he let himself inside. She descended the marble staircase in a flurry of leopard print and pastel cashmere. A small army of yapping dogs followed at her heels. “Kiss, kiss,” she demanded, leaning in to press exaggerated air kisses to either side of his cheeks. “How are you? Can I get you anything? Coffee? Iced tea?”Vlad’s gaze went to the martini glass in her hand, noting the three olives floating in it. It was probably her breakfast. He tore his gaze away from it. “No, thank you.”“I’ll get you some iced tea,” Lady Margaret ignored him. Vlad rolled his eyes, following her as she tottered into the kitchen.“Have you eaten yet?” she asked, spinning to face him in the cavernous space, her heels clicking loudly. “I can make you some eggs? How about some bacon? Toast?”Vlad sighed and came to sit at the slab of marble that served as the kitchen island. “Will it make any difference if I say no?”A glass of iced tea was set in front of him, along with the pitcher. It was sickeningly sweet, but Vlad sipped at it, anyway. He’d been developing a better tolerance for sweet things of late. He barely winced now.“I’ll make you some toast,” Lady Margarete informed him. “I’m convinced you don’t eat enough.”Vlad rolled his eyes again. Lady Margarete was a scant few years older than him, but she still insisted on mothering him. She’d married Vlad’s father when he was sixteen. A mortifying age for anyone, but especially so when your fifty-year-old father married the twenty-year-old babysitter from next door. Out of all his stepmothers, of which there’d been many, Lady Margarete was the only one that’d seemed to care about him, though God knew why. She was kind to a fault and fatalistically cheerful, and Vlad couldn’t help but like her. Even if she’d insisted on calling him ‘dear’ in front of his friends and showing up at parent-teacher conferences.“How is he?” Vlad asked, reaching down to scoop up one of the yapping dogs pawing desperately at his leg. “Which one are you?” he asked it, peering at the rhinestone-studded collar buried beneath a thick frill of fur. He thought it might be a Pomeranian. “Mitzy,” he sighed, “of course it is. All right, Mitzy, up we come.”He settled the dog in his lap, petting it distractedly. Like all small dogs, it vibrated with the nervous energy of a creature just smart enough to be aware of its place in the universal food chain, which was somewhere near the bottom, next to canapes and other small things designed to be swallowed in a single bite. Vlad’s grandfather’s dogs wouldn’t have even stopped to chew.“Did you say something?” Lady Margarete asked, bustling back into view with a frying pan in hand.“I said, how is he?” Vlad repeated, watching as she reached into the drawer refrigerator to pull out a carton of eggs. So much for just ‘toast,’ Vlad thought wryly.“Oh, you know how he is.” She cracked eggs into a bowl. “He’s a grumpy old sourpuss before his morning coffee.” She paused, thinking about it. “And after, too.”“That’s one way of putting it,” Vlad said, sipping from his tea again.“Don’t worry,” his stepmother replied, reaching for milk salt and a bottle of vanilla extract and whisking them into the eggs. “I put a little something in his coffee this morning.”“Cyanide?” Vlad asked hopefully.Lady Margarete tittered with laughter. “No, silly. I gave him one of my Xanax. Pass the butter; there’s a dear.”Vlad wasn’t sure whether to be horrified or grateful and settled for somewhere in between. His father’s temper had always been cantankerous at the best of times, and Vlad was used to being the moving target of his father’s ire. Ever since he’d grown into the slender proportions of his mother, his gray-green eyes dark and muddy like hers. The copious drug habit he’d picked up in high school hadn’t helped much, either. Nor the string of arrests that followed.Vlad thought it was impressive that he hadn’t turned out worse, considering their family history.“I think if we’re at the stages of drugging him against his will to keep him civil, it might be time to reconsider that assisted living program,” Vlad said. “Or the funeral home. I’m fine with either. I’m sure we could make it look like natural causes.”Lady Margarete gave him a stern look over the top of her cat-eye glasses. “Vlad, dear, I know your humor tends toward the macabre, but sometimes I wonder.” She cut a slab of bread from an artisanal loaf of bread, and Vlad watched as she dipped it into the egg batter. “Besides, they’re prescription,” she added, as though that made it any better. “How’s Elizabeth?” she asked and dropped the battered bread into the hot skillet.Vlad shrugged. “Fine. Last time I saw her.”“When was that?”Vlad thought about it. He felt sure they’d seen each other since their impromptu breakfast together on the porch, but he couldn’t name a time. “Last week?”Lady Margarete tsked in a matronly fashion, nudging the contents of the pan with a spatula. “I wish you two would try harder to get along. A marriage takes work, you know.”“Yes,” Vlad said, matching her tone with a brittle, manic one of his own. “I know. We’ve been married almost as long as you and Father. Look, sorry, can we not talk about her right now?”“Is it that bad?” she asked, her painted lips pursing together in concern.Vlad opened his mouth, then closed it. He was still for so long the dog in his lap wriggled free and jumped onto the stool next to him, unnoticed. The truth was, things had never been better between them. However, that was only because it was impossible to argue with someone who was never home. Vlad cleared his throat. “Elizabeth is rarely home anymore. I’m fine with it.”“You can’t mean that, surely,” Lady Margarete persisted, and Vlad forced himself not to snap at her for not letting the subject drop as he’d asked.As fucked up as their family dynamic was, Lady M always tried to look out for him. True, she’d embarrassed the life out of him for most of his teen years, but she’d also shown up for him when no one else had. It’d been Lady Margarete who’d picked him up after all the catastrophic fights with his father that led to chaotic spirals into oblivion. Paid his bail, drove him home. Drove him to and from juvenile rehab—kept taking him to appointments when anyone with more sense and less heart would have given up. They were, if not quite friends, then allies. United in the efforts to survive his father’s temper, and then later on doing whatever it took to shelter Riya from the worst of it.He sighed; fiddling with the knife and fork, Lady Margarete slid across the counter to him. “I don’t know anymore. Whatever she’s doing, it makes her happier than I ever did. So, who am I to stop her?”Lady Margarete placed a consoling hand over his. “You’ll figure this out. You always do. Now, eat.” She shoveled the thick slab of French toast onto the plate in front of him. “You’ll feel better with something in you aside from coffee and cigarettes. You’re not twenty anymore, you know.”“Don’t I know it,” Vlad muttered. He picked up his fork and eyed the fried bread. He was hungry, he realized, ravenously so, now that it'd been pointed out to him. His phone vibrated suddenly in his pocket and Vlad clamped a hand over it. By the pattern it made against his leg, he could tell that the message had come from either Nathan or Ursula. The rapid little beats sent a conditioned thrill of anticipation up his spine, and Vlad had to force himself not to abandon the food in front of him and see what they wanted.It was hard to believe it’d only been a week since Nathan sent Vlad that first wave of contact. It wasn’t the easy-flowing conversations he enjoyed with Ursula—largely because Ursula wasn’t there to fill most of the silence—but there was an endearing charm to the younger man’s shyness. If you could call sending a highly suggestive video of your girlfriend to another man shy. Still, it made Vlad feel better about his own stilted conversation skills, though he thought he was getting better at it. He’d even started to mimic Ursula’s habit of injecting emojis into his texts. The first time he’d done it, she’d told him she was proud.Somehow, Vlad believed her.“What do you want to do for your birthday?” Lady Margarete asked, intruding upon his thoughts as she waggled thinly painted eyebrows at him. “It’s coming up, you know.”Vlad watched as she reached over the counter, a second fork in hand, and stole some of his breakfast. Vlad had expected this, however, and had already divided his meal into bite-size proportions accordingly. It was a ritual between them that spanned back over two decades.“Please don’t remind me,” he said, picking at his food. “Nothing. I want to do nothing.”Lady Margarete made a small, affronted sound. “You must do something. It’s not every day you turn forty. It’s special.”Vlad sighed. Elizabeth was always the one who organized these things. Expensive parties, which he hated, surrounded by people he barely tolerated and fueled by copious amounts of alcohol he couldn’t, shouldn’t have. He’d fallen off the wagon spectacularly two years before and had spent the following year scraping his sobriety back together. And even then, she’d thrown a lavish party for him last year.It was almost like she wanted him to fail.“You’re right,” he said, stabbing a morsel of food with renewed vigor. “It’s my birthday, and I’ll do what I want.”“That’s the spirit!” Lady Margarete beamed.“And I want to do nothing.”Lady Margarete sighed and wisely let the subject drop. ✨ The study was eerily quiet and dark when Vlad knocked on the imposing oak door and stepped inside. It was also stiflingly hot; the thick velvet drapes were drawn firmly across the windows to deter any drafts, and a hearty fire crackled in the old stone hearth. Even then his father sat with his chin resting against his chest, draped in what appeared to be several plaid blankets. Cold and unmoving. The image made ice creep over Vlad's heart.“Father?”The Count’s head jerked up, and Vlad allowed himself a quiet sigh. The old man blinked owlishly in his direction. “Is that you, Uladzimir?”“Hello, Father,” Vlad greeted him, gritting his teeth to keep from protesting the use of his hated given name. He’d been named for his grandfather, a man who, if possible, was even more ruthless in business than Vlad’s father. He’d always hated the name, but it was a family tradition and a conditional part of his inheritance, so he’d learned to live with it. “How are you today?”“Cold.” His father made a disgruntled sound in the back of his throat. “Always cold.” He nodded toward the newspaper on the coffee table as Vlad took the seat opposite him. “What do you think of that, then? Another war in Bhalein. Senseless.”Vlad reached for the broadsheet, scanning the sensationalist headline. He’d heard it on the radio this morning in the car, a sinking hole opening up in the pit of his stomach. There’d been far too many wars in his lifetime. Nevrond had barely recovered since the last one. “It certainly will be a senseless loss of lives,” he said.His father gave an amused grunt and arched a wiry eyebrow at him. “I meant the location. There can’t be any more than fifty years’ worth of oil left in the region. They’d be better hitting further out West.”“I’m sure,” Vlad said blandly, just trying to get through this meeting without having a stress aneurism. He really hated how cold and pragmatic his father could be sometimes.“Well, come on then.” His father straightened up in his chair and held his hand out. “Let’s see what mess you’ve made of my empire…”Vlad handed over his iPad; the relevant information already pulled up.“Humph,” his father grunted after a time, finding nothing to pick at. “Well then, all that seems in order. How did that meeting go on Wednesday? The one with uh…” He faltered, and Vlad couldn’t tell if it was from the Xanax Lady Margarete slipped him or the natural progression of his illness.“Ingleton Industries,” Vlad supplied, and his father snapped his fingers as though the name had been on the tip of his tongue. “It went well. The merger is going ahead in late November. We’ll be retaining most of their staff…”He droned on, recounting the meeting and most of his week as his father listened, interrupting him every so often to ask for more details. When Vlad eventually ran out of things to say, his father nodded, looking thoughtful. “That all sounds adequate,” he said, his gaze drifting around the room. After a moment, he asked, “Is Elizabeth not with you?”Vlad blinked, thrown by the sudden change in topic. “No. She had some errands to run, but she sends her love.”His father cackled, his gaze fixing Vlad with sudden laser-sharp clarity. “Somehow, I doubt that. What could be more important than visiting family? Are we so unimportant here? Or has she found out about your little business expenses?”“I don’t… what?” Vlad swallowed, feeling as though someone had dunked a bucket of cold water over him.“Oh, so you thought I wouldn’t notice you moving money around? I might be growing old and senile, boy, but don’t take me for a fool just yet. What’s her name?”“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” Vlad stood up, suddenly feeling like the food he’d eaten was about to come back up in reverse. “You must be tired. I’ll let you rest.”“Fine, be that way.” His father gave him a sideways glance that was perversely proud looking. “But I always said the apple never falls far from the tree. No matter how much it protests. Say hello to your wife for me,” he called after Vlad’s rapidly departing back, letting out a low, coughing cackle. “Whenever you see her.” ✨ “I thought we were doing brunch tomorrow,” Vlad protested, drumming his fingers agitatedly against the steering wheel and cursing when the lights turned red again. He didn’t think a single car had moved. He fucking hated driving in the inner city on weekends. “For fuck’s sake.”“Excuse me?” Elizabeth’s voice dropped several degrees towards glacial over the car speaker.“Not you,” Vlad said, “the traffic.”“Oh.” He heard the clink of ice on glass in the background, followed by the telltale glug of a bottle being poured. Vlad clenched his jaw until his teeth ached. “Where are you, anyway?” she asked.“I had to go into the office.” He hadn’t, but after the meeting with his father, Vlad couldn’t face the thought of going home, either. It was easier to bury himself in work than face the thoughts swirling through his head.“Well, Emily called, and they wanted to know if we could do dinner tonight instead. Something about water polo in the morning. I said yes.”“But I—” Vlad cut himself off, realizing what he’d been about to say. I have plans.Plans to sit in front of his laptop and watch two young, beautiful people be hopelessly in love with each other. How had his father known? That was what Vlad couldn’t figure out. Had he left a paper trail somewhere? Or was it just a lucky guess? Vlad was meticulous about keeping tabs on everything, so a lucky guess was more likely. His father had probably just seen him moving money around and assumed the worst. The worst, which just so happened to be true.
Fuck.
“But you what?” Elizabeth prompted, then added, “You said you’d come.”“I said I’d come to brunch tomorrow,” Vlad corrected. He pulled his phone out, checking his emails. If he was going to be trapped at this red light for the rest of eternity, he might as well keep working.“Fine, if you don’t want to come…” Elizabeth sighed. Laughably, she almost sounded hurt. As though she didn’t go out without him every other night of the week as it was already. “I just thought it’d be nice to spend some time together with some friends.”Vlad let out a sigh and leaned his head against the steering wheel. “Where are we meeting them?”“Nowhere special, just the country club.”Vlad looked down at what he was wearing. Black jeans and a collared shirt rumpled to shit from rolling his sleeves up and pacing around his office. He had a sweater hanging in the back seat that he could probably throw over it. Not exactly club attire, but it’d have to do. Besides, his family owned half the fucking building. They could deal with him showing up, looking like a hot mess. “Take a cab there, and I’ll drive us both home?” he asked, giving in.“Fine.” The line went dead, and Vlad resumed his blank stare out the window at the surrounding traffic. The lights changed again, and no one moved. Again. Forgotten in his lap, Vlad’s phone chimed. He picked it up. Ursula wanted to know if they were still on for tonight. Vlad sighed and tapped out an apology, then threw his phone onto the empty seat beside him. It chimed again, but he didn’t bother to pick it up.The traffic lights turned green again, and nothing moved. Vlad put his head down on the steering wheel and breathed.
What the fuck was he doing with his life?
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The interior of the country clubhouse was dimly lit, the smell of tweed, stale alcohol, and smoke embedded in the walls. Vlad closed his nose to it as best he could and headed for the dining room. He spied Elizabeth instantly. She was sitting at their usual table with Jeremy Carlisle and his wife, Emily, looking regal in a pale blue dress, her blonde hair catching gold in the candlelight that flickered around the room. He couldn’t tell from this difference, but he thought she looked flushed.Their eyes met, and Vlad jolted at being caught staring, but it was Emily Carlisle who waved and rose to greet him.“Vlad, darling!” the diminutive woman said, leaning up on tiptoe to press a chaste kiss to his cheek as he approached the table. “What took you so long? We were getting ready to send out a search party!”“Sorry,” Vlad apologized to the table, returning the kiss politely. “Traffic was a nightmare. Jeremy.” He reached out to take the other man’s hand and braced himself for the crushing handshake he knew was coming.“Good to see you,” Jeremy drawled. True to character, he slapped his hand against Vlad’s in a ridiculous machismo play for power. “Did you take 66th down or get stuck on the switchback?”As friends of his wife went, Vlad didn’t mind Emily. She was sweet and inoffensive, if perhaps somewhat ditzy. On the other hand, Jeremy annoyed the absolute piss out of him. He was tall and handsome, in the generic reality TV sort of way, with perfect white teeth, the perfect tan no matter the season, and never a hair out of place. That alone was not enough to make Vlad hate him, but there was just something about his mannerism that made him, well, a bit of a Chad. It was all too easy to imagine him walking down the corridor in high school and shoving scrawny kids into lockers. Kids like Vlad.But Vlad hadn’t gotten the scars across his knuckles by going lightly.He gritted his teeth into a smile and returned the gesture, squeezing back. “No, I got off at 65th. Thought the traffic might be better.” He laughed shortly and released the other man’s hand. “Clearly, not the case.”The table laughed with him as he sat, and Elizabeth turned expectantly toward him. Vlad leaned in without thinking. Their lips brushed together in the merest of kisses; cool, polite, and impersonal.Elizabeth pulled back first and reached for her wineglass. “Honestly, I swear that entire part of the city ought to be torn down. They could redo the roads so much better without all those scummy apartment buildings in the way.”Her words slurred slightly, and Vlad wondered how much she’d already had to drink. He coughed politely and reached for his goblet of water. “I think the people that live there might object to that, dear.”Elizabeth rolled her eyes and smiled fondly. As though he’d said something sweet but tiring. “Well, never mind all that; how’s your father?”Vlad started at the question but recovered his composure quickly. “Oh, you know.” He waved his hand in the air. “Doddering a little. A lot, actually. He forgot the name of Ingleton Industries this morning.”“Oh, that’s awful.” Elizabeth made a sympathetic sound and reached across the table to clasp his hand in a wifely display of concern. It was so sincere; Vlad could have almost believed it. Almost. A part of him even wanted to. “Well, I’m sure Lady M is taking good care of him.”I’m not, Vlad thought, taking a long sip from his water to avoid perjuring himself by talking any further. Mercifully, Elizabeth had already ordered for him, and their food soon arrived. Vlad busied himself eating as Elizabeth carried the conversation for their side of the table. Occasionally, she would reach out and rest her hand on his arm or turn bright, shining eyes toward him as she laughed.And Vlad… felt nothing.Not a damn thing.So, he smiled politely, made all the right noises at the right time, and felt like he was outside of himself. A stranger looking in on the moment. Watching the table from above and cataloging the expressions of everyone present. The shrillness of their laughter and the insincerity of their smiles. Especially his own.This isn’t my life, a distant thought said.Yes, it is, another countered. This is the one you chose…But it didn’t have to be.Vlad blinked, taken aback by the certainty of that realization. He felt it wash over him, settling in his bones. He was, he realized, teetering somewhere on the verge of absolute panic and utter serenity. And it was a choice. A choice between accepting this newfound revelation or rejecting it and carrying on as things were. All he had to do was pick a side.“Right!” Jeremy slapped his hand down on the table, making Vlad jump. “Let’s get this party started. What are we drinking?” He gestured a server over with a brusque snap of his fingers. “Lizzy, what’ll it be?”Lizzy, Vlad thought, scrunching his nose up at the other man’s use of the diminutive. No one called her Lizzy, not even him. Elizabeth’s face twitched, her smile cooling several degrees, but she recovered quickly. “Gin and tonic, I think.”“Is that wise?” Vlad asked, straining to keep his tone light and neutral. He watched as she drained her wineglass, her fourth one since he’d joined them. “You always say it gives you the worst headache.”Headache, Vlad thought, never a hangover. Elizabeth would never stoop to anything so vulgar as that.“Nonsense,” Elizabeth dismissed him with a light swot on the arm. “Besides, it’s tequila that makes me ill.”“Oh, same!” Emily agreed, wrinkling her pretty button nose. “Horrible stuff. I’ll have the same. Gin and tonic.”“Old-fashioned for me,” Jeremy said to the server before turning expectantly to Vlad. “What about you, Vlad?”Vlad turned to the server, waiting, poised to take his order. “Lemonade, please. Thank you.”“What?” Jeremy leaned forward, his eyes wide in a mockery of shock. He gave Vlad a hearty slap on the shoulder, further compounding Vlad’s locker-shoving suspicions. “You’re not going to drink with us?” he demanded.“I’m driving,” Vlad said.“So? You can have at least one. He’ll have—”“A lemonade, please,” Vlad reiterated to the server, forcing himself to smile. The server fled before anyone else could interfere with his order. But Jeremy wasn’t satisfied yet.The other man scoffed and gave Vlad an arch look. “Don’t tell me you’re turning over a new leaf. What is it, some health kick?”Vlad renamed him Chadley in his head.“Something like that,” he murmured, all too aware of their eyes boring into him. It wasn’t the alcohol that was the problem. He’d been around it all night and felt fine. No, it was the peer pressure. The expectation was that he could have just one and be fine, like a normal person. Except it never was just one, and Vlad wasn’t normal. He was broken.Just like his mother.“You’ll make the rest of us look bad.” Emily laughed, and Vlad forced another smile onto his face.“Impossible. I’m sure nothing could ever make you look bad, Emily.”Their drinks were set on the table, and Vlad felt his skin prickle. He glanced away, aware of his palms sweating as his fingers closed around the chilled beverage in front of him. He wanted to reach for the sobriety chip in his pocket. Clutch it close like a talisman. But he couldn’t do that. Not here. No one knew; that was the problem. Oh, they knew all the funny stories, and they knew he could get a little wild-eyed around the seventh, eighth, or ninth drink. But no one knew what it cost him. How hard-won his sobriety was. Only Elizabeth knew. Elizabeth, who was watching him, her pale eyes narrowed. All too late, Vlad realized what he’d done.He’d complimented Emily.It was such a small, throwaway comment he’d barely thought about it, but it hadn’t gone unnoticed from the look on Elizabeth’s face. Vlad opened his mouth to try and correct his error, but before he could, Elizabeth’s face broke into a smile as though the moment had never happened. She leaned forward and draped her arm around his shoulders. “You’ll have to excuse him,” she said, taking a sip from her drink as she leaned in even further, her face and tone dripping with saccharine malice Vlad knew only he could hear. “I’m afraid Vlad’s just no fun anymore.”Around him, the table laughed, and Vlad smiled. He smiled and smiled and smiled. It was the only way to keep from screaming. ✨ Vlad was in Hell. He’d died sometime around about the cheeseboard, and this was Hell. It certainly felt like eternal suffering as one drink turned into two, then three, then four. By the fifth round, he was going out of his mind: his heart pounding hard enough between his ears to give him a headache. At least now, they’d moved down to the waterfront, enabling Vlad to chain-smoke and fill his lungs until they burned as hot as the desperation clawing at his insides. But it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough, and they kept offering. Kept insisting. Come on, just one. Just one can’t hurt. Loosen up. Have some fun.Vlad could feel himself starting to fray.He mumbled some reason to excuse himself and made a beeline back to the clubhouse. His steps faltered outside the bar, then rapidly sped up as he powered his way out through the front door, fumbling in his pockets for his car keys. Elizabeth would be furious with him if he left her here, but Vlad didn’t care. Couldn’t care. Couldn’t breathe. All he knew was that he had to get out of here. Out, out, out.His legs gave out halfway across the grassy knoll that led to the carpark—turned to jelly by the sobbing panic threatening to claw free from his chest. He fumbled for his phone and dialed the only person he could talk to. It rang out to voicemail, and Vlad tried again. His hands were shaking so badly he could barely bring his cigarette to his mouth. “Come on, pick up, pick up, please…”“Hello?”Vlad almost sobbed with relief. “Allen? Hi, sorry it’s—”“Vlad! How are you?” his sponsor asked, sounding genuinely pleased to hear from him. For some reason, that was what broke him.“Not, not good,” he admitted, unsure whether the sound that escaped his chest was a laugh or a sob. “Sorry, I know it’s not our usual day. Is this a bad time?”“No! No, of course not!” Allan reassured him hurriedly. “Let me just find my headset. There we are. Are you all right? Where are you?”Vlad drew in a gulping breath and pulled his knees up to his chest. He felt pitiful sitting here on the grass. Weak and pitiful. Which he was. Vlad was a terrible person. But he was trying. He was trying so Goddamned hard to be better. “Uh, the country club,” he said, his teeth chattering together. “At the bar. Well, no, not at the bar. I walked past the bar, and now I’m sitting outside on the lawn, talking to you.”“That’s good,” Allen said, and Vlad let out a hysterical giggle because it certainly didn’t feel good. “Well done,” Allan carried on, his tone supportive and soothing. “I’m proud of you for walking away and calling me. Now, why don’t you talk me through what’s going on…”Vlad hugged his knees tighter to his chest, his forgotten cigarette flaking ash onto his jeans. He ignored it. He barely even felt the pain. “I don’t think I can do this anymore…”“Do what?” Allan asked, gentler than ever.“Any of it,” Vlad admitted, aware that he’d chosen a side to fall on, and there was no going back now. “I don’t want any of this anymore…” Later, still sitting on the lawn and surrounded by the deepening twilight, Vlad watched the stars emerge in the inky darkness above him. His phone call with Allan ended some time ago—long enough for his phone battery to die and for Vlad to burn through an entire pack of cigarettes. He was still there when Elizabeth came to find him, the hem of her dress wet and her slingback heels dangling from her fingertips. She glared down at him. Neither of them moved nor spoke for several minutes. Vlad expected her to yell, but instead, she simply said, “Take me home.”Vlad stared up at her, his eyes flickering over the familiar features of the stranger he’d spent the last twenty years of his life with. He nodded. “Okay.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“—Mister V, lately?”Nathan looked up from his laptop, aware that Ursula had spoken but that he’d not heard all of it. “What was that?”She stood in the doorway; her face turned down toward her phone. “I said—”“Sorry,” Nathan interrupted her before she could carry on. “Can you look up, please?”Ursula looked up and gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I was just wondering if you’d heard anything from Mister V this week.”“Not yet.” Nathan picked up his phone and flipped to their message thread. “But he doesn’t text me that often. Not unless I text him first.”Which Nathan hadn’t. School was killing him. He had three essays due next week. His phone hadn’t been taken off ‘do not disturb’ since Monday.“He hasn’t been replying to me,” Ursula said. She worried at her bottom lip, a deep frown creasing her brows as she looked down at her phone again. “He always—sorry.” She looked up again and sat down directly across from him so he could see her lips move. “He always replies to me. Not always right away, but usually the same day.”“How long has it been?” Nathan asked.Ursula bit her lip again. “Five days.”Nathan considered this, then shrugged. “Perhaps he’s busy at work? I know I texted him in the middle of some meeting last week. Here.” He grinned crookedly and handed over his phone so she could read the message thread.N: Good morning.N: image.jpgMr. V: I can’t decide if you have the best or worst timing.Mr. V: And good morning to you, too.N: Busy day?Mr. V: Trapped in a bored meeting.Mr. V: *board meeting. Though, bored might be more accurate.Mr. V: And now thoroughly distracted. Thank you for that.N: Ur welcome ;)The attached image was, of course, of Ursula. She was sitting in front of her crowded vanity table with her naked back to the camera, sunlight spilling in through the window behind the mirror. A towel clung around her waist, accentuating the curve of her hips and the sinuous arch of her spine as she raised muscled arms to comb through the golden ringlets of her hair, her body angled in such a way that the swell of her chest was hidden. It was more artistic than lewd. A lucky shot for someone with Nathan’s limited photography skills. He’d taken the photo for himself, then after a few thoughtful minutes, sent it to Mister V, too. Ursula had already agreed that any pictures he took were fair game, and Nathan thought Mister V might appreciate it. He’d been right; the other man texted him back several hours later—likely when he escaped his boring board meeting—and commented that Ursula looked like a mermaid sitting atop a rock.N: ready to sink ships and ruin lives?Mr. V: That too.But after that, Nathan heard nothing from him. The last message he’d seen from Mister V was the one he’d sent to Ursula, apologizing for needing to cancel their Skype call on Saturday. (It wasn’t a date, Nathan reminded himself. No matter how date-like it felt.) He hadn’t given a reason, and Nathan didn’t expect him to. After all, they weren’t dating. This wasn’t a relationship. He didn’t owe them any explanations for anything.“Are you worried?” he asked Ursula, accepting his phone back.Ursula bit her lip again, something she’d evidently been doing a lot from how raw and chapped they looked. Nathan wondered how he’d missed it. “I don’t know. It just seems… odd. Like something’s wrong.”Nathan nodded. Yeah, that felt out of character. “Have you tried calling him?”“Once. It went to voicemail. I didn’t want to try again because I didn’t want to be that person.” She sighed. “Except I am that person, and my anxiety is through the roof. Ugh.”Ursula buried her head in her arms against the table. Nathan leaned forward and gently petted her hair. When he thought enough time had passed, he tapped her lightly on the head. “Hey, it’s okay. He’s okay. He’s probably just super busy.”Ursula looked up and smiled at him with sad, watery eyes. “I know, it’s just…”“Yeah,” Nathan said, “I know.”For all her outward appearances of unshakable confidence, Ursula’s bravado also protected a soft, fragile heart at its core. She cared and worried about people, even when she didn’t particularly like them. She also struggled with abandonment issues, and Nathan knew that the ex before him had a lot to answer for. Preferably in Hell.He drew in a deep breath and asked, “Do you want me to try calling him?” Nathan hated phone calls, but he’d do it for her if she asked. Ursula shook her head. “Want a cuddle?” he tried instead. Ursula shook her head, then, after a moment, nodded. Nathan’s chair scraped back over the floor as she got up and flopped sullenly into his lap. Ursula buried her face against his chest, and Nathan held her close. “He’s okay,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m sure everything’s okay. He’s probably just got a lot going on.”
More important than us.
It was a bleak, ugly thought, and Nathan refrained from saying it aloud. No matter how true it was. This whole sugaring business started out as a means to an end: to help pay for college and maybe try to save a little money on the side. And that was how it’d been for months until Mister V showed up. Their faceless benefactor, who’d taken such good care of them for months, they hadn’t needed to sugar for anyone else. Hadn’t wanted to. But despite the thoughtful contract he’d written for them, Nathan knew nothing was stopping the other man from just walking away and ending things. It wasn’t as though they were dating. They didn’t owe him anything, just like he didn’t owe anything to them. And if he was bored or if things were getting too serious for him—which, judging from Ursula’s reaction to his absence, they already were—he had every right to end things.And Nathan was fine with that.Would be fine with that.Would try to be fine with that.His interactions weren’t as in-depth as Ursula’s. He’d only really just started talking to the other man. But even from those brief encounters, Nathan got the feeling there was the promise of something more there. Friendship, for certain, though beyond that, well, he was working on it. He also believed what he'd said to Ursula. Mister V was likely just busy. He didn’t seem the type to ghost people and cut them off. Did he?Later, when Ursula had gone to bed, Nathan logged into their PayPal account. Yesterday had been the first of the month, and like clockwork, their monthly stipend had been deposited. Nathan felt like a heel for even checking, though that still didn’t stop him from going out of his way the following morning to check that the charge card he’d given them still worked. He stopped at the pharmacy and picked up the first thing he saw—a family-sized bag of assorted candy. The cashier scanned it without comment and waited for Nathan to swipe his card. When the machine prompted him, he hesitated, then selected the maximum daily cash withdrawal option that flashed up. He half expected it to decline, but the screen flashed green, and the cashier sighed.“Twenties or tens?” they asked.“Uh, twenties. Please,” Nathan said, wondering what the fuck he was supposed to do with a hundred dollars in cash. He felt so guilty for assuming Mister V might cut them off without saying goodbye, that he shoved the bills into a panhandler’s cup on his way to work, his pockets laden down with shame-candy.It nagged at him the rest of the day, a growing sense of worry about the other man creeping into his thoughts. When another twenty-four hours passed and Mister V missed their regular Skype call, Nathan conceded something was wrong. He just didn’t know what to do about it. Feigning a need to study late, Nathan waited for Ursula to go to bed and pulled his phone out. He scrolled through his message thread with Mister V, chewing despondently on a licorice stick. Nathan considered his options. He thought about calling but dismissed the idea. Nathan hated making phone calls. He always had, even before he’d partially lost his hearing. He supposed he could add to the mountain of unanswered texts Ursula had sent, but if Mister V was dealing with something, he didn’t want to add to the mental load of that burden either.Email? Did they even have his email? No, he’d used the sugaring app to send them that contract…Nathan sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. He glared down at his phone, wondering when things had gotten so complicated. Why did he even care? That’s what he couldn’t figure out. All of this was supposed to be transactional. So why did he care so much? Why was he awake at 1 am worrying about a man he’d never met? The simple answer was that Ursula cared. The less simple answer was… Nathan cared. Ridiculous as it felt, Mister V had proven himself to be not only generous but pleasant company. For a value of ‘company.” He was polite, funny, painfully respectful of their boundaries, and demanded virtually nothing of them. Just a fraction of their time and to be allowed to send them things. Though even that had tapered off lately.Nathan blinked, an idea tugging at his thoughts.He switched apps on his phone and pulled up their wish list. They hadn’t updated it in weeks; they hadn’t needed to. Their metaphorical crops were watered, their pantry was full, and their college books were amassed for the rest of the semester. Mister V had taken care of everything. Now that Nathan thought about it, there was never much time between them adding things to their list and said things arriving on their doorstep. In fact, they appeared almost immediately. Like Mister V had an email notification set up.Nathan gnawed on the ragged edge of his thumbnail, thinking furiously. It was unlikely Mister V was sulking at the lack of things to buy them—though from what Ursula told him about sugaring, there were some SDs like that. And as much as Mister V seemed to enjoy buying them things, he didn’t seem the type to throw a tantrum because he wasn’t getting his way. Nathan stared at the empty list. There wasn’t anything they needed, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t use the list to send a message.After all, wasn’t that how all of this started?Nathan sat still long enough for his phone screen to go blank. After what felt like an eternity, he reached a decision.“To heck with it.”He pulled up the app’s search bar and scrolled through the results until he found what he was looking for. Pinning it to the top of their wish list, he attached a friendly note and saved it.There, he’d done something. It’d taken all his brain cells, but he’d done it. And if it failed, well, he’d just have to think of something else. ✨ Across the city, Vlad slumped against the back of his office chair. His eyes burned—raw from too much time spent staring at his computer screen and not enough sleeping. He stared blankly at his desk. Someone had left a coffee on his desk. He hadn’t even noticed. It was stone cold, but his throat was so dry it didn’t matter.As awful as his previous week had been, Vlad was reasonably sure this one was trying to kill him.War made people nervous. It made investors nervous, and Vlad had spent several tense days locked in shareholder meetings or talking on the phone with international clients. Persuading them their money was safe with VampTech. Vlad’s father had thrived on this sort of thing in his heyday. He’d made his bones profiting on the panic of global conflict. Vlad wasn’t cut out for it. But he’d done his best. He made all the right noises and smiled reassuringly whenever anyone could see him. And put his head between his knees and breathed when they couldn’t.There had been one perk to this fiasco, though. It’d delayed the stupendous argument waiting for Vlad at home.Elizabeth hadn’t said two words to him since the night at the club. They’d spent the car ride home in silence, both isolated in their thoughts as the city lights faded into suburbia’s dim twilight, returning them to their too-big-house, with their too-big-rooms and their too-big-emotions left unsaid. It’d almost have been better if they’d yelled at each other. Screamed it out and stormed away like they always did. Though it seemed they were beyond that now.Vlad had never been beyond someone shouting at him before.He wasn’t sure what to do with a thing like that.He was still quietly furious about the ordeal but in a cold, detached sort of way. Like it was happening to someone else. Mostly, though, he just felt tired, a sentiment he’d expressed to Allan earlier today when he’d snuck out of the office to meet him for lunch.“That’s common with emotional burnout,” the retired doctor told him, heaping too many sugars and cream into a black coffee before handing it to Vlad. “And also low blood sugar. When was the last time you ate?”They’d spent the next few hours hiding in a quiet nook of the Barnes and Noble café, taking stock of Vlad’s emotional state. When it’d been deemed Vlad wasn’t at immediate risk of a relapse, he’d allowed himself to be coaxed into eating the mountain of snack food Allan had bought at the counter. Vlad hated to admit it, but it’d helped. As did the relief at knowing his sponsor thought he was handling things well, all things considered.“You did a brave thing,” Allan said as he nudged an open packet of crisps closer to Vlad’s fingers. “Walking away from temptation is hard. It’s even harder when there’s peer pressure from the people supposed to love and support us.”The words ‘supposed to’ stuck in Vlad’s craw. He knew what he and Elizabeth had wasn’t love. He wasn’t sure it ever had been, though he might have thought so once upon a time. But it still felt like pouring salt into an open wound to have someone else know the depressing extent of just how fucked up his home life was. Before they’d parted, Allan had given him another self-help book and the card of a therapist he thought Vlad might get along with. Vlad had taken both without looking at either of them. It wasn’t until he got back to the office and saw the title of the book, The Unfamiliar Faces of Domestic Abuse, that he felt a maw of dread open in his stomach. The feeling was further compounded when Vlad checked the therapist’s website and saw that they did indeed work with addiction recovery and domestic violence. Vlad wasn’t sure how he felt about that and had spent the rest of the day ricocheting wildly between annoyance, denial, and gradually, the more he read the book (after he’d retrieved it from the wastebasket), a horrible sense of recognition.There were no two ways about it: his relationship with Elizabeth was unhealthy. He knew that. But perhaps he’d underestimated how harmful it was.Vlad’s computer screen blanked, rousing him back into the present. He woke the screen up and spied the time in the lower right corner. 1:15 am. He groaned and covered his eyes, rubbing the heel of his palms against them until he saw purple splotches across the back of his eyelids. He supposed he should go home for more than a quick shower and a change of clothes. Comfortable as the couch in his office had turned out to be, he also needed to sleep in a proper bed. Preferably until all of this was over.Though deep down, Vlad knew it would never be over.Not unless he confronted it.Fuck, he hated being an adult. He’d hated being a child, too, but at least the bullshit he’d put up with hadn’t been his responsibility to fix. Vlad sighed and covered his eyes again. At least it would likely be safe to go home and sleep for a while. Elizabeth was never home on Friday nights. Perhaps, if he were lucky, he’d go the whole weekend without seeing her and be back at work on Monday before she could tear into him.Forgotten on his desk, his cell phone vibrated. With everything going on, he’d barely looked at his phone all week. Vlad winced as he caught sight of all those unread messages on his lock screen. He’d kept meaning to answer them, but the guilt at not responding had twisted up into anxiety and then into dread, and he’d made excuses not to look at his phone. Eventually, the battery died, and Vlad left it that way. Swithin must have found it and plugged it in for him. He picked it up and swiped through the notifications. He winced when he saw the missed calls from Ursula, her steady stream of texts tapering out into forlorn silence as the week went on. He scrolled up through the screeds of text, smiling sadly at all the bright, colorful emojis that littered their dialogue in place of punctuation. The one good thing he’d been enjoying in his life, and Vlad had killed it with neglect.It was probably for the best. Ursula and Nathan didn’t need someone like him in their lives. Not when they were so bright, with promising futures ahead of them. And they could find themselves a better sugar daddy. After all, what did they want with a sad, old married drunk like him? Other than his money, of course. Vlad couldn’t begrudge them that, though. Not when he’d enjoyed it as intensely as he had. Not when it’d made him so undeservingly happy.The email icon lit up at the bottom of his screen, and Vlad froze. It was the email he’d set up for keeping track of all of this. It was as though he’d summoned them. Vlad chewed on his bottom lip, wondering what it could be. The most likely thing was them reaching out to end things, invoking the cessation part of their contract. He’d missed their scheduled Skype date. Perhaps that was the final straw for them. He sighed. Well, he’d always known this time would come. Better to rip the band-aid off now and bleed to death than let it linger any longer. He tapped the icon, bracing himself for the wave of soul-crushing rejection that was about to roll over him. Only to find an automated email instead, the kind that showed up whenever they added something to their wish list. Curious but not yet daring to hope, Vlad clicked on it. His phone screen spun as it flipped through his open apps and pulled up the familiar sight of their wish list and the single item that’d been added.It was a mug. One of those mass-produced ones with a witty slogan splashed across the front. It read, “I survived another meeting that ought to have been a F*cking email.” However, the message attached to it made Vlad’s breath catch in his chest and his heart stutter.
No need to buy this one. Just saw it and thought of you. Take care, and let us know you’re alive. We’ll be here when you’re ready. (And if you don’t want us to be, that’s fine too. Just let us know, please.) N x.”
Vlad stared at it, telling himself it was just exhaustion making his eyes burn. When he could see the screen again and swallow around the lump in his throat, he flipped back to his inbox, tagging both Nate and Sue in a text thread.Apologies for the radio silence, he typed. No excuses. Just overwhelmed at work. He backspaced, typing out several sentence variations before settling on, just overwhelmed with life and bad at communicating. Promise I’m still alive and miss you. I hope you both are well. Thank you for the mug~ Mr. V.And then, because Nathan had done it, he added a singular kiss to the end.It didn’t solve the bleakness in his head or the shit show that surrounded him, but Vlad suddenly didn’t feel so alone anymore.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Sunday morning dawned clear and bright. It was the perfect weather for being outside and enjoying the last of the Nevrondian summer sun. So, naturally, Vlad woke up at noon and found his way into the musty gloom of the attic. He made his way toward the back of the space and began rummaging through the many boxes that lined the walls as he tried to make sense of the last few days. He’d come home in the wee, small hours of Saturday morning to find a note from Elizabeth on the fridge. Something about spending the weekend out on the yacht with the Carlisles. The relief had floored him. As far as he cared, she could stay away forever. Which brought him to his current predicament.
I don’t love her. I don’t want this anymore. What do I do, what do I do, what do I do…
The thoughts swirled around his head like murky dishwater circling a clogged drain. He’d never allowed himself to consider divorce before. It’d always felt like admitting defeat—too close to being like his father. And Vlad would do anything to avoid that. Even a miserable marriage was better than a failed one. But then what was a miserable marriage, if not a failed one? Vlad sighed and moved on to another box. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but Vlad knew he’d find it when he did.The attic had been his art studio once upon a time, back when he’d still had the time and will to paint. Vlad couldn’t remember the last time that was, but the smell of dried paint, turpentine, and charcoal still lingered in the air. Heady and thick under a layer of dust, like the memory from another life. Or one that might have been. His fingers brushed up against something heavy and solid under a layer of fabric, and Vlad instantly knew what it was. He pulled out his violin case, noting the scuffs on the carbon-fiber exterior and the dull glint of brass worn and tired with age. Much like him, Vlad thought wryly. He snapped open the clasps, half dreading what he’d find inside. And there, nestled amidst the faded velvet interior, protected from all the grime and filth of life, the rose-colored wood of his violin gleamed in the light.It felt almost too good to be true. Even his bow was still intact, and Vlad thanked his past self for having the forethought to loosen the hairs before relegating his beloved instrument to the attic, along with every other facet of his life that’d once brought him joy. Tentatively, he picked up the violin, still afraid it might disintegrate into dust. He plucked one sting, and it gave a distressed, off-key twang.But Vlad could fix that.Heedless of the surrounding dust, Vlad sat down on the floor and began playing with the tuning pegs. Hands distracted, his eyes roamed over the dimly lit interior of the attic, watching dust motes wink through the air as they caught in the rays filtering in through the skylight. He still didn’t know what had prompted him to come up here, but he suspected it had something to do with yesterday’s impromptu therapy session. He’d called the number on the card Allan gave him yesterday morning on a whim, expecting to be put through to voicemail. Instead, he’d been offered the chance to take advantage of a last-minute opening that same day. Vlad wondered if it was a coincidence or if Allan had called ahead for him. He’d spent the rest of his Saturday answering open-ended questions that only ever led to more lines of inquiry about his life. What was Vlad doing there? What was he struggling with? How was he managing his addiction? What was his marriage like? His family life? Work?Vlad answered all of it haltingly at first, but then the more he talked, the easier it became. He talked about everything and nothing. The breakdown and his and Elizabeth’s marriage. Her affairs. His father’s affairs. His mother’s sudden death. Her funeral, his first kiss—the first time he’d gotten mind-numbingly high—both of which just so happened to co-inside with the first.“So, you associate intimacy with self-destructive tendencies?” Dr. Lestrange had asked, taking this chaotic introductory appointment in her stride and spearing Vlad in place with a single sentence. It was like she’d seen to the heart of him in minutes. Vlad had never felt seen before. He wasn’t sure he liked it. But it was also… nice in an uncomfortable sort of way. He’d spent so long feeling invisible that he supposed it was only natural to feel discomfort to have someone notice him. Even if it was all the worst parts of him. When he brought up Nathan and Ursula, Vlad had expected some sort of judgment, but Dr. Lestrange’s face hadn’t even twitched.“Would you say you’re drawn to that kind of relationship dynamic?” she’d asked instead, and Vlad hadn’t understood what she meant. “You mentioned your wife earlier. You said you didn’t mind that she was seeing other people, only that she lied about it.”Which was true. Vlad had always known he wasn’t enough for anyone to love. He’d just been grateful anyone ever loved him at all. So, when Vlad had found out about Elizabeth’s affairs, it felt more like an inevitability than betrayal. He’d even told her as much, stating in one of their calmer fights that if this was what she needed to be happy, Vlad would find peace with it. More than that, Vlad would be happy for her. All he asked was that she be honest with him and tell the truth.“And what did she say to that?” Dr. Lestrange asked, her pen hovering over the notepad she’d been frantically scribbling in to keep up.Vlad had laughed and reached for the plastic water cup she’d put down on the coffee table for him and washed the bile and sorrow back down his throat. “She asked where the fun in that would be.”Back in the present, his phone chimed. Vlad set down his violin and pulled it out of his pocket. Ursula’s icon lit up his screen, and Vlad smiled to see it. She’d responded to their text thread, the one he’d started yesterday when he’d let them know he was okay. He’d expected them to go back to texting him separately, but it seemed this was their new favorite thread, not just for him but for texting each other as well. Vlad slid open his lock screen and smiled at their banter. He still felt like an intruder, like someone who’d walked in on a kiss, but he was getting better at making his presence known. Even if all he did was hit like on their replies to each other. An image popped up on his screen, and Vlad was greeted by the sight of them sitting together on a too-small couch. Or rather, a couch that was likely big enough for both of them if Ursula wasn’t squashing Nathan into the corner. She was as beautiful and direct with her gaze as ever; her brown freckled face grinned impishly out at him, her wild mane of hair tamed into a messy braid. Nathan looked resigned; his expression caught between a scowl and a smile as she included him in the picture. Both made Vlad’s heart do a funny little flip.I want this… said a small, tremulous voice in the back of his mind. And for the first time since this all started, Vlad didn’t shy away from it. He did want this. Specifically, he wanted them, but he also knew that was neither realistic nor fair. Vlad was in no state to ask anyone to love him. Not while his life was a mess of shit and shrapnel waiting to explode. But perhaps, maybe one day, he’d be in a place where he could have what they had. He hoped so. He was undoubtedly going to try.Are you two texting each other while sitting next to each other? His phone blipped twice with dual answers of agreement. Vlad rolled his eyes fondly.Ursula’s name popped up, a series of ellipses denoting that she was typing. What are you up to?Vlad hesitated, then replied: Sitting alone in my attic having an existential crisis.The silence on the other end of the line went on for so long that Vlad thought he’d miscalculated, but her reply popped up after a heart-pounding thirty seconds.
You’re really not selling the whole “totally not Batman” thing.
Vlad snorted.Nathan’s icon popped up next. We were thinking of watching a movie. Want to join us?Vlad blinked at the offer. How would that work?
Have you got your laptop?
Vlad did not, but it was time he climbed down from the attic, anyway. I can get it.
Downstairs, Nathan walked him through the screen-sharing website they sent him over Skype. “And then just click the link that pops up.”“My, this all looks very legal,” Vlad said dryly, doing as he was bid.Nathan’s laugh bounced around Vlad’s empty kitchen over the speaker. “This is when we find out you work for Viacom, or some shit, isn’t it?”Vlad shook his head and chuckled. They’d been trying to figure out where he worked for a while now. So far, his current professions included an immortal vampire who’d invested wisely and now lived off the interest (he wished); CEO of a rival tech company (that one had given him heart palpitations at how close they were); and literally Batman.“I can confirm that I do not work for that particular multinational conglomeration,” he said.“But you do work for one?” Nathan persisted.Vlad clucked his tongue and followed the directions popping up on his screen. “Oh, now that would be telling.”A muffled sound in the background broke over the speakers, and Nathan’s attention shifted. “No, not that.”“But I’m hungry,” Ursula’s sulky reply floated over the audio, her tone sending illicit little shivers down Vlad’s spine. It was the same petulant tone she used whenever she wanted something, and Vlad was horrendously weak for it. It appealed to something deep down in his core that wanted a multitude of depraved things. Things he’d only just found the courage to Google.Vlad felt sure that if you cut him down the middle, you’d find the definition of “service kink” scored across his soul and a handful of other things. Mostly, he just wanted to give Ursula whatever she wanted. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for that wheedling tone.Nathan, it seemed, was made of sterner stuff. “Well, unless you want to set the smoke alarm off again…”“Something wrong?” Vlad asked, tweaking the settings on his laptop to keep his work emails from popping up.“I was going to make pizza,” Ursula replied, still sounding huffy. Another shiver ran down Vlad’s spine. “But our oven is busted, and it sets the smoke alarm off. The landlord is supposed to be sending someone tomorrow, but that doesn’t exactly solve the issue right now.”“What about take out?” Vlad suggested, realizing belatedly that he’d also neglected to feed himself and was, now that he paid attention, fucking ravenous. “My treat.”Thirty minutes later, Vlad sat on the low couch in the deserted family room and munched his way through a slice of hot, greasy pizza. It was the kind of fair he avoided these days—ever since his doctor started using words like “cholesterol” and “men of your age.” He doubted it would make much difference in the long run, given all the other shit he’d put into his body over the years, but he still tried to limit it, anyway.“Didn’t they make a sequel to this?” he asked as the opening credits to What We Do In The Shadows rolled over his laptop screen. He winced a second later and reached for his headphones to stop the audio feedback loop over his speakers.“Sort of,” Ursula replied, mouth evidently full. “It’s a tv series now.”“I’ve heard good things,” Nathan replied, sounding like he was also talking around a mouthful of food. “We should watch it some other night.”“We should,” Vlad agreed, reaching for the sugary soda pop he’d ordered and feeling weirdly like he was on a date. ✨ “That was fun,” Ursula’s voice murmured low in Vlad’s ear, startling him out of the daze he’d slipped into as the end credits for the tv series rolled over his screen. He thought he might have fallen asleep with his eyes open for a second.“Yes,” he said, his jaw cracking around a yawn as he stretched. The display at the bottom right of his screen informed him it was well after midnight. Vlad groaned softly. He hadn’t meant to stay online much longer after the movie ended, but when they’d suggested starting on the tv series, and one episode had turned into two, he’d been hard-pressed to say no.God, he didn’t know how he would get up for work in the morning. Fuck, he was getting old.“I’m afraid it was too much late-night excitement for some of us.” Ursula giggled, drawing Vlad’s attention back to their call.“Oh?”The Skype app flickered orange, and Vlad realized she was inviting him to view their camera. His fingers hovered over the accept button, and for one brief, electrifying moment of impulse, he considered answering with his own. Self-preservation prevailed, however, and he responded with audio-only.“Nathan fell asleep,” Ursula murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips.“I can see that,” Vlad said, mirroring her low tone as he drank in the sight of them.She was stretched out on her side, evidently already in bed. There wasn’t a scrap of makeup on her face, and Vlad took a moment to bask in the unaltered glow of her soft features and the mess of curly hair striving to escape her braid. She was beautiful no matter how she looked, but this felt special. Nathan was curled around her back, the solid muscle of his arm wrapped firmly around her torso. His face was buried against her neck, obscured by her hair, but even without seeing his face, Vlad could tell he was asleep by the gentle rise and fall of his chest.Vlad’s heart gave a besotted thud in his chest.This, this, I want this, said that same little voice from before, but he couldn’t say that aloud, so instead, he said, “You two are adorable. I hope you know that.”Ursula’s eyelashes fluttered with laughter. “Thank you. So are you.”Vlad snorted. “Me? You don’t even know what I look like.”Ursula shrugged, and her nightshirt slipped from her shoulder to reveal a generous amount of golden-brown skin. She made no move to pull it back up. “There’s more than one way to be adorable.”She yawned suddenly and moved to cover her mouth with the back of her hand. Vlad felt a keen stab of guilt at keeping her awake. “I should let you go. Thank you for tonight.”“No, don’t go,” Ursula protested around another yawn, visibly forcing herself to focus on the screen. “Not yet.”“You can barely keep your eyes open,” Vlad said, amused.“Don’t need them to listen to you.” She smiled hazily at him. “I like your voice. It’s soothing.”Vlad shook his head. He’d been called many things over the years, some even complimentary, but soothing had never been one of them. Thought he was damned if he couldn’t keep a ridiculous smile from splitting his face. “What about Nathan?” he countered. “Won’t talking wake him up?”“Nah.” Ursula stifled another yawn, and Vlad found it to be catching. He yawned and shook his head. If he wanted to make it to bed, Vlad would have to move now or risk falling asleep right here on the couch. And he’d had enough of sleeping on couches of late. He rolled up onto his feet, taking his laptop with him.”“Are you sure?”“He’ll be fine,” Ursula assured him. “Once he takes his hearing aids out, he’s dead to the world.”Vlad paused at the foot of the stairs. Nathan wore hearing aids? How had he missed a thing like that? Surely, it was important to know if someone was hard of hearing. Had they told him, and he’d missed it? Or was it none of his business? He certainly hadn’t noticed the younger man wearing them, though, in fairness, Vlad hadn’t spent much time looking at his ears. Clearly, he needed to pay better attention.He resumed his trek up the stairs and bumped his bedroom door open with his hip. The room beyond was cast in shadow, illuminated by the silver light of the full moon shining in through his window. Vlad set his laptop down on his nightstand and said, “You wait there.” He smiled fondly, recalling how Ursula had propped him up on the end of their bed the first night they’d talked over video. It felt like a lifetime ago. Vlad threw his headset down on the bed and headed toward the ensuite bathroom, discarding clothes as he went. He hurried through his nighttime routine in record-breaking time, pausing only briefly to put on a clean pair of sweatpants before all but diving across the bed to reclaim his laptop, slotting the earpiece of his headset back into place. “Back.”“Welcome back,” Ursula replied, her words slurring sleepily together. “Missed you.”“I wasn’t aware I was gone that long,” Vlad replied, crawling under the covers and dragging his laptop with him.Ursula smiled; her eyes were only half-open. “Thought you were never coming back.”It was said teasingly, but there was a ragged note of uncertain truth behind it, and Vlad suspected they were no longer talking about the time it’d taken him to brush his teeth.“I’m not going anywhere,” he said. It was a lie, a pretty, pretty lie. But Vlad would live it for as long as they’d allow him to. “Not when I have crossed oceans of time to find you.”Ursula frowned, mumbling. “S’wrong vampire movie.”“On the contrary, Dracula is never the wrong vampire movie.”She scrunched her nose up at him. Vlad wanted to kiss it. “Dork.”“I thought I was adorable,” he said.“Both. You’re… adorkable.” Vlad huffed softly and allowed the comfortable silence to consume them. He was on the verge of drifting off himself when Ursula roused herself once more. “Y’know, I’ve never actually read that.”“Read what?”“Dracula. The book.”Vlad stared at the screen, uncomprehending how such a thing was possible. “I’m sorry,” he said after a pause, “but that’s just not acceptable.” He reached for his phone and flipped to the e-reader app. It took him a moment to find what he was looking for, but when he did, the words came back to him like an old friend.“What are you doing?” Ursula asked, still fighting sleep every inch of the way.“Well, seen as how someone refuses to sleep, and I have such a soothing voice.” Vlad cleared his throat and began to read. “Chapter One, the journal of Jonathan Harker. May 3rd, Bistritz. Left Munich at 8:35 PM on May 1st, arriving at Vienna early next morning; should have arrived at 6:46, but the train was an hour late. Buda-Pesth seems a wonderful place…”Ursula was asleep before they even reached the castle.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“Oh. You came back.”Vlad raised an eyebrow at Dr. Lestrange’s greeting. “Was I not supposed to?”The tiny doctor beamed up at him, her blue eyes kind behind her glasses. “You absolutely were. I’m just glad. You seemed like a flight risk when you left last week. You’re here now, though; that’s all that matters.”Vlad’s other eyebrow arched to join the first. “Thank you, I think?”She gestured him into her office with a sweep of her arm, though Vlad thought calling it an ‘office’ was perhaps being overly charitable. He’d endured his fair share of mandated counseling sessions throughout his teens. Vlad had vague memories of being walked down beige corridors with scuffed beige floor tiles that squeaked beneath his boots. Mostly, he just remembered never wanting to go back. The AA meetings weren’t much better: held in musty church basements he’d never frequent otherwise. Dr. Lestrange’s office, however, was… different. He’d barely taken it in last time, too focused on keeping the stopper of emotion in his chest from becoming disastrously uncorked. Now that he was calmer and less on the verge of a total nervous collapse, he could admire the décor, which he could only generously define as eclectic. The building itself was an old 19th century home with a wrap-around porch and heavy shuttered windows that caught the best of the afternoon sun. Inside, what had once likely been the guest parlor had been turned into a cozy waiting room, where sun catchers and stained-glass windows cast soothing colors across the floor and walls. Beyond that, behind a set of what looked to be original parlor doors, lay Dr. Lestrange’s office. If you could call it that. Plants hung from every conceivable inch of the ceiling, while a staggering number of books lined the walls from ceiling to floor. More crystals lined the walls, and there were tiny clusters of geodes everywhere, winking against the chalk black walls like self-contained galaxies. It felt more like the back parlor of an eccentric plant witch than a psychiatrist’s office, and turning to look at the good doctor as she followed him in, Vlad thought the descriptor might fit well. It’d been decades since he’d been part of the scene, but Vlad got the distinct impression he was in the presence of a fellow goth kid.He wondered if Allan had done that on purpose.She gestured toward the plush green velvet couch that dominated the center of the room. “Please, have a seat.”He stepped around the coffee table, noting that she’d already put a glass of water out for him. It was a kind gesture; he thought. Vlad unbuttoned the front of his suit jacket and sat down on the couch. Dr. Lestrange settled across from him in a dark leather chair, a pen and notepad already readied in her lap. “Now,” she said, giving him a cheerful smile. “First things first. How are you doing after last week?”Vlad nodded, clasping and unclasping his hands in front of him. It was a reflexive, nervous gesture. His father hated it. “Fine, I think.”“That’s good. Fine is good. Are there any new incidents we need to discuss?”Vlad arched an eyebrow at her. “Is that a roundabout way of asking if I’m still sober?”The doctor shrugged, her smile never wavering. “I was just asking in general, but sure, if you want to cut to the chase. Are you?”“Yes.”“Any more encounters with alcohol that might be triggering?”“No.”“What about Elizabeth?”Vlad pursed his lips together and shook his head. He’d been dreading her return home on Monday. But it was Wednesday now, and the most he’d heard from her was the sound of the garage door opening at odd hours of the night and the lingering scent of her perfume in the hallway. It was like living with a ghost.“Good. So, what would you like to talk about first?” Dr. Lestrange asked, her pen already poised and ready to write.Vlad reached for the cup of water on the table. He took a steadying breath, then said, “I think… I think I want to leave my wife.”Dr. Lestrange started to scribble. ✨ One hour, several cups of water, and a desperate need for a cigarette later, Vlad felt… Well, he felt like he wanted a cigarette. But he was also plagued by the nagging sensation that he was lying. He wasn’t. Vlad was 99% sure he wasn’t lying. But that didn’t make the feeling go away.“I don’t know. Maybe I’m exaggerating things,” he said, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. His suit jacket had been abandoned in favor of comfort, as had his tie. He’d even undone the top button of his collar, hoping it would help him breathe easier, though it hadn’t helped much. Vlad still felt like he was suffocating.Across from him, Dr. Lestrange nodded. “That’s not uncommon at first. Are you familiar with the term ‘gaslighting’ at all?”Vlad shook his head. “No.”Dr. Lestrange sat up straighter and tucked her feet beneath her. “It means you’ve been conditioned to doubt yourself. It’s not uncommon in… the type of relationship dynamic you describe.” She’d stopped saying the word ‘abuse’ earlier in the session, presumably because Vlad kept flinching. “Especially with emotionally manipulative partners.” She paused, her eyes rolling down to her notepad. “Or parental figures.”Vlad frowned, trying to understand. “So, what? Up is down, and down is up?”“In the simplest of terms, yes. Another example would be denying a factual truth, rewriting events to make you doubt your perspective, or even turning you into a liar. It’s a way of invalidating your thoughts and feelings while also making you doubt the rationality of what you’re experiencing in favor of their narrative.”Vlad swallowed, a familiar hollow pit opening up in his already churning stomach. “Like you’re imagining things?” he asked.“Precisely or accuse you of being something you’re not.”Like high, Vlad thought, recalling all the times he’d been stone-cold sober, and his father accused him of being otherwise. Elizabeth, too, now that he thought about it. She’d won several arguments by accusing him of drinking, rendering anything he said invalid. Sobriety had always seemed so pointless after arguments like that…He zoned back into what Dr. Lestrange was saying. “—or implying that you’re rash and impulsive when you’re not.”“But what if you are rash and impulsive?” Vlad asked, cocking his head to the side. “I do things without thinking all the time.”“Do you?” Dr. Lestrange made another note on her pad. “Or do you overthink to such a point you become overwhelmed and do something drastic to escape the feeling of being trapped?”Vlad opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again. “I don’t—that’s not—what?”Dr. Lestrange gave him an unreadable look. “You’ve mentioned several times that you do things impulsively on a whim. And while I don’t doubt that you have acted impulsively in the past… a lot of the instances you’ve described involve being put in impossible situations where you’re being forced to pick between a rock and a hard place with no means of winning.”Vlad opened his mouth again. “That… that doesn’t seem right.”“No?”“No.”“Why not?” she asked.“Because…” Vlad gestured emptily. “Because I don’t… I don’t know. It just doesn’t.”“Okay, different tactic. Describe a scenario where you’ve done something rash and impulsive.”Vlad stared at her, wondering for all her notes if she’d actually heard a single thing he’d said. “I walked in here an hour ago and told you I want to end my almost twenty-year marriage over a fight.”“Just one fight?” Dr. Lestrange asked.“I… No. But that’s… Okay, lots of fights.”“How many?”Vlad ground his teeth together. He didn’t even know where to begin tallying something like that. “I don’t know. Too many to count.”“And how many of those fights have revolved around Elizabeth putting your sobriety at risk?”Vlad’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t… I don’t know if that’s fair. She’s not responsible for my choices.”“No,” Dr. Lestrange agreed, “that’s true. But she doesn’t seem to support or respect your condition either. In fact, from what you’ve described, I’d say she does the opposite.”Condition, Vlad thought. Why did she phrase it like that? It wasn’t Elizabeth’s fault he was weak. He frowned, reaching for something solid to grasp onto. “Sorry, aren’t you supposed to recommend marriage counseling first or something? Get both sides of the story?”“I could refer you to someone else if you’d like.” Dr. Lestrange nodded, “But that’s not what I specialize in. My primary concern is your well-being and whether you’re at risk. And I think we both know Allan didn’t give you my number simply because of your history with addiction.”Vlad knew this. Deep down, some visceral part of him knew what she was saying was true. It all resonated too much, just like when he’d read that damn book Allan gave him, and he’d felt both like someone had simultaneously pulled the rug out from under his feet while handing him a lifeline. He knew why he was here: his relationship with Elizabeth was toxic. Riya had been telling him that for years. But that still didn’t make talking about it like this any easier. Vlad felt like he was outside of himself again, the world around him melting like a Dalí painting.He cleared his throat and tried to bring things back into focus. “You make it sound like Elizabeth is dangerous.”Dr. Lestrange arched an eyebrow at him. “No? All right, let’s try thinking of it this way. If someone told you they were deathly allergic to peanuts and would die around them. Would you insist on taking them on a tour of a peanut shelling factor, eat in front of them, mock them for not eating and then pressure them to try one just to prove it wouldn’t kill them?”“No, of course not.”“So, how is what Elizabeth is doing to you any different?”Vlad gave an incredulous laugh. “That’s a ridiculous comparison.”“Why?”“Because…” He gestured expressively with both hands, trying to encapsulate how ludicrous this was. “Because that person has a medical condition. Doing that to them would be monstrous!”“Are you saying you don’t?”Vlad faltered under Dr. Lestrange’s harrowingly kind gaze. He wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Eventually, he said, “I had choices.”She nodded. “And what choices did you think you had when you started experimenting with drugs and alcohol?”“I don’t know.” Vlad laughed again. It was a humorless sound. “I was fourteen. I probably thought the world was ending.”“Was it?”Vlad’s voice cracked apart in his throat, breaking under the sudden swell of unexpected emotion this line of questioning wrought. It’d certainly felt like the world was ending at the time. Not the entire world, just his own small corner of it. The bedrock of his childhood crumbling beneath the earth-shattering grief of his mother’s death. Sure, it’d been a miserable bedrock, but even misery could feel like home if it was stable enough. His father had gotten remarried six months later. One of the clerical girls from work. Vlad hadn’t taken it exceptionally well. He’d gotten high at the wedding reception, had his first gay kiss, and lost his virginity in a backroom closet before they’d even cut the cake. Vlad couldn’t remember the older boy’s name, just that he’d been desperate to feel something. Anything besides the desperate maw of misery clawing apart his insides. Even just for a moment.It was a holding pattern that’d persisted for years. Crashing from one ill-advised tryst to the next. Boys at school, the girls in the neighborhood. Anyone that deigned to pay him the slightest bit of kind attention. And then he’d met Elizabeth in college, and that was the end of that. Vlad frowned, trying to figure out what’d been different.It certainly hadn’t been a lack of drugs, sex, or alcohol.“So, what was different?” Dr. Lestrange persisted when Vlad’s thoughts stalled.“She was… respectable about it.” Vlad laughed numbly, realizing how absurd that sounded. “She kept it hidden and didn’t let it interfere with her plans.”“And what plans were those?”Vlad gestured emptily at himself. “Marriage. Money. Big house. Nice car. The usual.”“No children?”Vlad laughed again. “No. God, no. She always said kids ruined your life.”“And what about you?”Vlad hesitated. “I… I didn’t want to fuck them up.” He swallowed thickly. No, he couldn’t risk a thing like that. Not when everyone told him he was so much like his mother. He couldn’t do that to a child. He couldn’t do what’d been done to him. He searched around for something else to say. “My father liked her. Elizabeth, I mean. He’d never liked anyone I brought home before…”“So, that made Elizabeth your escape into normalcy and approval?” Dr. Lestrange asked, following this new direction in the conversation with all the gentility of a heat-seeking missile.Vlad winced. “I guess so…”“And all those other plans Elizabeth had—did you want those things too?”Vlad clasped his hands together, twisting his wedding band around his finger. “I wanted the world to slow down and stop spinning, so yes.”“Are those the same things?”Vlad blinked. “You said it yourself; it’s normalcy.”“It’s normal for some people,” she agreed, “but what is normal to the spider is—”“—chaos to the fly,” Vlad finished for her, shaking his head. “I knew you were an Addams fan.”Dr. Lestrange smiled, that calm, curious smile of hers. “What can I say? I like depictions of healthy, happy relationships. Whatever form they take. Now, you mentioned something about wanting the world to slow down. Let’s talk about that…” ✨ Another hour later, Vlad was finally set free, though not before Dr. Lestrange gave him homework. A single, cryptic instruction to do something nice for himself. Whatever the Hell that meant.He pottered around the empty house back at home before making his way outside. Cigarette dangling from his lip, Vlad sat down on the deck, rolled the cuffs of his sweatpants up, and dipped his feet into the cool, illuminated water of the pool. It was hardly the height of luxury, but it was calm and peaceful, and Vlad allowed the sounds of the summer night to wash over him. He stayed out there long enough for the automatic porch lights to come on, a distinct autumnal chill entering the air and making him shiver under the thin fabric of his t-shirt. He was about to get up and head inside when his phone vibrated against his leg, diverting his attention. The light from the screen was blinding after so long sitting in the dark, but it was made all the brighter by the sight of Ursula’s face filling his screen, her beautiful features affecting an exaggerated pout. The caption underneath read: “storytime?” and Vlad huffed with laughter. He couldn’t have anticipated the monster he’d been about to unleash by reading her to sleep on Sunday, but it was fast becoming a nightly bedtime ritual.I want this; I want this; I want this. Vlad’s heart squeezed, thudding out the ache of longing in his chest like a second heartbeat.Vlad wasn’t good enough for them; he knew that. He also knew that the second they learned about how fucked up his life was, this would all come crashing down. But that didn’t stop the yearning. Nor did it curb the insane, fragile hope that maybe, if he got free of Elizabeth and got better, he could deserve their affection one day.It was a pretty dream, and selfishly, Vlad wasn’t ready to give it up.Pushing aside his more maudlin thoughts, Vlad assumed the role they’d given him. Have you been good? He texted back, a surge of heat spiking in the pit of his stomach. He still felt out of his depth with all this, like he was treading unchartered waters. But it was becoming easier to enjoy it, the uncertainly thrilling instead of terrifying.Vlad watched in amusement as Ursula’s icon flickered in and out of existence on his screen, denoting that she was backspacing more than usual. Eventually, she replied, Define “ “ “good” ” ”…Vlad chuckled. That’s a no, then.Not that it mattered. Vlad was still going to give Ursula precisely what she wanted. He enjoyed giving in to her whims far too much. “Self-care,” he muttered to himself, wondering if this counted as doing something nice for himself. Vlad hauled himself up and headed inside. If he was going to read to them, he should start getting ready for bed.Ursula sent him another imploring picture with Nathan in the background. The younger man was smiling in that slightly frowny way he got whenever Ursula shoved an unexpected camera in his face. He didn’t look annoyed, just gently exasperated. It was ridiculously endearing.Nathan’s been good. Ursula’s subsequent text appeared underneath.I don’t doubt it, Vlad replied, but Nathan’s not the one asking me to read to him. Although God knew, Vlad wished he would.Predictably, a reply from Nathan popped up in the thread. This is totally Nathan and not Ursula using his phone, asking you to come and read to us.Pleeeeeeeease, Ursula chimed in almost immediately underneath. It’s been a whole-ass day, and I need to know what happens to the cowboy.Vlad slid open the screen door and dried his feet off. You know, he texted back when he picked up his phone again. If you had a copy of the book, you could read it yourself and find out.The string of devastated, pleading-eyed emojis that ensued was almost more than Vlad could handle. But I don’t *want* a random copy of the book, Ursula replied. I want *your* version of the book.Vlad stopped dead in his tracks, an idea forming in his head. He knew what she meant. Ursula wanted him to keep reading to her. She wanted his inflections and how he did the voices for her entertainment. But that didn’t mean the idea wasn’t entirely without merit.Give me a few minutes to find something, he replied, then shoved his phone into his back pocket and made a beeline for the attic.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
It was late afternoon the following day when Ursula’s phone buzzed. She strained pitifully toward the pile of clothes where she’d left it. “So close, yet so far…”Sat on the stage, scrolling through their own phone, Devon rolled their eyes. “You could get down from the hoop, you know.”“I could,” Ursula agreed, still hanging upside down by her legs and wiggling her fingers imploringly. “Or some kind soul could hand it to me.”Devon rolled their eyes again. “Here, catch.”Ursula caught the phone before it could connect with her face and swung herself upright in one fluid motion. She braced herself on the inside of the hoop with her thighs and made a soft, joyful sound when she saw who had texted her.“Nathan?” Devon guessed.“Nope.” Ursula flipped open the camera and took a disheveled selfie to go along with her reply. Her hair was falling out of its topknot, and she was a sweaty, smudged mess, but she didn’t worry about it. Mister V never seemed to notice if she was pristine or in her sweats; he was always appreciatively adoring. He was odd, like that.At least odd for a sugar daddy, in Ursula’s experience.“Oh, him,” Devon muttered sourly. Ursula frowned at their tone.“Yes, him,” she replied, her smile reappearing at Mister V’s quick response, accompanied by a single heart emoji.“So, he finally showed up again?”“He was busy,” Ursula replied, realizing her tone was defensive. “He had stuff going on.”“Yeah, I’m sure having a wife and kids on the side really takes time out of his day.”Ursula looked down at her friend, glowering. Devon was a good friend most of the time, but sometimes they could be unnecessarily judgmental. Like when they’d first found out Ursula did casual cam sex work on the side. It’d been quite the hypocritical reaction for someone who worked stage performances on weekends at a queer-centric kink club. Fortunately, Devon had realized what a shitty knee-jerk response that was and had come around. The same could not be said for their reaction to hearing about Mister V.“You don’t know that about him,” she said.“No, and neither do you,” Devon countered, being annoyingly reasonable.Ursula opened her mouth, then closed it again. There wasn’t much she could say to dispute that because, technically, it was true. Ursula didn’t know much about Mister V except what he’d told them, and he hadn’t told them much. Ursula suspected things; of course, she did. She’d been sugaring long enough to spot when people were hiding things from her. But there was just something about Mister V that made her want to trust him. To hope that he’d tell them things in his own time if she just waited.But she also couldn’t blame Devon for being skeptical.She knew most of the men (and the odd, occasional woman) she encountered while sugaring were not relationship material. Some were merely lonely with money to burn, while others were serial adulterers or divorcees looking for an outlet and a means to feel powerful. Some were even couples, which Ursula was fine with, too. Provided they didn’t turn out to be unicorn hunters looking for something more: a third wheel to pin the wobbly stability of their marriage onto and blame when it all fell apart. Those were bad and messy. But such were the trials of being queer, polyamorous, and kinky. Sometimes you just had to hope that everyone else was being as open and honest as you were.Doing it online was more straightforward, and she preferred it that way. It was easier to avoid personal drama if you didn’t allow things to get personal. Which was precisely what she and Nathan had intended when she’d talked him into giving online sugaring a chance. After all, they were already putting things up online for free to satisfy their exhibitionism kink. Why not get paid for it and cover some bills, too? It’d been fine for a while. They got the occasional big tipper, but nothing consistent or sustainable. And then Mister V fell into their world, with his shy, overwhelming kindness and steadfast refusal to take anything from them that they didn’t offer up first. It was perplexing and unfamiliar territory for Ursula.He wanted things; Ursula could feel it. She caught glimpses of it simmering beneath the sparkling, witty banter that passed for conversation between them. Heard the dangerous glint of hunger in his voice when Ursula pushed his buttons just right. It never lasted, however, and no sooner had she drawn him out of his shell, Mister V would politely retreat, his mannerism as stiff and formal as an Austenian gentleman. Or a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. She supposed it could be inexperience, though she didn’t think that was all of it. Nathan kept suggesting he was only in it to burn money, but that didn’t feel right either. Ursula had done financial domination before, and the vibe was a whole other kettle of expensive fish, and Mister V didn’t seem the type. Truthfully, Ursula hadn’t figured out what type Mister V was. Likely because Mister V was still figuring it out for himself as well. She was proud of the progress they’d made so far. He’d really grown into his role as ‘Sir’ and was a good Sugar Daddy, even if he wasn’t comfortable with that word. Overall, things between them were great. At least they had been until he’d vanished.That’d been a bad week.It’d also shattered the careful illusion that despite how pleasant things were between them, it was not impersonal. Ursula had been forced to admit this wasn’t just about the gifts, money, or even the simple thrill of being adored. Not anymore. There was just something about him that pushed all her buttons in the right way. In fact, she hadn’t felt this drawn to someone since —“Nathan!” Ursula beamed as her lover pushed through the doors of the club. He was dressed in a pair of dark sweatpants, and a black t-shirt with the gym logo stretched across his broad chest. Usually, he changed out of that as soon as he got home, so he must have gotten off work and come straight here. “What are you doing here?”Nathan weaved his way through the chairs the staff were setting up for tomorrow night’s show. He dropped his kitbag down onto one of them and came to join them at the foot of the stage. “Water pipe burst at work, so we got out early. Devon.” He greeted their friend with a curt nod and turned back to face her. “I thought I’d come walk you home. Are you almost done?”“Yep!”“Really?” He cocked his head to the side and flashed a boyish grin up at her. “Because it looks to me like you’re just hanging around.”Ursula rolled her eyes at the awful dad-level joke and flipped herself down through the hoop to land lightly on her feet. “I’m done. I was just texting Mister V.”“Same,” Nathan replied, and Ursula noted his phone was in hand. “Apparently, there’s a package waiting for us at home.”“A package?” Ursula squinted at her phone. Mister V hadn’t said anything to her about a package. She wondered why. “Did he say what it was?”“Nope.”“All right, well, just let me get down, and we can—Nathan!” she squealed in protest, laughing as he scooped her off the stage with a muscular arm under her thighs, shouldering her weight with ease as he spun her around. Sometimes, he just wanted to show off how strong he was. Ursula didn’t mind. She knew how arduous his physical rehab had been.“You’re an absolute unit,” she informed him as he set her on her feet.“You say the sweetest things,” he murmured, grinning down at her and leaning in to place a kiss on her upturned mouth.“Ugh, can you two flirt somewhere else?” Devon grumbled, and Ursula pulled back, hurrying to bend over and stuff her clothes into her backpack. She couldn’t be bothered to change out of her dance gear, not when her raincoat would cover everything.The world outside the sparkling clubhouse was gray and overcast, cold for this time of year but not unpleasant. However, a little sunshine might’ve been nice to help Ursula’s mood.“Penny for them?” Nathan asked after a while, and Ursula realized they’d walked most of the way home hand-in-hand in silence.“I’m not sure my thoughts are worth a penny,” Ursula said, skipping over a puddle and swinging Nathan’s arm out wide as he stepped around it.“All right, half a pack of gummy bears and a licorice stick.”Ursula wrinkled her nose at him. “Just how much guilt candy did you buy last week?”“A lot,” Nathan said emphatically. Ursula shook her head at him.After walking another block in silence, Ursula said, “Devon doesn’t like Mister V.”Nathan absorbed this in silence. After a while, he said, “Devon doesn’t know him.”“Neither do we,” Ursula countered.“We know his credit card number,” Nathan said. “That’s more than I’ve known about some people I’ve had long-term relationships with.”Ursula laughed, but her heart wasn’t in it. “Yeah.”Nathan was silent for several moments, his hand swinging hers back and forth as they waited for the crosswalk to change. “I know it’s already too late, but I thought we agreed this whole sugaring thing wouldn’t get complicated?”Ursula bit her lip. They had agreed to that. They’d decided they weren’t in a place for anything more complicated than indulging some of their kinks and making a little extra cash on the side. But somewhere along the way, Ursula had caught feelings, and now she was drowning in the enormity of them.“Hey, it’s okay.” Nathan squeezed her hand.“Is it?” she asked, her laughter tinged with despair. “Because it doesn’t feel okay.”“Well, we’ll just have to make it okay,” he said. He was about to say more when his hand tugged Ursula back from the side of the road, curving his arm around her protectively, when a flashy sports car failed to heed the lights and veered around the corner, splashing through a puddle. “Asshole.”“And how do we do that?” Ursula asked, shaking out her sleeve where the water had splashed up and caught her. The car had been so close that she’d felt the wind whistle past her fingers.“I don’t know,” Nathan shrugged, still sounding angry at the reckless driver. “You’re the one always going on about communication. Maybe we should just talk to him?”“And what if he is married?” she asked, looking up at him. “What then?”Nathan turned sky-blue eyes down to her. “If you’re asking me if I mind him having a partner? No, of course not. It would’ve been nice to know, but it’s not a deal-breaker. If you’re asking me if we’re being used to cheat, that’s different. But…”“But?”Nathan shrugged. “None of this is personal, right? It’d be supremely shitty of him, but it’s not like we’re in a relationship with him. Are we?”Ursula didn’t know how to answer that. Instead, she asked, “Would you want to keep talking to him?”Nathan shrugged. “I dunno. Probably not.” He was trying to sound nonchalant, but Ursula heard the same flicker of emotion in his voice that was curdling in her stomach.Complicated indeed.She sighed. “I’m sorry. I’ve made this so much more difficult than it was supposed to be.”“Nah.” Nathan gave her hand another squeeze. “I mean, also, yeah, but you didn’t make me have feelings for him. He did that by being himself, whether he meant to or not.”“Do you think he feels the same way?” Ursula asked. It was painful how hopeful she sounded.“I dunno,” Nathan said again. He reached up to scratch behind his ear, adjusting his hearing aid while he was at it. “Maybe? He seems to like us. You more than me. But that’s because you’ve been talking to him longer.”“Yeah,” Ursula agreed softly, remembering the gentle sound of Mister V’s voice lulling her to sleep. She’d demanded he read to her again multiple times over this last week, and he’d indulged her every time, even though he surely had work in the mornings and kept a much different schedule than they did.It felt… special.Usually, this sort of thing was the other way around.They reached the steps of their apartment building, and Ursula slipped the fob key from her pocket. The door buzzed loudly as it opened, and they pushed their way inside. The hallway was slick with water, but thankfully, someone had taken the time to place any waiting packages atop the mailboxes. Ursula strained up on tiptoe, hopping up and down to see what was there while Nathan casually riffled through them at eye level.“Hmm, nope. I do not see any Amazon boxes. Oh.”“What, what is it?”“It’s not from Amazon.”He lowered the box to her height, and Ursula peered at it. Not only was it not from Amazon, but the label was handwritten. She tilted her head back, and they shared a look before promptly running for the stairs.“I wonder what it is?” Ursula wondered aloud, resisting the urge to shake it.“It feels heavy,” Nathan said, eventually getting his key into the janky lock and opening the door.It scraped along the floor, driving an even deeper gouge into the floor. Just another thing the landlord kept promising to fix. Inside, they stripped out of their wet coats, and Nathan hustled to hang them up in the shower so they wouldn’t have to mop the floor later. He emerged carrying Ursula’s fluffy bathrobe, still warm from hanging over the apartment’s one working radiator. Ursula snuggled into it and made herself cozy on the couch. Only then did she pick up the package again.“Do you want to open it?” she offered, and Nathan gave her a wry look.“Not as much as you. Go on before the suspense kills us.”Ursula pulled a sharp butterfly knife from the pocket of her bathrobe (hey, you never knew when you might need one) and neatly sliced the packaging tape open. Inside, a single rectangular object was evident. It was wrapped in black paper, with a card held in place with a glittering black ribbon. The card was handwritten, just like the address; their names scrawled in neat, fluid cursive. She opened it carefully, opening the card without seeing the design on the front.
To the light of lights.
To remedy the absence in your collection.
-V x.
Ursula stared at it. She mostly stared at the singular kiss at the bottom, brushing her thumb over it. She handed it over to Nathan.“To the light of lights,” he read. “What does that mean?”“I don’t know,” Ursula said and turned her attention to the wrapped present. She slid the ribbon free, stuffed it into her pocket to add to her stash for later, and pulled back the black crepe paper to reveal…“Dracula,” she said, holding the book up to the light. It was a heavy, beautiful book, the kind of limited-edition Barnes and Noble printed every few years to look like the old, leather-bound, gilded tomes of yore. Rather than being shiny and new, however, this one was old. The spine cracked with signs of well-loved use. Some pages were even dogeared. The gilded font across the front finally caught her attention, the floral scrawl denoting that it was indeed a special edition print commemorating the 100th anniversary of publication.In 1997.Ursula felt the moment Nathan realized it, too, his breathing stilling at her back as he leaned over the back of the couch to get a better look. “You don’t think…”Ursula let it fall open on her lap, and the pages settled quickly, as though the book had been held open at this particular page many times over the years. A note had been scribbled in the margins, and the text underlined. Ursula read the passage first.“There are darknesses in life, and there are lights. You are one of the lights.”Her eyes skipped to the handwritten note in the margins: three simple words and an initial scrawled in the same handwriting as the card; the ink faded and smudged with age, as though it’d been written a long time ago.
Find the light- V.
Ursula let out the breath she’d been holding, unsure whether she wanted to laugh or cry and settling for both.He’d given them his favorite book.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Vlad sat at his desk, trying and failing to comprehend the numbers in front of him. Outside, a steady drizzle of rain prepared to turn into a downpour. It ought to have been soothing, the patter of rain against the confines of his glass cage, but right now, it was just another distraction. Granted, not as big a distraction as the silent phone resting beside his keyboard.It’d been almost an hour since he’d texted Nathan to tell him a package was waiting for him and Ursula. And yet another hour since the courier had notified him it’d been safely delivered. Vlad didn’t know how long either of their commutes were, but he felt confident the suspense of waiting for their reaction was going to kill him. If it hadn’t already. Perhaps he was already dead, and this was his purgatory. Vlad glanced around the bleak, minimalist furnishings of his office and shuddered.God, what an awful thought.He’d just managed to focus on a report in front of him when his phone vibrated—Vlad dove for it, acutely aware of his heart thudding in his throat.Thank you for the book!!! It’s incredible!!! The text flashed over his screen, and Vlad let out an explosive breath.He’d doubted the gesture since the courier took the book away, worried he’d overstepped and done something irrevocably weird. It was a relief to know he hadn’t. You are very welcome. He texted back. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have.An image of Ursula appeared in the thread sent from Nathan’s phone. She was curled up on a sagging couch, the open book in her hands. It made his heart do a backflip in his chest to see her holding his battered old copy of Dracula.Somehow, it made everything between them seem so much more real.It’s too special. Ursula’s reply flashed up. Thank you.Vlad typed back: Consider it a part of a much larger apology owed for my vanishing act.Ursula’s following few texts appeared in rapid-fire, riddled with typos from haste. You don’t have to keep apologize!! And you shouldn’t have sent us this. It’s special to you!!That is precisely why I sent it. I know it is in safe hands. However, if you don’t want it, I’ll gladly take it back… Vlad added a winking smiley face to show that he was kidding, relieved enough to feel like he could joke.He was rewarded with another picture from Nathan, this time of Ursula clutching the book close to her chest, eyes narrowed. If you want it back, you’ll have to come claim it, lol.Vlad’s fingers tapped out a response before his brain filtered it. Maybe I will.It wasn’t until over an hour later when he was getting into the parking lot elevator to head home, that he realized what he’d said, and his soul left his body. * “Oh, you’re home.”Vlad froze where he sat at the kitchen counter and looked up to find Elizabeth standing in the kitchen doorway. He’d been so absorbed in his phone that he hadn’t heard her car enter the garage. His heartbeat picked up and he swallowed. He should have known her absence was too good to last.Vlad had expected her to be furious the next time he saw her, but she didn’t look angry. If anything, she looked surprised to see him. He felt like an intruder under her gaze. As though he didn’t belong in his own home. Which was rich. Normally he was the one left here on his own. It was her that was bucking their dysfunctional routine by being home. “Should I not be?” he asked.Elizabeth set her purse and keys down on the counter beside him, brushing against him. Vlad recoiled, and Elizabeth froze, then carried on as though she hadn't noticed. “Of course,” she said, circling behind him to the refrigerator and retrieving a bottle of sparkling mineral water. It hissed as she cracked the seal, and Vlad was reminded of a fuse being lit. “I’m just surprised to see you. You’ve been so busy at work; I was starting to think you’d moved out.” Thought about it, Vlad thought bitterly, glancing down at his phone as it continued to vibrate non-stop in his hand. After several weeks of radio silence, he’d finally replied to Riya, and she’d been blowing up his inbox ever since. Meanwhile, in another thread, Ursula wanted to know if he had Netflix and if he’d like to watch something with them this weekend. Vlad replied to both, tapping out more words of apology to one and agreement to the other.Elizabeth positioned herself directly in front of him, the marble counter between them. When he didn't respond, she cleared her throat. “I said, I was starting to think—”“I heard you,” Vlad replied, not looking up from his phone.“Well…” Elizabeth trailed off, a hesitant quaver in her voice. She didn’t know what to do with him, Vlad realized. Whenever she'd vanished for extended periods of time before, her return was usually met with either anger or contrite fawning. She didn’t know what to do with his indifference. She rallied with a visible shake, a rigid smile affixing itself to her face. “No matter, you’re here now. That’s the main thing. Now that you’re here, I’ve um, been wanting to talk to you. I tried your phone and the office.” She glanced at the vibrating phone in his hand. “But Swithin said you were too busy to take my calls…”Vlad felt his heart leap into his throat. Panic was a conditioned response to being told someone wanted to talk to him. It never ended well. He set his phone down and looked up. “What about?”“Why, about your party, silly,” Elizabeth cooed, as though that was the only thing they needed to talk about. “I’ve been so busy; I’ve only got a month left to plan it. Now, I know you told Margarete you didn’t want anything, but I’ve been shopping around, and I think I’ve found the perfect venue—”Vlad cut her off. “No.”Elizabeth blinked, not used to being interrupted. “What?”“I said no,” Vlad repeated firmly, willing himself to look her in the eye.Elizabeth met his gaze, her smile wavering. She rallied again, doubling down on the saccharine act with a bubbling laugh. It sounded shrill and uneasy. “You really are going to be stubborn about this, aren’t you? Fine,” she held her hands up, “no fancy venue. We’ll stock up the pool bar and have some friends over. Now, about the cake—”Vlad felt a muscle in his jaw twitch. “What part of the word ‘no’ are you failing to understand?”“Vlad—” Elizabeth protested, but Vlad cut her off again.“Read my lips, Elizabeth. I do not want a party. No venues. No people. No cake. No drinks. Nothing.”“But you have to do something,” Elizabeth spluttered. “People are expecting it!”“I don’t care. And frankly, I can think of nothing I want to do less than spend time with any of the people we have the misfortune in common to call friends. So please, drop it.”Vlad swiped his phone up again, needing to do something with his hands. He felt weirdly calm. Like he was outside his skin, looking in on himself. He couldn’t comprehend any of the words scrolling across the screen in front of him, but there was a comfort in knowing they’d be there waiting for him later.Elizabeth regarded him in stony silence, pursing her lips together. After a pause, she rocked back on her heels and braced her arms against the counter, like a fighter stretching out before stepping into the ring. When she looked up again, the sickly sweet demeanor was gone, replaced by tightly controlled boiling fury. Vlad could feel it rolling off her in waves. “Look,” she began, “if this is about the other night at the club…” Vlad scoffed and gave her an incredulous look. “It was one time!” Elizabeth threw her arms up.Vlad ignored her raised voice and maintained his cool stare. “No, Elizabeth. It’s not. It’s never just ‘one time' with you.”“What’s that supposed to mean?” she demanded.“I think you know damn well what it means,” Vlad fired back, his gaze darting pointedly to her neck, where the scarf she was wearing was doing a terrible job of hiding her latest romantic indiscretion. She hadn’t even bothered to use makeup to cover it this time. To his surprise, she had the grace to flush. “There will be no party,” he reiterated, enunciating slowly and clearly for her benefit. “No party. No people. There will be no cake and no drinks. Do I make myself clear?”Elizabeth swallowed, pale-faced and hard as ice. “So, is this it?” she asked, gesturing to the gulf of space between them. “Is this how things are going to be from now on?”“No.” Vlad pushed off from the counter, allowing himself a chilly smile as he walked away. “But it’s a start.”He was halfway up the stairs when Elizabeth came tearing after him. “Who is she?” she demanded, a wild, frantic note in her voice he’d never heard before. He would have thought she was scared if he didn’t know her better.“Who?”“Don’t give me that shit,” she spat, gesturing toward him. “You’ve been glued to your phone for months. Go on, who is she? What’s the little whore’s name? Do I know her?”Vlad regarded her in silence. He could have pointed out the irony of the pot calling the kettle a slut, but he was beyond caring about making her see the hypocrisy of her rage. He was just so tired. Of all of this.“No,” he admitted quietly, “you don’t know them.”“Oh, them, is it?” Elizabeth veered back, swallowing his admission of infidelity and using it to find ammunition to spit back at him. “We’re playing the pronoun game, are we? All right, what’s his name?”“None of our business,” Vlad replied coolly. He turned to leave again, then snatched his arm away when she tried to pull him back. “Do not touch me.”“Wait.” She gave an incredulous laugh, covering her mouth before planting both hands on her hips. Ready to fight. “You’re serious. Well, color me surprised. I didn’t know you still had it in you. I am curious, though. Aren’t you a little old for this sort of thing?”Vlad narrowed his eyes. “What sort of thing?”“Going down on your knees like that,” Elizabeth sneered, a malicious grin spreading over her face. It froze a moment later when Vlad laughed.“Oh, Lizzy.” He gave her a pitying look. “You’re one to talk. Although, seeing as how you brought it up, what bothers you more? The idea that you’re not the only one in this marriage blowing another man? Or that I might be better at it than you?”Elizabeth turned scarlet, spluttering incoherently.Vlad laughed again, the sound brittle and hollow. “I thought as much. Good night, Lizzy.”He made it all the way to his bedroom before the screaming started. “Where the Hell do you think you’re going? I’m not done talking to you!”“Well, too bad,” Vlad replied, not bothering to look back. “Because I’m done talking to you.”He was pretty proud that he got the door closed before his knees buckled; a manic, shaky laugh bubbled out of his chest as he leaned back against it, barricading himself inside. He waited in tense silence for the inevitable screaming that was sure to follow, but the house remained harrowingly silent.Vlad let out another shaky laugh and buried his face against his knees. He wasn’t entirely sure, but he was reasonably certain he’d just torpedoed his marriage.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“I, uh, spoke to Elizabeth the other day,” Lady Margarete ventured hesitantly as she hovered over the breakfast table where Vlad was sitting next to his father.It was yet another beautiful Saturday morning, and the French doors were open, allowing a cool breeze to circulate through the kitchen. According to the doctors, Vlad’s father needed more fresh air and sunlight, but this was as far as the older man would go.“Oh?” Vlad asked lightly. He already had an idea where this was going.“Yes, I called, wanting to talk about your party. You didn’t mention last week that she’d gone to stay with her sister…”“Oh, is that where she went?” Vlad took a nonchalant sip from his coffee and replayed the last few days in his head. He’d woken up the morning after their fight to find Elizabeth’s bedroom door left open: her closet doors flung wide open, the hangers empty, and the suitcases on the upper shelf gone. He’d stared at the scene for a while, knowing she’d orchestrated it to be as dramatic as possible, and so it’d be the first thing he saw when he woke up. Vlad was sure it was meant to prompt him into a panic. A flurry of frantic phone calls and pleading texts. But all Vlad felt was relief.It was a feeling that had yet to fade.Lady Margarete cleared her throat. “Yes, she sounded a bit peeved, to be honest. Rather a lot peeved, actually.”Vlad snorted into his coffee cup. “I’m sure she did.”Realizing that the polite hovering wasn’t getting her anywhere, Lady Margarete sat down in the empty chair beside him, a sympathetic hand resting on his arm. “Look, I don’t pretend to know what’s going on, but I’m sure whatever it is, it’s not too late to fix. Call her, bring her home.”Vlad arched an incredulous eyebrow at her. “Why the Hell would I want to do that?”“Bring who home?” his father asked. The older man moved painfully slow as he ate, a slight tremor making his knife rattle against the plate.“Elizabeth,” Vlad replied, watching as Lady Margarete reached across the table and cut the slice of toast his father was struggling with. There was a weird disconnect in Vlad’s brain between the father he’d known growing up and the older man in front of him now, who gummed his way through applesauce and struggled to hold a knife. It was jarring and more brutal to handle than Vlad cared to admit.“Is she not back from Paris yet?” The Count asked, looking at Vlad with eyes that were too bright to be focused on reality. “I thought she was home for the semester.”Vlad hesitated and glanced toward Lady Margarete. Elizabeth hadn’t been to Paris since they’d been in college well over a decade ago. His stepmother met his eye and discretely shook her head. Apparently, it was going to be one of those days.“She is,” Vlad replied carefully, not wanting to upset his father by correcting him. “But we’re not talking at the moment.”“Aha.” His father laughed shortly and gave Vlad a shrewd look. “Fallen out again, have you? Well, no matter. She’ll come around. Women always do. Your mother and I used to fight all the time.”Vlad took a diplomatic sip from his coffee. “Yes. I remember.”“Her and her damned Jefferson Airplane.”Vlad frowned. “What?”“Hmm?” His father looked up. “What’s what?”“Oh, Vlad dear, that reminds me.” Lady Margarete got up, tottering off on her impractical heels. She returned moments later, carrying a heavy box. “I was clearing out the attic and found some things you might want. There’s more in the hallway, but here, look.”She set it down on the table, and Vlad stood up to get a better look inside. “Vinyl records?”“They belonged to your mother,” his father said, his mind briefly touching down in the present again. “Damn things. She spent hours listening to them…”Vlad reached into the box, picking out an album at random. He pulled the vinyl disk from its sleeve, and a rectangular card fluttered to the floor. Stooping down to retrieve it, Vlad flipped it over. His breath stoppered in his chest when he realized what it was. It was a Polaroid, sun-damaged and faded, but Vlad would have known that smile anywhere.He’d spent nearly thirty years missing it.“I thought these were all destroyed when the house flooded,” he breathed, staring at the picture of his mother in his hand. She looked so young.“Not all of them,” Lady Margarete said. “I found more like that up in the attic, most of them damaged, I’m afraid.” She winced apologetically. “The box was lying open under the sunroof. I kept them anyway, just in case. There’s an old record player, too. I think it’s broken, but you could probably get it working again. You were always good at tinkering with things. I thought… well. I just thought.”Vlad blinked rapidly, his jaw working as he tried to find the words for the devastating wave of gratitude welling up in his chest. A week after his first stepmother moved in, she’d swept all his mother’s belongings into the basement. Every picture, every memento, all her art and clothes. It was all boxed away and hidden—out of sight, out of mind. As though his mother had never been. Vlad had been at boarding school when the pipes burst, flooding the house and ruining everything in the basement. He’d cried himself to sleep for a week when he’d found out, not caring what any of the other boys in his dormitory thought of him. He’d been left with only a handful of photos, including the one that now sat on his desk at work.He hugged the vinyl to his chest.Vlad had never dreamed he’d ever get to hold anything personal of hers ever again.“Thank you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.“Oh, it’s nothing, dear.” Lady Margarete waved him off. “I was just clearing things out and—oh!” She laughed, wrapping her arms around him and returning the crushing hug he’d enveloped her in. She gave him an affectionate pat on the head, a gesture he would never have tolerated in his youth. Then again, he never would have hugged her back then, either. “There now, don’t be silly.” She fussed him away, turning her gaze to the ceiling and fanning her face with her hands. “You’ll make my mascara run.” Behind her, the oven dinged, and she looked around in alarm. “Oh! My tartlets!”Vlad resumed his seat next to his father, distantly aware of Lady Margarete clacking around behind him as he peered more closely at the photo. Slight and pale with green-gray eyes (muddy, she’d called them), Vlad’s mother had always had an ethereal look about her. As though she didn’t fully belong in this world. Changeling, his father had called her, and Vlad too, when it’d become apparent he would grow into her slim proportions. The same angular features. Same wavy hair. Same eyes, Same smile.Same melancholic nature.Vlad smiled sadly, caressing a thumb over her faded features. He turned the photo over. The date read: Spring Break ’76. She’d been so damn young…“She was so beautiful,” his father said. Vlad jumped, surprised to find his father’s attention fixated on the photo. He reached for it, and Vlad, ever mindful of his father’s temper, handed it over reluctantly. There was no spark of ire, though. No bitter resentment that might threaten to tear it apart. Instead, the older man just looked sad, trailing his bony fingers over the faded image in the ghost of a caress, much as Vlad had done. “I always wondered what I did for things to go so wrong…”“It wasn’t your fault,” Vlad said. The words were automatic. Reflexive.His father snorted. “Oh, I’m sure I did plenty.” He handed the photo back, his milky-blue eyes fixing on Vlad’s face, mapping out his son’s features with a look of unspeakable sorrow. “You’re so like her…”Vlad bit the inside of his cheek. “I know.”“I hate it.”“I know.”Silence hung between them; a lifetime of pain and mutual resentment cradled within it. After a while, his father said, “So, she’s found out then. Your Elizabeth.”Vlad sighed. There was no point denying anything now. “Yes.”“Get a lawyer,” his father said brusquely. “You’ll need one.”Vlad huffed, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. “The thought had crossed my mind.”“Is she worth it?” his father asked, eyeing Vlad out of the corner of his eye.“Who?”“The girl you’re throwing everything away for.”Vlad pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache coming on. “I’m not getting divorced for someone else.”“No?” His father sounded skeptical. Vlad couldn’t blame him.“No. The thing with the girl isn’t… it’s not serious.” It pained Vlad to say it, but it was true. What he had with Nathan and Ursula was… everything he wanted. But it’d taper out eventually when they got bored or met someone better suited for them. He sighed, suddenly weary to his core. “I’m doing this for me. I’m tired of the way things are between us. Christ knows I’ve tried to make things work.”And he had, Vlad thought. He had tried so hard. Flawed and broken as he was, he’d tried to get better for her. Tried to give her everything she wanted. Hacked away at himself to fit into the mold she wanted. Vanishing inside himself until all that was left was loneliness and bitter resentment. But it’d never been enough. He wasn’t enough; he never could be. Not for her. Not for anyone.“But?” his father prompted.Vlad scrubbed his hands over his face. “But it’s like she enjoys how broken things are, and I just… I can’t keep doing it anymore. I can’t. I’m too tired…”His father regarded him in silence for several moments. Then, with trembling hands, he reached across the table and poured Vlad another cup of coffee. * Later, surrounded by newspaper and his toolkit strewn across the kitchen floor, Vlad sat with his back pressed against the island counter, his legs sprawled out in front of him. Beside him, his mother’s old record player blared out the sound of Grace Slick’s unapologetic vocals, the needle skipping and popping over imperfections in the vinyl.
“When the truth is found to be lies, and all the joy within you dies…”
He’d always liked Jefferson Airplane. He had fond, hazy memories of listening to them in his mother’s art studio—back when she’d been well enough to paint. It’d seemed like she was possessed by the music: spinning and twirling in vibrant swirls of emotion her paintbrushes could never hope to capture. Other times, it was as though it crawled inside her skin, her willowy frame crumpling under the weight of the lyrics.
“Don’t you want somebody to love? Don’t you need somebody to love?”
Vlad had smoked his first joint to the tune of White Rabbit, the sound of the drums hammering out the beat of his pulse as Grace Slick’s voice dipped and rose over the snarl of the guitars. His mother had sat opposite him, staring up at stars only she could see. He’d been twelve.
“Wouldn’t you love somebody to love?”
That was probably something he should bring up in therapy.
“You better find somebody to love, love, love…”
Vlad glanced down at his hands. They were solidly filthy from tinkering around with the innards of the record player, but it was an honest kind of grime. The kind that fixed things. It felt good to fix something again. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d worked with his hands. He missed it. He missed painting, sketching, and pulling things apart to see if he could put them back together again. He’d been good at it. Fixing things. Shame that skill hadn’t extended to other facets of his life.Forgotten on the counter, Vlad’s phone alarm chimed, reminding him it was time to make food before his Skype date with Nathan and Ursula. He hadn’t even realized it had gotten dark out. Standing up with a grunt (and snoozing his phone off with his nose), Vlad elbowed the kitchen faucet on and soaped his hands up. It was pure habit to twist his wedding ring off and set it down on the counter as he scoured the dirt from his hands. And habit again that prompted him to pick it up when he was done. But it was something else that kept him from putting it back on again.Vlad eyed it curiously, trying to put a name to the heavy feeling in his chest.As rings went, it was a simple thing: an unadorned silver band; the surface scratched and dinged from constant wear. Another talisman he’d clung to. A symbol of the life he was supposed to have. It’d been on his finger so long it had left a permanent dent in his skin. Vlad rubbed his thumb over the marked flesh. He wondered how long it would take for the lines to fade if they ever would. Inevitably, his mind turned to Elizabeth. He wondered if she was still as frantic as she’d seamed the night they’d fought or if she’d settled into a sense of certainty that this would pass given enough time.Behind him, the record reached its end, the needle scratching over the surface with a harsh screech and filling the room with recursive static. Vlad continued to stare at his ring. Then, slowly and carefully, like he was handling a live explosive, he put it back down. It ought to have felt monumental. Like he’d severed a part of himself. But all he felt was a quiet sense of certainty. No matter what happened next, there was no going back now.Not if he wanted to make it out alive.The thought sent a shiver racing down his spine, adrenaline surging through his veins as a primal desire to survive made itself known. He’d assumed he’d long since killed that instinct. Drowned it in misery, drugs, and alcohol. But apparently not. It was enough to make his teeth chatter, and Vlad wrapped his arms around himself in the semblance of a hug. He had no idea what to do next. Or how to handle it. If he could handle it. The thought of the fallout from divorcing Elizabeth was enough to make him nauseous, a deep cloying dread that clawed its way up his spine. But the alternative was worse. He knew that now. If Vlad stayed in his marriage, he would relapse, and there was no guarantee he’d be able to pull himself out of it again. Sure, he might relapse anyway—that was always a risk—but it felt less likely. And besides, he wasn’t alone. He had Allen, Dr. Lestrange, and Riya—and therefore Kitty by default. He even had Lady Margarete and his father to some extent.And Ursula and Nathan.Except he didn’t have them, not really. Not while he was lying to them. Not while they didn’t know him. What he was. He knew it was unlikely they’d want to stay once they did. But wasn’t that better? To be honest and lose them now, than to lie and lose them anyway when they got tired and moved on? But what if they did want to stay? What if they didn’t want to leave once they knew the truth? What if… what if he could keep this tiny sliver of happiness a while longer? Just for a little bit.Vlad shook his head. The thought was so far out of the realm of possibility it was both laughable and heartbreaking. And yet…He had hope.As abruptly as the shaking started, it stopped: quelled under the balm of this new realization. Vlad had hope. It was more than he’d ever thought he’d be allowed to have ever again. And what was hope for if not for grasping on with both hands and using it as fuel to be brave? Still hugging himself, Vlad realized what he had to do next.He was going to tell them.He was going to tell them everything.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
"Hey!" Ursula said, smiling into the lens of the camera as the call connected. She glimpsed herself on the screen and adjusted the angle of the laptop lid. She would have dressed up for a session like this with anyone else. Kept a watchful eye on the screen to make sure her back was arched just right and her smile never wavered. With Mister V, she felt comfortable enough to dress down—swamped in one of Nathan's hoodies with her unruly hair tied up into a bun. There were many aspects of being admired and even objectified Ursula enjoyed. Still, it was also nice to slump against the headboard with your boyfriend and watch crappy movies with your… whatever Mister V was.Sugar Sir? Glucose Guardian? Whatever."Hey, yourself," Mister V greeted her. He sounded exhausted, even for him. "Is Nathan not with you?"She nodded to the door off-screen. "He's making popcorn. Shouldn't be too long.""Oh. Good."Ursula opened her mouth, then hesitated. It wasn't uncommon for Mister V to sound tired and stilted during their calls. Sometimes it took him a while to warm up to conversation, which was fine. Nathan was also quiet; Ursula could talk enough for all three of them if they let her. But there was something off about Mister V's tone. A clipped edge of tension straining under the weight of his silence.Despite the sudden heavy dread in her stomach, Ursula forced a smile onto her face. "So, how was the rest of your week?" she asked, striving to fill the sucking void of silence that had opened up between them. "We hardly heard from you yesterday. Or today."Mister V sighed audibly, and Ursula hoped he hadn't taken it as a reprimand. He'd been so flirty and chatty after sending them the book; it'd been exhilarating. But then their conversation had stopped mid-thread, leaving the conversation hanging. Mister V had texted once on Friday morning, apologizing for his absence, then asking if they were still on for tonight. Ursula had replied that they were, and Mister V had liked it before falling silent again. She'd assumed he'd been busy. Something hectic at work again. Now she was worried it was something more."I'm sorry about that. Some… stuff happened. I had to deal with it.""Stuff." Ursula wrinkled her nose. "Sounds tedious. Want to talk about it?"He was quiet, just long enough for Ursula to feel the chasm of anxiety widen in her belly. "Yes, actually. I do. But I'd prefer to wait for Nathan if that's all right.""Sure." Ursula nodded, aware that her heart was beating too quickly for comfort. "Nate?" she called out, hoping he'd hear her tone and hurry."Coming!" Nathan replied, hustling back into the room and carrying a bowl of popcorn in one hand and a pint of ice cream in the other. "What did I miss?" he asked, jostling Ursula as he joined her on the bed."Not much," Ursula replied, hearing the strain of anxiety in her voice. "Mister V was telling me he had something to tell both of us."Nathan tensed imperceptibly beside her, his blue eyes swiveling down to meet hers. "Oh."He set the snacks on the nightstand and settled comfortably behind her, looping his arm around her waist. She turned back to the screen, and Ursula braced herself for whatever was about to come next. Was he sick? Was he going somewhere for business? Was he breaking up with them? No. Not the last one. You had to be dating someone before you could break up with them.Mister V cleared his throat. "I, uh, I spent the last hour working out what to say. Now I don't know where to begin…"Ursula squeezed her eyes shut as a sickening wave of nausea rolled over her. Devon was right; they should have asked more questions. She bit her lip. The silence was unbearable. Taking the plunge for him, she asked, "Well, where does your wife think you should start?"If Ursula thought his silence was painful before, it was agonizing now. She wanted him to deny it. To be affronted at her accusation, angry and hurt enough to demand an apology for jumping to such a conclusion. But no such demands were forthcoming. Not even a denial. Instead, Mister V asked in a subdued voice, "What gave me away?"Ursula felt Nathan tense behind her, mirroring the stab of pain in her chest. She laughed bitterly and forced herself to look directly into the camera. "Oh, just a hunch. I told you before; you're not my first daddy, Daddy."The word was delivered like a slap. Ursula knew he hated it. But that was all right because right now, Ursula hated him too."I'm sorry," he said, his voice muffled like he had his hands over his face. "I should have told you from the start. I wanted to, but things are… complicated. And I never thought—I never intended for things between us to go so far."Ursula nodded and turned her face up to the ceiling, blinking rapidly. She refused to cry on camera. At least, not without a hefty stipend.Nathan sat stiff and unmoving behind her, mute in his misery. Or possibly anger. He always went still and quiet when he was upset. Ursula felt another stab of pain. She'd dragged him into this, convinced him it'd be a good idea. She'd promised she knew how to keep it from getting complicated. What a lie that'd turned out to be."So, what is this?" Ursula asked. "Your mea culpa moment?""Something like that.""Does your wife know?" Nathan asked, startling Ursula with the sound of his voice."She knows… something," Mister V admitted cagily."That's why you've been holding back," Ursula said, all the oddities about their interactions falling into place. All the nights he'd been unavailable. The clandestine silence surrounding his life. She'd been a damn fool not to see the red flags sooner. No, she corrected herself; she'd willfully ignored them, which was much worse.Ursula always knew, deep down, that things between them could end like this. Sugaring was a murky business at the best of times, and it'd been foolish to let herself get attached to Mister V. He was supposed to be their income, nothing more. Yet she'd grown to like him, with his quiet kindness and gentle humor. Even more foolishly, she'd allowed herself to hope that maybe this time, things might be different. And how could she not when he sent them gifts so personal and called them the lights of his life? How was she not supposed to develop feelings? How was she not supposed to hope?Gripped by a sudden morbid curiosity, she asked, "How long have you been married?""Seventeen years," Mister V replied. Nathan drew in a sharp breath, and Ursula allowed herself a humorless laugh. At least he'd told them, she reflected. And his wife. At least he'd had the decency to do that instead of ghosting them. The bar for what counted as decent behavior was often so low it was surrounded by magma, yet she'd still met plenty of people who would try to limbo under it. "And let me guess." She plowed on, resenting that she was still being made to carry the conversation even now. "You've realized what a terrible mistake you've made, and now it's time to focus on fixing your marriage?"Ursula expected another apology. A string of explanations or justifications for his behavior. Silence would have been more anticipated than the burst of laughter that cracked over the speakers, startling her and Nathan."God, no." Mister V continued to laugh. He sounded close to hysterics. "Absolutely not. No, that's… that's not where this is going." He drew in an audible breath, his tone sobering slightly. "Things… things between us haven't been good for a while now—""You don't owe us an explanation," Nathan interjected. His tone was terse, defensive. As though he was guarding his heart against the pain any more truth might cause. The same pain currently ripping Ursula's chest apart. "We all know this was only ever supposed to be transactional.""And I think everyone here also knows we blew past that stage a while ago, don't you?" Mister V asked lightly.Nathan clenched his jaw so hard Ursula heard his teeth grinding. "Fine," he ground out behind her. "Explain."Mister V cleared his throat. "As I said, things haven't been good for a while now. Elizabeth and I don't love each other for whatever it's worth. We barely even talk. I'd like to say we were happy at some point, but I'm not sure we ever were. I'm not sure of anything anymore. And I know this doesn't absolve anything I've done. I know I did an awful thing, and I'm sorry. I just… I need you to know I've done nothing like this before. But after her last affair, I just…" He broke off, his voice cracking apart in his throat. "I just couldn't take it anymore, and I needed to feel something. Anything other than what I was feeling. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt either of you…"Nathan and Ursula exchanged a look."Her last affair?" Ursula asked. "How many affairs has she had?""That's a good question," Mister V replied. He sounded like he'd buried his head in his hands again. "And one I'll likely never know the answer to. I found out about her cheating a year after we got married. I kept quiet at first. I thought she'd grow tired of it. But…" He trailed off again."But she didn't," Nathan finished for him."No."Nathan shook his head. He was still upset; Ursula could feel it in the tense line of his body pressed against her back. But Nathan could no more be cruel in the face of someone else's suffering than he could go without oxygen. It just wasn't in his nature to go without compassion. "Did you ever confront her about it?"Mister V gave a broken laugh. "Several times. It didn't matter to her. I suppose I just gave up in the end. It was easier to just… stop caring. Go numb."Ursula shook her head. She couldn't imagine staying with someone who cheated on her, let alone for seventeen years. When her ex turned out to be toxic, Ursula ran as far and as fast as she could without looking back. She hadn't even stopped to pack most of her things. "Why stay with her?" she asked, wanting to understand. "Why not just leave?"Mister V drew in another audible breath. "I… it's complicated.""Try us," Nathan said, though not unkindly."I… there's something else you need to know. That week when I vanished. I wasn't… I wasn't well."Nathan and Ursula exchanged another look. "You weren't well?" Ursula asked."No…" Mister V trailed off again, struggling. "Oh, fuck it." His voice took on a manic, almost sing-song quality. "Hello, my name is V — 'Mister V' and I'm a recovering addict. Sorry."Nathan and Ursula exchanged yet another look."You're…" Nathan began, and this time it was Mister V who interjected before he could finish."I'm an addict. I have issues with substance abuse: drugs and alcohol. Mostly the latter. I've struggled most of my life, ever since my teens. I've been sober on and off for over twenty years. I do the program; I go to meetings. But it's still… hard. Sorry," he said again. "I understand if you want to end the call here. I know this isn't what you signed on for."Ursula opened her mouth, hazarding for something to say. Addiction was hard to admit to—even more challenging to recover from. She'd seen it destroy countless families during her time in foster care. Vulnerable individuals left to flounder in the system without enough support. Never enough safety nets in place. Never enough social workers to help deal with a highly stigmatized problem everyone was quick to blame on individual weakness and not the horrors of the system. It was tragic, and despite her anger, she felt her heart go out to him."Thank you for telling us," she said at last. "That must have taken a lot of courage." "Thank you," Mister V replied. His voice was so small that Ursula barely heard him."You said you weren't well…" Nathan began slowly. "Did something happen that week when you vanished?""I didn't relapse. But... almost," Mister V admitted. He sounded like he might be about to throw up. "Sorry. As I said, things aren't good here. Elizabeth and I hardly see each other. We usually just fight when we do. But we're still going through the motions in public. Family events, work functions, friends…""Keeping up appearances," Ursula murmured."Exactly. We were supposed to do brunch with some friends. Well, her friends, not mine. But we, uh, w-we went out for dinner instead and, and…" He was stuttering so hard Ursula thought his teeth might be chattering. He sounded on the verge of hyperventilating."Mister V," she said gently, all of her ire forgotten, "what happened?""It was just supposed to be dinner," he said, sounding plaintive, "but then everyone started ordering drinks for the table—which is fine! I don't… it doesn't bother me if people drink around me, but when I didn't order anything, they turned it into this stupid thing and kept pressuring me. I said no, then Lizzy said something about how I'm no fun anymore and started laughing, and I just—"Ursula inhaled sharply, her anger at Mister V replaced by a new, more visceral rage. "Wait. Your friends pressure you to drink?""It's not their fault," Mister V hurried to placate her, his tone almost pleading. "They don't know. I've told no one outside of my family before…""Presumably, your wife knows!" Ursula exploded, unable to contain her ire any longer. She could hear Nathan shushing her, trying to get her to calm down, but Ursula was incensed. "And it doesn't fucking matter if they know or not. No means no! It's a whole fucking sentence! I mean, what the fuck—who pressures someone to drink? And who the fuck puts their partner in that situation? Doesn't your wife care? Doesn't she want you to get better?!""Funny you should bring that up," Mister V said, sounding like he might be about to throw up again. "I started seeing a therapist. She thinks—we think Elizabeth sabotages my sobriety to keep me with her. I didn't think so at first. I suppose I didn't want to. But the more I think about it—""Oh my God!" Ursula exclaimed, turning to look at Nathan, near frantic with distress.Nathan held a calming hand up, his features set into a grim, unhappy line. But for different reasons now. "Are you safe where you are? Do you need help to leave?"Mister V stammered. "I… no, I mean yes." He sounded perplexed by their concern; it made Ursula's heart squeeze. "I'm in the house by myself. We had another fight on Thursday. She came home unexpectedly. Normally she's out at night with… whoever she's with. We'd been avoiding each other since the night at the restaurant. She came in acting like nothing was wrong and started talking about my birthday, of all things. I said I didn't want a party, which turned into a fight. She tried to twist it and make me feel like I was being unreasonable." His voice wobbled, and Ursula squeezed her eyes shut. He sounded so alone. "When I walked away, she grabbed me. Tried to start another fight. She accused me of cheating. I didn't deny it. She walked out and took all her things. I haven't seen her since.""Good, that's good," Nathan said firmly. "Do you have a plan to get away from her if you need to?""I have… family," Mister V replied, sounding uncertain. "They're aware that things have deteriorated rather spectacularly. I have my sponsor, too."Ursula sagged with relief. She'd been afraid he might have no one. Then, because she needed to know, she asked, "Are you sure you're okay?"Mister V laughed again. It was a humorless sound. "Do you mean, apart from needing to find a divorce attorney by Monday? Yeah, I'm… doing better. I've been... going to extra meetings. Just to be sure.""That's good," Nathan said. Ursula recognized the tone of voice he was using. It was the one he used whenever he suspected someone at the club was on the verge of subdrop, and their dom couldn't be found. It was firm and calm but also warm and reassuring. She wondered if he was doing it for her benefit as well. "And you said you're seeing a therapist?"Mister V made an affirmative noise. "Yeah. I started seeing her last week. She works with substance abuse and… and domestic abuse. My sponsor recommended her. She's weird.""Weird?" Ursula laughed, unable to help herself. It was a nervous reflex. She was the person who giggled at funerals. It was an unfortunate coping mechanism. "Like, good weird?"Mister V made another affirmative noise. "Yeah. Lots of plants and crystals everywhere. Quotes The Addam's family to me. I thought she'd push for couple's counseling, but… I guess things are worse than I realized." He laughed, another broken-hearted sound that cracked apart, lodging itself in Ursula's chest. She'd never wanted to hug someone she'd never met before so much in all her life. "But she's good. We're working through a lot.""That's good," Nathan said, still leaning heavily on affirmations. "Therapy is always a good idea.""I never used to think so, but my prior experiences largely pertained to whatever facility my parents forced me into in my teens, so…" Mister V trailed off, then cleared his throat. "Sorry, that's likely more than you wanted to know. I'm sure all of this is.""No, it's good," Ursula rushed to reassure him. He'd said earlier that no one outside his family knew about his struggles with addiction, presumably because he'd been shamed into keeping it a secret. She couldn't imagine how alienating it must always be to hide a part of yourself, especially if it put you into dangerous situations. Her mouth crooked wryly to the side as she tried for humor. "We talked the other night about how we wanted to get to know you better. Can't get much more intimate than this."It worked, somewhat. The sound Mister V made was closer to a scoff than a laugh, but it was better than before. "Me? What on earth for?""Because," Ursula said, deciding to lay her cards out on the table, "that's how that works when you're romantically interested in someone."The silence between them was deafening, and Ursula held her breath. After a few more seconds, Mister V responded, stuttering worse than he had before. "I-I… you are?" "Well, I can't speak for both of us." She glanced over her shoulder at Nathan, who looked down at her, his expression hard to read. After a second, he shrugged, jerking his head in an imperceptible nod. Even if his own feelings were still conflicted, he'd respect Ursula's. "But as you said, we moved past our agreed-upon arrangement a while ago. I'm not saying I'm not hurt; I am. Or that we won't need to discuss some things, but…" She bit her lip. "All things considered, this isn't a deal breaker for me. I'd still like to get to know you better.""I… What?" He sounded so incredulous. Ursula couldn't help but laugh again. Even Nathan huffed behind her. "But I just told you I'm an addict!""And you just assumed we'd run?" Nathan asked."Well, yes!"Nathan shook his head. "Look, Ursula's right, we're going to have to talk about this more, and I admit, I've got my reservations—but not because you admitted to having a mental illness. It's everything else. It's messy, and I don't like mess. But that's also on us too.""No—" Mister V began, but this time it was Ursula who cut him off."Yes, it is. At least in part. You didn't tell us, but we also knew something was up. We just didn't want to confront it. Not even when we moved beyond the sugaring agreements we put in place. That's on us, well, me," Ursula amended, allowing herself a guilty shrug. "You're new to this, Nathan too. I should have known better, reinforced boundaries, or pushed for a conversation about where we were heading."Mister V was silent again, then said. "I'm still not sure that's right, but even if you do see it that way, it still doesn't change anything about what I've done.""No, it doesn't," Ursula agreed. "But as you said at the start, things are complicated. I don't condone cheating. Healthy relationships require communication, even if that communication is that you'd like it to be over. But…" She bit her lip. "It's also easy to judge people without being in their shoes, and sometimes you end up doing bad things for a better outcome." Like leaving your abusive spouse and realizing you deserve better, Ursula thought. "And if everything you've said is true...""It is.""Then again, speaking for myself, this isn't enough to make me want to break off our correspondence.""Agreed," Nathan added, surprising her. "Unless you want it to be over. Then we'd understand. Do you want to end this?" He gestured between the screen and themselves. "No," Mister V replied hoarsely. "But… why?"Ursula blinked. "Why what?""Why don't you want to? I just admitted to all the worst parts of myself.""You admitted to being in a hellish situation and lying by omission. Except, of course, we never asked." Ursula held her hands up. "Again, that's on me. I even brought it up with Nathan the other night. I… didn't want to bring it up with you and lose what we had in case my suspicions were right.""But why?"Ursula blinked again. Wasn't it obvious? "Because we like you, silly.""Oh."How long has it been since someone has been nice to you? Ursula thought. How broken down is your sense of self-worth that you didn't know we liked you..."I'm going to make a suggestion," she said. "I'm going to suggest we start over. Get to know each other from scratch. Instead of projecting onto each other and miscommunicating like we're in a bad rom-com."Nathan nodded. "Agreed. Though I'm going to counter that by saying we get to know each other better as friends first. Just while you're dealing with... everything. Also, we should end the financial aspect of things right now—""No." Mister V cut him off. He sounded so churlish at the mere suggestion, like a child being told to stand in the corner. Ursula couldn't help but giggle."We should end that now," Nathan reiterated clearly, not allowing himself to be spoken over. "You've done more than enough for us, and money complicates things, especially if you're about to go through a divorce. That shit's expensive."Mister V laughed, though somewhat less despairingly than before. "I appreciate the sentiment, but money is not an issue.""You sound awfully sure of that.""Trust me; it's my job to be sure about money."Nathan looked ready to keep arguing, so Ursula gave him a reassuring pat on the thigh. "Well, we're glad to hear that." She did not know what kind of situation he was in where a messy divorce wouldn't ruin his finances, but if the contract he'd written for them was any sign of how he could write financial contracts, then she was sure whatever prenup agreement he had in place was airtight. "But we're still invoking the right to end our contract. Starting now."Mister V made an unhappy sound, but he agreed all the same. "Fine. Then I'm still paying the end of agreement terms.""But…""You just said you're invoking the end of the contract, which means you agree to the end terms. Including the stipend—""Y'know, I'm pretty sure that thing's not legally binding," Nathan interjected. Mister V gave a sad sigh."Please. If you will not let me keep paying for things, at least let me honor what was promised. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I consider myself to be an honest man of my word."Nathan and Ursula exchanged glances. Ursula shrugged, and Nathan frowned. The financial aspect of their dynamic was something Mister V enjoyed. Ursula had enjoyed it too, though she saw the sense in ending it now. But she wouldn't argue with being able to shore up a few more months' rent, either. You never knew when something might happen, and you'd need some extra money for emergencies."Fine," Nathan agreed, evidently coming to the same conclusion."And the wish list stays," Mister V added quickly.Nathan's eyes narrowed visibly on the camera. "Now you're just chancing your luck…""Is it working?"Ursula rolled her eyes. "Fine.""What? Sue!" Nathan objected, but Ursula held up a silencing hand."On one condition.""Anything," Mister V said automatically."You make a wish list for yourself, and we get to send you things."Mister V spluttered. "But that's not—""You said anything," Ursula reminded him sweetly. "It's not my fault you didn't wait to find out what the terms were first."Mister V made another unhappy sound in the back of his throat. Like a cat whose fur was being ruffled the wrong way. While she suspected that gift-giving was a significant part of his love language—possibly even a kink—gift receiving was not. But if he wanted them to give more ground, he would have to do the same."Fine," he said at last."Good, glad that's settled." She twisted around to look at Nathan, who nodded."So, what do we do now?" Mister V asked."Well, I suppose we do what we said. We get to know each other and see where that takes us," Ursula replied."Right, and how do we do that?""I think that depends on how much you're willing to share," Ursula said tactfully. His anonymity had been an original part of their agreement, and she didn't want to push him into revealing more than he was comfortable with, not while he was so vulnerable.Nathan, apparently, held no such qualms. "Like your name," he said, "and what you want out of this.""My name…""I'm not saying we'd use it." Nathan shrugged, turning the movement into a stretch as he cracked his back. A physical manifestation of the tension easing between them. "I'm kind of digging the whole 'Mister V' thing, but it'd be nice to know who we're talking to."Mister V paused, then asked. "I don't suppose you'd believe me if I said, Bruce Wayne?"Ursula snapped her fingers, leaning into the old joke. "I knew it!"Mister V laughed—the first real-sounding laugh he'd given them all night. Nathan snorted and shook his head. "All right, I should have seen that coming. But I would still like to know; otherwise, I'm not sure I'd feel comfortable going forward.""You can take some time to think about it—" Ursula hastened to add but was cut off by Mister V instead."Vlad. My name is Vlad.""Vlad," Ursula repeated, rolling it over in her head, trying to get a feel for it. It was an unusual name in this part of the world, dated to the point of being almost archaic. But it felt right. "I like it," she pronounced.Mister V snorted. "Thank you. I think."Nathan wrinkled his nose at the camera in a pretty excellent imitation of Ursula when she was feeling bratty. "I still prefer 'Mister V.'"Ursula elbowed him in the ribs. "Which do you prefer?" she asked."I'm honestly not very fond of it," Mister V admitted. "I sign my name 'V' wherever I can get away with it.""All right." Ursula nodded. "Mister V, it remains."She smiled at the relieved sigh, just audible on the other end of the camera. It was nice, she knew, to be known as yourself. Names were powerful like that.There was a pause, then Mister V asked, "Sorry, but is that it? We're just… moving on and talking about things like everything's fine?""For a value of 'fine,'" Nathan replied. He reached for the nightstand, where the tub of ice cream was turning into a milkshake. "I'd like to see how things go, but we'll get there when it comes to it.""Right," Mister V said. He sounded like he'd never experienced this kind of conflict resolution before. He possibly hadn't, Ursula realized. "Well, thank you for listening and understanding. I'm sorry I ruined your evening with all of this…""Did you?" Ursula asked, glancing at her wrist despite not wearing a watch. "Because, by my count, it's not over yet.""It… it isn't?""Nah," Nathan replied, swirling his spoon through the melted mixture. "We're barely just beginning.""You're welcome to hang around and watch something with us," Ursula offered, smiling softly at the camera. There wouldn't be any of their usual flirting, innuendo, or even the casual conversation they'd enjoyed thus far. But that didn't mean he had to be alone tonight, either. Stay, Ursula willed, say yes and stay.There was a beat of silence; then Mister V cleared his throat. "I would like that. But only if you're sure.""We're sure," Ursula and Nathan spoke simultaneously. "Jinx, you owe me a coke," Nathan interjected before she could do the same to him.Ursula rolled her eyes and sighed. "Ugh, fine." She untangled herself from the bedsheets, clambering over Nathan with as little grace as she could muster. "Do you want anything else while I'm up?""A straw for this." Nathan held up his tub of ice cream."What about you?" she asked, turning back to face the camera where she knew Mister V was still watching. "Do you want anything?"She'd meant it teasingly, but there was something about how Mister V replied that told her he'd taken it seriously. "No, thank you. I've got everything I want right here."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“Well,” Dr. Lestrange said after a diplomatic pause, “you’ve certainly had a busy week. How are you holding up with all of that?”Vlad shrugged, using the gesture to roll the tension out of his shoulders. After a day of talking to divorce attorneys, Dr. Lestrange’s office’s quiet, plant-filled calm was a welcome reprieve.He looked around the room, his eye falling on a particularly long and verdant pothos cascading down the side of the bookcase. He’d always liked plants. Vlad’s grandmother—what few memories he had of her—had spent hours chasing him around her overgrown garden. He remembered looking up at the shadow of her wisteria and rose-covered house and thinking it was the stuff fairy tales were made of. A far cry from the stark green golf course lawn and minimalist bedding that surrounded his current house. It was soothing, he decided, to be surrounded by greenery again.Which was just as well because his nerves were shot to pieces.“Fine, I guess. Mostly I’m just tired, but…” Vlad shrugged, attempting to convey a lifetime of chronic insomnia in a single gesture. “That’s nothing new.”Dr. Lestrange made a soft humming sound. Vlad dreaded that noise; it usually heralded the imminent decimation of a load-bearing self-defense mechanism he didn’t even know was in place until the walls came crumbling down. “Would you say you’re more tired than usual?” she asked.Vlad narrowed his eyes and turned his concentration inward. “Maybe. Why?”“Living with constant trauma is exhausting,” she explained. “Under normal circumstances, stress primes the brain for fight or flight, which is a useful survival mechanism. Prolonged stress breaks this mechanism, and the flight or fight mode stays activated. It makes getting restful sleep impossible. Processing trauma is also fatiguing. Essentially, your brain isn’t getting a chance to switch off. And from the sound of it, you’re not getting any extra sleep. Rest is a vital part of trauma processing and recovery.” Which was another word Vlad was struggling to come to terms with.
Trauma.
Trauma happened to brave people—soldiers and civilians who lived in war zones. Vlad had protested as much the first time she’d used it to explain why his brain constantly felt like pudding being run through a shredder. He wasn’t sure she was right, but he’d also given up knee-jerk rejecting everything she said.“I’m wondering if you might benefit from taking something to help you sleep—”Almost everything.“No.”Dr. Lestrange tilted her head to the side. “I know you’ve already said no to medication, and I wasn’t going to suggest sleeping pills. I was going to suggest a supplement: melatonin. It’s a hormone the brain produces naturally, though sometimes not enough of it. You can buy it at the drugstore or most health food stores. You might find it helpful.”Vlad grimaced. The thought of taking any pills made him uncomfortable. He didn’t even take Advil when he had a headache. It was better to suffer the pain than to open the floodgates to the multitude of pitfalls and potential crutches that lay beyond the iron-clad walls of deprivation he’d built for himself. He told himself that coffee and cigarettes didn’t count. Those were socially acceptable vices—or at least the coffee was.Sleep deprivation and over-caffeination were a cultural norm at this point. It was practically expected of him, even if it felt like it was killing him.Vlad sighed, leaning his elbows on his knees and pressing the heel of his palms into his eyes until purple splotches danced over his vision. Dr. Lestrange was right, of course. He was doing too much, and the weight of it was crushing him. But it wasn’t like he could slow down. Work demanded all his time, and he now had to file a mountain of paperwork—not to mention all the assets he had to lay his hands on and account for. The attorney he’d settled on had been adamant about doing it as quickly as possible. Not to mention the restraining order he had to file to keep Elizabeth away from the house until the divorce was finalized.Vlad still didn’t know how to feel about that. It felt like overkill to him. But given how poor his judgment had been over the last seventeen years, he was willing to be led. Maybe the supplement wasn’t such a bad idea if he thought about it that way. Anything that helped him fall asleep at a regular hour was worth considering. Though, now that he thought about it, his sleep schedule had fallen into something that, if you squinted, could almost be called routine. He frowned, thinking harder. In fact, he’d started sleeping better ever since he’d started talking to Ursula and Nathan.“You mean since you stopped engaging with nightly arguments with Elizabeth and found other meaningful outlets for socialization?” Dr. Lestrange asked when he brought it up.“You make it sound so simple and obvious when you say it like that,” Vlad complained.Dr. Lestrange shrugged. “It is. But just because something is simple and obvious doesn’t make it easy. And establishing new social connections is difficult. Especially when it sounds like Elizabeth has gone to great lengths to keep you isolated.”Vlad frowned, staring at his hands. That didn’t sound right. “When did I say that?”Dr. Lestrange flipped through her notes. “We talked briefly last time about your sister. You said Elizabeth did everything to discourage you from talking after she moved.”“I did?”“You said you only call your sister when you’re at work because you know it annoys Elizabeth when you do it at home. You also said that most of your friends had drifted away, and the only people you see are Elizabeth’s friends and the people at your AA meetings. Your family is…” She paused, leafing through another notepad. Vlad cringed at how full it already was. “Your family is its own trauma. And while it sounds like your new friends are supportive, the hours they keep are hardly conducive to rest.” Vlad sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. Somehow, it sounded all so much worse hearing someone else say it. He also knew she was right. His late-night chats with Nathan and Ursula often left him sleep-deprived, but he didn’t want to give them up. Not when they’d been so overwhelmingly kind and understanding about everything. Not when they’d used words like “romantically interested” and “get to know each other better.”Not when they’d been so angry on his behalf.Vlad was used to people being angry around him. It was the default reaction he’d come to expect from existing. And while they had been mad at him initially, it’d been nothing compared to the rage he’d seen on their faces when he told them about Elizabeth sabotaging his sobriety. It’d been like watching twin suns go nova: one ready to explode and take everything with it, and the other freezing over until it was deathly cold and unforgiving. And even then, his well-being had been their primary concern. Vlad wasn’t sure, but the more he thought about it, the more he suspected they’d been preparing to come and get him if he’d said he wasn’t safe.It was more than his fragile heart could take.“Ugh.” He sniffed, rubbing at his eyes until his vision cleared. “I dunno. Maybe. I just feel like I need to sleep for a week.”“Can you?”The question caught him off guard. Vlad lowered his hands to stare at her. “Can I what?”“Can you take some time off to rest?”Vlad blinked at her. “From filing for divorce?”Dr. Lestrange gave him a wry look. “From work. After your marriage and your family, this is your biggest stress source.”Vlad continued to stare at her. Then he laughed. The idea was so ludicrous he couldn’t help it. “I can’t just take time off work.”“Why not?”“Because…” Vlad gestured emptily in the air. “I just can’t. I have too much to do.”“What happens when you go on vacation? Surely there’s someone who steps in.”Vlad opened his mouth to reply, then clamped it shut. When was the last time he’d taken a day off from work? Five, six years ago? It’d been just before his father’s illness had taken hold, forcing him to retire. And then Vlad had stepped into the void, never to return. “I… I don’t…”Dr. Lestrange paused. “What about sick days? Surely, you’ve taken sick days.”Vlad recalled all the times he’d shown up at the office with bloodshot eyes, shaking with withdrawal, or still half-cut. He shook his head mutely.“You’ve never taken time off?” Dr. Lestrange asked, her usually unreadable face showing him how shocking she thought this was. She scribbled something in the journal, then looked back up at him, her face under control again. “Why do you think that is?”“I just told you,” Vlad said defensively. “I have too much to do.”“Do you? Or do you purposefully keep your workload overwhelming so you don’t have a chance to be idle?”The silence that ensued was leaden. How many ways was Vlad inadvertently neglecting himself? Worse, how many other ways was he deliberately neglecting himself because he thought he deserved it? It’d never felt like that big of a deal before now.Yes, said the little voice in the back of his head, the small part of his latent survival instinct that’d somehow survived, and look where that’s gotten you.Vlad cleared his throat. “I suppose I could take a few days off. Just to deal with things.”“That might be prudent,” Dr. Lestrange said. “And if you find you need a few more days to yourself to rest, that’s okay, too. Everyone needs rest, Vlad. Especially when they’re healing.”“I just want it to be over,” Vlad lamented, and Dr. Lestrange gave him another one of those soul-piercing looks she was so good at.“Recovery never ends, you know that. But eventually, it changes shape, and sometimes that feels like the same thing. Now, let’s circle back to something you said earlier. I told you to do something nice for yourself, and your response was to give a gift to someone else. Why do you think you did that?”Vlad sighed. * Later, when he’d eaten and washed the city dust from his skin, Vlad found himself sitting outside again, his feet dangling in the pool. It was still light out, the sun dipping toward the horizon, but Vlad could already feel the night stretching out in front of him. Usually, he’d be texting Nathan and Ursula by now, preparing to read to them. But after everything that’d happened, it felt presumptuous to presume that would continue. A feeling which appeared to be mutual as his phone remained conspicuously silent.Ursula had texted him earlier, wishing him a good day and reminding him to create a wish list. Vlad had responded in kind, promising to get right on it. It was painful and stilted compared to the bold familiarity he’d grown accustomed to, but Vlad supposed that was only to be expected. He hadn’t so much dumped a bucket of water over their correspondence as a bucket of lava—though just how he’d avoided burning everything to ash in the process was beyond him.At a loss for what to do, Vlad flipped open Instagram on his phone, his primary means of keeping track of Riya in Steocidell. He scrolled through her feed, smiling at the personal pictures of her and Kitty inter-spaced with the professional shoots she did for work. Her most recent gig appeared to be modeling for a makeup brand, the shimmering gold powder luminescent against her dark skin. He thought Ursula might like it. Regardless of content, the top pinned comment was always from Lady Margarete: an endless babble of maternal pride and the occasional reminder to wear a sweater. Vlad rolled his eyes, though fondly. Only Lady M would be concerned about Riya being warm while living in one of the hottest places on the planet.He stared at her feed for several more moments, mentally doing the time-zone calculations. It was already late there, but Riya habitually kept late hours. Looking at her feed, she’d posted a picture of her and Kitty at the beach less than twenty minutes ago.Vlad flipped to his messages and pulled up their thread.
Are you about?
Her name flashed up immediately, trailing dots across the screen. Are you okay???? she asked.Vlad’s shoulders slumped. He needed to get better about calling her when things weren’t going to shit. I’m fine. He tapped back. I just wondered if you were free for a chat. Sorry, I know it’s late. But I am fine.He’d barely hit send on the last message when her icon lit up his screen, wanting to FaceTime. Ignoring his face on the screen, Vlad accepted the call. Riya’s face filled his screen; her mouth turned down in a tense look of concern.“Vlad!”“I’m fine,” he said, feeling a pang of remorse that he’d probably panicked her by texting so late. “I just saw you were online…”“Where are you?” she asked, peering past him. “Are you still at the office?”“No,” Vlad said, feeling another guilty stab. “I’m at home, just outside. How are you? How’s Kitty?”“We’re fine.” The camera flipped to Kitty, granting Vlad a dizzying view of their apartment. It looked like a bomb had gone off in a sequin factory.“Hello, Vladdy!” she greeted him, waving a spatula in the air. “We’re making midnight pancakes.”Vlad smiled. “Of course you are.”The screen flipped back to Riya, her expression soft with love and adoration for the tiny brunette. He hated how it dimmed when she looked back at him. “Why are you outside?” She squinted at him. “Are you in the pool?”“Sitting on the deck,” Vlad said. He flipped the camera view so she could see the vast expanse of darkening yard around him, the gentle illumination of the pool lights glaring on the screen. “As for why it’s nice out, I thought I’d enjoy it before it gets too cold.”“You’re not just saying that because she booted you out into the pool house again, are you?”Vlad grimaced. “That happened once. And no, Elizabeth isn’t home.” He bit his lip and took a steadying breath. “She’s, uh. She’s gone.”“Gone? Gone where?” Riya blinked at him.Vlad could feel her confusion from over two thousand miles away. He flipped the camera back to his face. “I mean, she’s gone.” He allowed himself a short bubble of laughter. It sounded borderline manic, even to his ears. “I told her, Riya. I told her I was done, and she left.”Riya stared at him, unmoving, then glanced off-screen to Kitty. “Kitty, midnight pancakes are going to have to wait. And you—” She jabbed a finger at the camera. “Start talking.” * “You said what?” Kitty demanded, her mouth agape in appalled delight. Beside her, Riya’s eyes were wide; her hand clamped over her mouth.Laid flat on his back on the deck, his phone held aloft, Vlad sighed and repeated himself. “I asked what bothered her more: that she wasn’t the only person in our marriage blowing another man or that I might be better at it.”“Oh my God,” Riya breathed out quietly while Kitty collapsed into scandalized cackling. “When was this?”“Thursday, last week.”“And you’re only just telling us now?” Kitty asked. “Oh my God! Vladdy!” She clutched at her sides, continuing to laugh. “She must have shat a brick. Please tell me you recorded it?”Vlad gave his sister’s girlfriend a confused look. “No. Why on earth would I even think to do that?”“Because it’s fucking hysterical!” she gasped, wiping a tear away from her eye. “I can’t believe you said that. Well done!”“Thank you.”“Are you, though?”Vlad blinked. “Am I what?”Kitty waggled her eyebrows at him. “Blowing another man?”“Ew, Kitty!” Riya gave her a hearty shove. “Gross.”“What? He’s not my brother!”Vlad rolled his eyes and let them fight. He had to admit, in retrospect, it was a Hell of a comeback. Shame it wasn’t true. God, he wished it was.The intensity of that realization shocked him, and Vlad forced himself to breathe through the sudden flood of longing that warmed his skin. He knew Elizabeth had intended it as an insult, but Vlad had never found the act degrading. Vlad had been taught from a young age that dropping to his knees was a sign of reverence—just because he’d since become an atheist didn’t make it any less true. He also hadn’t been lying when he implied being better at it. His time in reformatory school had been many things, but it’d been neither reforming nor idle, and Vlad had been resolutely popular for a while. And not because of his winning personality or charm, either.Vlad shook himself out of the debauched alleys of memory lane and focused on the all-out war happening on his screen. “Riya, please don’t smother Kitty. At least not on camera. Siblings don’t get the same testifying immunity as spouses in court. And for the record, no, I am not. I just said it to be petty.” He allowed himself a small smile. “You should have seen her face, though.”Riya gave Kitty one last bat over the head with a limp cushion and tossed it aside. Kitty reappeared in the frame, tousled but unperturbed. “Well, if someone had recorded it, we could have.”Vlad rolled his eyes again.“So, what happened after that?” Riya asked.Vlad shrugged awkwardly, the hardwood of the deck digging into his shoulder blades. “She walked out before I woke up on Friday. Took everything with her. She’s staying with her sister. Apparently.”“Apparently?”“Lady M tried calling her before I could let her know things had blown up. I gather she got an earful on my behalf.”“So, Mum knows?”Vlad nodded. “And Father.”Kitty’s smile faltered, and Riya’s visibly drained away. “I’m sorry. Was he awful about it?”“He was pretty supportive for him.” Vlad glanced up as the first spatters of rain made themselves known. “Hold on; I’m heading inside.” He rolled upright with a grunt, moving stiffly. He could have blamed it on getting old, but Vlad suspected his sedentary lifestyle had more to do with it. He should do something about that. Maybe quit the cigarettes while he was at it. Eventually. Maybe. Sometime this decade.He paused by the patio door to dry his feet off, then padded barefoot into the warmth of the living room and flopped belly down onto the couch. Using the armrest of the sectional, he propped his phone up, then winced when he saw himself on camera. It’d been hidden before when he’d been outside, but in the full light of the living room, he could see just how tired he looked. The bags under his eyes looked like bruises, and he desperately needed a haircut. He should call his stylist, Angelo, and do something about that with the time off Dr. Lestrange was making him take off.“Sorry.” He zoned back in on the conversation. “What were we talking about?”“You said our father was being suspiciously supportive of you divorcing Elizabeth,” Riya supplied. She sounded skeptical. Vlad couldn’t blame her.“I said he was supportive for him,” Vlad corrected. “That’s not the same thing as being actually supportive. I don’t think he was surprised. He had me figured out weeks ago. He must have seen me moving money around. I don’t know how. He’s not supposed to have access to any of the bank accounts.”Riya’s face twisted up in concern. “Is he that bad? Should I come home?”“Absolutely not,” Vlad said emphatically. “You got out, Riya; you’re free. You don’t need to return just because the old man is finally shuffling off the mortal coil.”Albeit painfully slow, Vlad thought.“I meant for Mum. You know she’ll be devastated when he goes.”“God knows why,” Vlad muttered.“Sometimes, people stay in unhealthy relationships they shouldn’t,” Riya said primly. Vlad flinched. Point taken. “How are you handling all of this?” she asked. “I know we were laughing earlier…”“It’s all right.” Vlad waved her off. “It was funny in the moment too.”“Really?”“Yes. Like watching a clown car hurtle off a cliff.” Kitty collapsed into gurgling giggles while Riya huffed softly. She shook her head, murmuring. “It’s good to have you back.”Vlad tilted his head. “Was I gone somewhere?”Riya bit her lip, her expression twisting painfully. Beside her, Kitty sobered and wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. When Riya spoke, there was a pained wobble in her voice. “I know you’ve always struggled with… well… everything.”Vlad snorted. “Thanks.”Riya carried on. “But for a while, it felt like you were losing. Like I was losing you. You never smile. You don’t sleep or take care of yourself. You look more and more tired every time I see you. I’m worried about you, Vlad. I have been for a while. We both are. You just seemed so…” she trailed off, drawing in a shuddering breath that made Vlad’s heart clench in his chest.Kitty glanced at the camera, her expression harrowingly somber for someone so delightfully silly. “Defeated,” she said, finishing Riya’s sentence for her. “Like you’d given up.”Vlad swallowed the hard lump that’d formed in his throat. As bleak as things were inside his head, he’d thought he was at least hiding it. Apparently not. “I’m sorry,” he said when he could speak. “I never meant to worry you. Either of you.”Riya offered him a small, sad smile. “We love you; worrying about you is unavoidable.”“I love you too, both of you,” Vlad murmured. He couldn’t help but recall the first few months after she’d left. His heart had been in his mouth the entire time, thudding out an anxious rhythm of equal parts pride, envy, and a fraternal sense of panic. It’d helped to know that Kitty was with her—silly as she could be, she had a good head on her shoulders and would always take care of Riya. But Vlad knew deep down he’d never be able to stop worrying about his baby sister.Riya was right; worry was an inevitability of love.The silence hung on just long enough to become awkward, then Kitty asked, “So, what else is new with you?”Vlad arched an eyebrow at her. “You mean other than blowing up my marriage?”“Yeah!”Vlad thought about it. “I started therapy.”“What?” Riya demanded, the last vestiges of her worry replaced by a look of pure elation. “That’s awesome! Was it the person I recommended?”“No, sorry.” Vlad shook his head. “Someone my sponsor suggested.”“Don’t apologize! I’m just glad you’re getting help. How is it going?”Vlad grimaced. “Hard. She gave me homework, but I already failed it.”“You can’t fail therapy, Vlad.”“And yet.” Vlad gestured to himself. “Here I am.”“What did she want you to do?”He sighed and folded his arms, resting his chin on the back of his palms. “She wanted me to do something nice for myself, but I couldn’t think of anything. So, I did something nice for Nate and Sue instead.”And hadn’t that led to an interesting conversation about what it meant to be a people-pleaser and where the impulse came from, which was a chronic lack of self-worth, apparently. Vlad hadn’t dared to tell her he thought it might also be a kink, at least regarding the rapport he’d built with Ursula. He was still grappling with the idea of having kinks in the first place. He wanted to mull it over some more before Dr. Lestrange linked it back to never having enough attention as a child or some other shit he’d rather not think about at the minute.Kitty huffed, and Riya shook her head, the motion causing the dark, tight coils of her hair to bounce. “That is classic you.”“Is it?”“Yes. Do you remember when I was little, and you’d take me out for ice cream whenever you were feeling down?”“Vaguely,” Vlad replied.“Well, you would, and then you’d never order anything for yourself.”“Hang on,” Vlad said, his eyes narrowing as he dredged through his memories. He hated how hazy those years of her life were. “I distinctly remember eating ice cream on numerous occasions.”“Yes. Because I’d make you share with me. I’d order the biggest sundae on the menu, then complain it was too big, so you’d help me finish it.”“Huh,” Vlad said. “That’s depressing.”“Yes, it is. You really need to learn to do nice things for yourself, Vlad.”“I meant being out-guiled by a nine-year-old,” he replied, “but sure, that too.”Riya shook her head. “So, what did you give them? Or is it something sexy I don’t want to hear about?”Kitty leaned forward. “More importantly, is it something I’d want to hear about.” Riya smacked her with another pillow.Vlad snorted, biting his thumbnail to avoid reaching for his cigarettes on the coffee table. He wasn’t sure why he was nervous about telling her. “I gave them a book.”“A book?” Kitty wrinkled her nose. “That’s it?”“Yep.”“What book?” she persisted.Vlad swallowed. “Dracula.”Riya’s brow creased into a frown. “Your favorite book in high school?”“It’s still my favorite book,” Vlad replied. “But yes, that one. It’s sort of a… a thing between us.” The pair exchanged glances, then turned as one to look at him again, arching a brow each at the camera. Vlad sighed. They really weren’t going to let him get away with being vague about this one. “It came up in passing that Ursula had never read the book before. She’s seen all the movies but never read it. I’ve been reading it to them before bed every other night.”“Awwww!” Kitty clasped her hands to her chest. “And they say romance is dead.”Vlad laughed, his cheeks turning pink. “Hey, don’t knock it.”“I’m not! I think it’s adorable. But wait, if you’re reading it to them, why did you send them the book?”Vlad cleared his throat. “They were trying to get me to read to them. Sort of, play-pestering. I commented that if they had their own copy of the book, they could read it on their own. But that’s apparently not the appeal of the exercise.”“No, somehow I don’t think it is,” Riya said wryly.“Ursula was quite adamant she wanted my version of the story.” Vlad hesitated, trying to sound as casual as possible. “So, I sent it to them.”Kitty looked confused, but Vlad saw the moment Riya realized what he was saying. “Wait, you sent them… Vlad. Did you send them your book? The special one you bought after…” she trailed off, faltering.Vlad rolled his eyes fondly at her. “It’s all right, Riya. You can say ‘juvenile rehab.’”“But you love that book!” she proclaimed. “It was all you read for a year! I think you helped teach me to read from it!”“Yes,” he said, reasonably, “and it’s been sitting in a trunk in the attic, moldering away for nearly two decades. It’s in far better hands now, being read and enjoyed. Which is the purpose of a book.”Riya stared at him, her mouth agape. “You love them,” she said at last.Vlad choked on his tongue.“What? Don’t be absurd—”“Am I?” Riya countered, staring him down. “I know you, Vlad. Getting down on one knee would have been more subtle.”A fresh wave of heat rushed to his cheeks. It was so visible on camera that even his ears turned pink. Vlad cleared his throat, unable to maintain eye contact. “I am fond of them,” he admitted, “but also grateful. You’re right, Riya. I was losing the battle with myself. Hell, I think I was probably losing the war until I met them; I just didn’t realize it yet. Meeting them helped me. They reminded me that I’m both capable of happiness and making others happy too. However indirectly, they pushed me off the path of another relapse, and I’ll be honest… I don’t think I could have survived another one.” He cleared his throat again, blinking rapidly. “So, do I love them for that?” Vlad shrugged, his heart doing backflips in his chest at using the L-word. “Perhaps. Am I in love with them? That’s harder to answer. I’m not even sure I know what that means. I think I was infatuated with the idea of them, and that’s not healthy either. But we’re working on that.”“You and your therapist?” Kitty asked softly, her dark eyes brimming with emotion.Vlad nodded. “Yes, I suppose that would also be a good idea.”“Wait.” Riya swiped at her eyes, sniffing loudly. “If you didn’t mean in therapy…”“I meant together. The three of us.” Vlad bit his lip, unable to curtail the ridiculous grin that threatened to split over his face. “We, uh, we’ve altered our agreement.”Riya narrowed her eyes at him. “Altered it? Altered it how? Why are you smiling like that? Did something happen? Oh my God! Something happened! Do I need to sit down? I’m going to stand up so I can sit down again. Wait!” Vlad’s view on the camera pitched violently as Riya hopped up and down. “Do I even want to know? Or is it something I’ll never be able to unhear if you tell me?”Vlad laughed at her excitement. “No, nothing like that. I told them about everything that’s going on. About Elizabeth. They weren’t happy, but they let me explain. And I told them about… about being an addict.”“And how did that go?” Riya asked. “I’m assuming well, considering you’re smiling.”Vlad nodded, blinking back the sudden prickle of tears behind his eyes. “Good. They were supportive. More so than I deserve.”“I refute that,” Kitty said quietly, and Vlad was forced to blink rapidly again.He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I thought they’d run a mile. But they want to start over again. Without the sugaring element. Get to know each other properly.”“So…” Riya twirled a finger in the air. “Like a relationship?”Vlad opened his mouth, unsure how to answer. Ursula had alluded to romantic inclinations, but Nathan had stated a preference to become friends instead. Vlad wasn’t sure where that left them. “We’re taking things slowly. I think we’re going to try being friends for a bit. At least until I settle things with Elizabeth.”Riya hummed. “That’s smart. When are you starting all that?”Vlad let his head rest against the couch cushion. “Already in motion. I hired a divorce attorney this morning.”“All right, Vladdy!” Kitty clapped her hands together. “When you decide to move, you don’t fuck around!”“Good.” Riya’s expression hardened; the set of her jaw grim. “Get the boot in before she does.”Vlad groaned. “That’s what the lawyer said. I don’t even know if she thinks we’re over. She might think this is another fight, and she just has to wait it out.”In which case, getting served with divorce papers in the next week would be a nasty shock. Vlad wondered if he should warn her.“Don’t,” Riya warned.“Don’t what?”“You’re worried about hurting her; I can see it on your face.”Vlad opened his mouth. “I just…”“No, Vlad. Whatever you’re about to say, the answer is no. You don’t owe her anything. Least of all, your concern.”“But I just…”Riya sighed. “Vlad. Listen to me. She’s a monster. I know you think you deserve whatever she did, but you don’t. Elizabeth feeds on misery. And she’s put a lot of effort into ensuring you were always as miserable as possible. I used to watch her do it. I can’t imagine what she felt bold enough to do in private.”Vlad swallowed. “I didn’t know anyone noticed…”Riya smiled sadly. “Honestly, I’m not sure anyone else did. Our family dynamic isn’t exactly healthy…”He snorted, thinking back to the giant notepad in Dr. Lestrange’s office. “You can say that again. I just… I can’t help it. I feel responsible for her. Like I made her do all those things.”After all, Vlad thought, living with him couldn’t be easy.Loving him even less so.“You didn’t. She made her own choices. And from what I saw, she only ever chose to be cruel.”“You never liked her, did you?” Vlad asked. “What was it?”Riya visibly hesitated before replying. “Do you remember the first time you brought her up to the cabin for Spring break? When you wanted her to meet all of us?”Vlad nodded, not wanting to admit how vague those memories were. They’d been in college, and he’d been high a lot of the time. But he thought he remembered the visit she meant.Riya carried on. “Everyone loved her; I remember Mum saying how sweet she was. But then, after lunch, you sat on the floor to play with me and…” She hesitated again. “And I just remember this look she gave me. Like she hated me.”Vlad felt an icy chill run down his spine. “I don’t remember,” he said numbly.Elizabeth could be cruel with both words and silence—no one knew that better than him. But surely, he would have noticed her doing it to Riya. Wouldn’t he?”“You had your back to her; you wouldn’t have seen. And she smiled whenever you looked around and pretended to be nice and ask me questions. But the second you weren’t looking, that look would come back. It was like she couldn’t stand you were paying attention to me and not her. I thought she was going to walk me into the woods and leave me there.”Vlad reached for his phone, his knuckles turning white. It was the closest he could get to hug her. “I’m sorry, Riya. If I’d known…”“I know.”“Please tell me you know I’d never let anything happen to you.”“I know that too.” She smiled softly. “I’ve always known my big brother loved me. Even when he was too sick to love himself. You have a big heart, Vlad. You just need to find some space in there for yourself as well. And you can start making space by carving her out. Promise me, Vlad, don’t give her another inch. Please. If you can’t do it for yourself, do it for the people who love you. We can’t keep watching her hurt you. I can’t.”Vlad swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. “I promise.”“Good.” Riya nodded firmly. She wiped at her eyes and gave a short shake of laughter. “Right, enough of that. Tell me something nice you’re going to do for yourself.”Vlad thought about it. “Well, my therapist wants me to take a few days off while I sort things out. Take some time to regroup, catch my breath and ‘get in touch with myself.’ All that jazz.”“But you’re not going to because?” Kitty prompted, twirling her hand in the air when he trailed off.“Oh no, I’m going to,” Vlad said. “She’s right. I’m dead on my feet. I’m taking next week off.”Riya looked shocked. “A week, like, a whole-ass week? You?”Vlad shrugged. “Sure. I’m owed time.”“But you never take time off. You didn’t even take a week when Dad got sick.”“Well,” Vlad shrugged. “Maybe now I’ll start.”“Vlad Aleksi Blutstein,” she said, full naming him, a bright smile cracking over her face. “Look at you, taking care of yourself.”He smiled back. “Well, it turns out someone has to. Might as well be me.”“So, what will you do with your time off?”Vlad laughed. “Do you know, I haven’t the slightest idea.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“And you’re sure you’ve got everything?” Vlad asked for the umpteenth time since Swithin entered his office and told him it was time to go home.“Yes, sir,” his PA replied in a tone that indicated that if Vlad asked one more time, the mild-mannered man would riot.He’d worked for Vlad’s father for decades before Vlad arrived and had proven himself to be both infallible and indispensable over the years. But after five years of guiding the company with a white-knuckled grip, Vlad was finding it harder than he’d expected to hand over the reins to even these most capable hands.“It is only for a week, sir,” Swithin reminded him. He pointedly clicked off Vlad’s desk lamp as he maneuvered around the desk. “If we require anything, we will email you.”“Or call,” Vlad reminded him.“Or call,” the older man conceded. He stepped into Vlad’s personal space, corralling him out of his chair and toward the door where Vlad’s briefcase was waiting. Vlad hadn’t even seen the other man move it.“How did you—”“Enjoy your week off, sir. You’ve earned it.”The door to Vlad’s office clicked shut in his face. He stared at it. He wondered if he should object to being so thoroughly handled but decided against it. Evidently, Vlad wasn’t the only one desperate for him to take a vacation.Vlad was exiting the elevator that led into the parking lot when his phone chimed in his pocket. Pulling it out, he felt a tiny jolt of excitement at seeing Nathan’s name flash over the screen. Thumbing the lock open, he read the message.
Any plans this weekend?
Vlad paused mid-stride, stopping to answer. I have brunch with my family tomorrow. After that, not really.Nathan’s reply popped up. That was a quick reply. For you. :pVlad snorted and resumed walking toward his car. He tossed his briefcase into the backseat and waited until he was buckled up before replying. Your timing was impeccable. I just left the office. What’s up?
Not much, just wondered if you fancied another movie night?
Vlad bit his lip, unable to curtail the ridiculous smile spreading over his face. He hadn’t dared to hope for this kind of thing so soon. Vlad wondered if they were missing him as much as he was them. It was a nice thought. He decided not to dissuade himself that it was true.
I would like that. Same time as usual?
Sounds good. Oh, one more thing.
Yes.
Nathan’s reply came back short and emphatic. Make. A. Wish. List.Vlad winced. He hadn’t meant to keep putting it off. It’d just kept falling by the wayside of everything else that needed to get done. Sorry, he replied, meaning it. It’s been a hectic week. I’ll do it tonight. Promise.Nathan liked the reply, sending a little heart flashing over Vlad’s screen before falling silent. Vlad stared at it for a moment, pressing his finger over it. Then, realizing he was being unconscionably sentimental, even for him, he plugged his phone into the charger and set off home.It was still surreal most nights to come home to the overwhelming emptiness of the house. Vlad couldn’t fathom why. He’d been coming home to an empty house for years. It felt different now, though. Like something was missing other than Elizabeth herself.There was, he realized, a lack of anticipation.Usually, he’d spend the drive home psyching himself up, bracing himself for when Elizabeth did come home and what that would mean. There was no such expectation now. Not since he’d logged into Facebook and seen she’d moved yet again and was down on the coast with the Carlisles enjoying a ‘mini-vacay’ as she’d put it. Vlad wondered if Emily and Jeremy knew the truth. He wondered what they would think if they did. Were they all laughing about it together? Or was Elizabeth pretending everything would blow over if she left him to stew long enough? Either way, Vlad didn’t care just so long as she stayed gone.Of course, there was always the chance she might return unexpectedly, and some nights Vlad sat in the driveway gripping the steering wheel, worried he’d open the garage to find her Porsche there. It didn’t matter if he checked Facebook—her posts and photos obligingly frequent—on his phone to confirm she was still on the boat. Something inside him worried it was a ruse, and he’d walk in to find her waiting for him. It was anxiety-inducing enough that some nights Vlad had to pull out of the driveway and drive around the block several times before he could bring himself to open the front door. Dr. Lestrange told him such thoughts were normal. It was another trauma response; his brain spinning through increasingly unlikely scenarios to fill the void where the constant stress had been. She’d given him some coping strategies to help break the panic cycle, but so far, the breathing exercise did little to help. Though Vlad suspected you weren’t supposed to chain smoke while doing them.Tonight was better, though; he only deliberated for several moments before pulling into the garage and letting himself into the house properly. Inside, Vlad threw his keys down on the nearest kitchen counter and dropped his briefcase by the door. He groaned and scrubbed weary hands over his face. He didn’t think this often, but thank God it was Friday. His gaze turned longingly to the couch in the adjacent family room. The urge to faceplant onto it and never move again was overwhelming, but so was the need to eat. And shower. And put his suits out for the dry cleaner to pick up in the morning. It gave him a giddy, almost light-headed thrill to know he wouldn’t need to wear a suit for an entire week. Although perhaps that was the hunger. When did he last eat? Noon? Eleven? It was nine o’clock now. He was terrible at taking care of himself. But even knowing he needed to eat, the thought of cooking filled him with a newfound sense of bone weariness that threatened to flatten him to the floor. It only worsened when he realized he’d need to empty the dishwasher first.
Too much, too much, not worth it…
Seeking a distraction, Vlad’s eyes skipped to his laptop, which sat on the kitchen island. He’d left it there this morning, the screen black from inactivity. He moved toward it, waking the screen to find Nathan and Ursula’s wish list waiting for him. It was glaringly empty, which Vlad suspected would not change until he created one of his own. But it was the row of links saved to the top of his browser that drew his attention now. He’d been amassing an extensive collection of takeout services across the city ever since their first movie night together. Vlad bit his lip, eyeing them.It felt wrong to order just for himself. Not necessarily selfish, but more like he was cheating at being an adult—like if he just gritted his teeth and forced himself to do the dishes and cook for himself, he’d be a proper adult capable of holding his life together. So far, it was a tactic that had yet to work. What had Dr. Lestrange called it? Executive dysfunction? Was that what this was? Too many tasks and not enough motivation. Or dopamine, or… something. He’d need to reread the printout she’d given him. Either way, it was a bitch, and Vlad wished it would go away. But if this was another manifestation of this executive dysregulation… dysfunction… thing—then surely it wasn’t cheating to take the easy way out and order his food. It was a workaround that allowed him to self-care, and wasn’t that being a better adult than not taking care of himself?“Fuck it,” Vlad muttered, pulling up the first menu to hand and ordering food before he could talk himself out of it. He ordered enough food to have leftovers tomorrow, hoping he’d feel up to cooking for himself by then. And if he wasn’t, well, what the Hell. He was on vacation; he could enjoy being lazy.Food ordered, he reached up to remove his tie with one hand, the other going to the top of the laptop lid to close it. And then he remembered. He’d promised Nathan he’d make a wish light tonight, hadn’t he? The thought made his skin prickle, a hot, uncomfortable feeling rising in his chest. Vlad had always preferred gift-giving to receiving, even as a child. Gifts came with conditions—at least any gift given by his parents. Gifts for other people didn’t. They were things he could give freely and often. They were physical manifestations of all the things Vlad struggled to express with words. Love, regard, gratitude. All the things he’d learned to guard against from a young age for fear of being rejected. After all, people were less likely to reject physical gifts. Hearts, he’d learned, were so much more readily discarded.This partly made the position Ursula had put him in so hard. Not only were they rejecting gifts in favor of him, but they were also strong-arming him into accepting gifts from them. Vlad didn’t think he’d ever wrap his head around it, but a promise was a promise. And he’d promised Nathan he’d do it tonight. No more excuses.Feeling deeply uncomfortable, Vlad navigated back to his Amazon account and clicked through the steps to set up a wish list. He was still… disappointed about ending their sugaring arrangement. He knew and understood why they’d asked to end it and that they were (hopefully) building something better. But there was no denying that Vlad had found that aspect of their arrangement profoundly satisfying on a visceral level. It had been sheer reckless desire that had driven him to plead to keep their wish list—a desperate need to maintain some small part of the primal thrill he’d discovered within himself. And if the price of maintaining that privilege was allowing them to gift him things in return, then Vlad would pay it. There was just one problem.He did not know what to ask for.“Ugh.” He rubbed his eyes. Why was this so hard? It didn’t have to be something important. It just needed to be something. Part of him, the cowardly part, wanted to leave the wish list blank. After all, he’d done what he’d said he’d do. He’d created the wish list, but he’d said nothing about adding to it. Though Vlad suspected that wouldn’t fly with Nathan. He stared at the blinking search bar, then typed a random thought in. To his surprise, the item still existed and was also reasonably cheap. Well, reasonable for an imported confection. Vlad hesitated, then clicked ‘add to the list.’ There, he’d done it! He’d made a list and added something to it, just like he said he would.And it’d only taken him the better part of twenty minutes.Abruptly, Vlad realized that his food would be here soon, and he was still wearing his work suit. Closing the lid of his laptop, Vlad scarpered up the stairs to shower and change into his pajamas. If he was going to start the week off lazy, then he was damn well going to be comfortable about it. * Just after ten, Nathan’s phone vibrated facedown across the kitchen table in front of him.“Phone!” Ursula called over her shoulder, able to hear it even over the din she was making behind him at the stove.“Got it,” Nathan replied. He started at his screen for several more seconds as he finished proofreading the essay he was working on. When he was satisfied, he hit save. Then hit it again before reaching for his phone. He’d expected a text but was instead greeted by an email notification that made a broad grin split over his face. “Hey,” he called. “C’mere a sec.”“I’m a little busy, love,” Ursula replied, her point punctuated by a loud clang as she dropped a pan into the sink.Nathan twisted around in his chair to look at her. They’d eaten dinner late, which wasn’t unusual for them. But while they’d typically leave the dishes to soak overnight, a text from their building manager letting them know he’d be round first thing in the morning had forced them into a flurry of activity. Nathan had done his part: cleaning the bedroom and bathroom and getting most of the laundry done before the utility room in the basement closed for the night. Ursula had opted to tackle their main living space, including the kitchen, which apparently meant taking everything apart and scrubbing it to within an inch of its life. Not even the yellowed grout of the tiled backsplash had been spared. The apartment was already cleaner than the first day they’d moved in, but Nathan knew her zealousness was less about making the space presentable but was fueled by anxiety.They’d been burned thrice in as many years by shitty landlords looking for any excuse to increase rent or force them out. The last place they’d lived hadn’t even given them a legal warning before selling the property from under them, forcing them to find a new place to live in less than a month. Nathan was doing his utmost to remain calm about the unexpected visit, though he also feared another similar situation would arise. Apartment buildings around them were being bought and torn down left, right and center. Some of them rightfully so, considering the state they were in. But that didn’t solve the problem of what happened to the people who lived in them, having nowhere else to go. Sure, new luxury apartment complexes were springing up everywhere, but few could be considered affordable. It was enough to make his blood boil. But there were times to be angry and worried, and there were other times when you needed a reprieve from reality. And looking at the tense line of Ursula’s shoulders and the red-raw skin of her hands, now was the perfect moment for a light distraction.“Hey,” he said again more firmly, and this time Ursula turned, her expression of annoyance transforming into one of piqued curiosity.“What?” she asked, throwing the sponge she’d been using into the sink and wiping her hands on her skirt. “Why are you smiling like that?”Nathan held up his phone. “Guess who made a wish list?”It would have been funny how quickly Ursula’s remaining ire at being interrupted vanished to be replaced by giddy excitement if it also hadn’t been so stinking cute. “He did?” she squealed, bouncing over the short distance between them and trying to take his phone away. Nathan leaned back, holding it up out of her reach.“Ah-ah,” he admonished. “No grabby hands.”“Give me the phone,” she persisted, attempting to climb over him and banging her hip off the side of the table. “Ow!”Nathan made a low, sympathetic noise and pressed his hand over the injured spot, rubbing it better. “See, this is why you ask for things nicely and don’t use me for a personal jungle gym.”Ursula gave him an exaggerated pout, letting him know she wasn’t really hurt. “But you’re so much fun to climb.”Nathan snorted and shook his head. Pushing back in his chair, he pulled Ursula into his lap and relinquished hold of his phone into her eager grasp. Settling against him, Ursula turned to look at him over her shoulder, her finger hovering over the accept button. Nathan nodded, securing his chin over her shoulder as they both watched with interest to see what Mister V had (finally!) added to his wish list. It was predictably spartan, a single item amidst a sea of empty white space. But to Nathan’s surprise, it looked like candy.“Huh.” Ursula tilted her head as she clicked the item, taking them to the product page. “I didn’t figure him to have a sweet tooth.”“Me either,” Nathan murmured, squinting as he tried to read the description. “A taste of Old Blutveria. Ginger snap cookies made with eighty percent salted dark chocolate? And fire ginger? What the Hell kind of masochistic cookie is this?”Ursula cackled at his incredulity, flipping through the product images with interest. “A very dark and rich one, from the looks of it. We were right, though. He doesn’t like sweet things; he likes sharp and heat. Interesting. I bet it’d go well with coffee.”Nathan wrinkled his nose. He couldn’t think of anything worse than salted dark chocolate, but pairing it with coffee came close. It probably didn’t help that he didn’t like coffee either. Bitter things made his mouth burn, and not in a good way. Every time he tried to drink coffee, thinking that maybe things would be different this time, it left him feeling betrayed that something which smelled so good could taste so awful. He was like one of those puppies on YouTube being made to lick lemon slices for the first time: confused, affronted, and surprised every time. But for all he turned his nose up at this supposed treat, Ursula was right. It offered an interesting glimpse into Mister V’s preferences. And, perhaps, that odd tinge of an accent that sometimes slipped past on his tongue. “He’s from Blutveria,” Nathan said, watching as Nathan navigated back to the wish list and added the torture cookies to their cart. “Or his family was.”“Certainly seems that way,” Ursula agreed. “Would explain the name too. Vlad.”Nathan pressed a kiss to her exposed shoulder, humming thoughtfully. “I suppose we should have expected him only to add one thing.”“Baby stems,” Ursula reminded him. She tapped out a brief message in the gift section. “I don’t think he’s used to asking for things. Who knows, maybe with some gentle nudging, he’ll add two things next time.”Nathan snorted and pressed another kiss to her shoulder. Truthfully, he would have liked to see more added to the list now. They’d spent so long wondering who Mister V was, and any small inkling into his true nature was welcome. But there was also another part of him that wanted to return the other man’s generosity. Not out of obligation, but because he suspected the other man could use a little spoiling. He’d likely balk at the notion, Nathan thought, given how averse he’d been to the idea of a wish list, to begin with. But that didn’t remove the urge nor dampen the inordinately warm feeling that washed over him when Ursula hit send on the other, sending them to the checkout page, informing them that Mister V would soon receive their gift.It wasn’t quite the same high he got from doling out praise kink or the soul-gratifying contentment of aftercare, but it was comparable. Or perhaps that was just the weight of Ursula in his lap and how she kept shifting against him. They were both sweaty from cleaning, but he could still detect the faint aroma of her perfume: sweet amber and vanilla mingling with the soft warmth of her natural scent. Nathan could never get enough of it. Nuzzling against her, he inhaled deeply.“Ew, don’t.” Ursula elbowed him in the ribs.“Don’t what?” Nathan asked, mouthing up the exposed line of her neck.Ursula squirmed in his lap, doing little to deter his interest. “I’m all gross!”“That’s a matter of opinion,” Nathan murmured, grazing his teeth over the shell of her ear, grinning at the shuddering gasp it evoked.However, any further ear nibbling was arrested when Ursula twisted around in his lap, her golden-brown eyes narrowing with suspicion. “Are you… hard from buying Mister V a gift?”“No,” Nathan said a little too quickly, the tips of his ears burning red. “What? I… what? No.”“No?” Ursula arched an eyebrow at him. “Because from where I’m sitting, it’s that, or you’ve developed a thing for Lemon Pledge.”She wriggled pointedly, and Nathan sucked down air, his hands moving to her hips. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to hold her still or pull her closer. When he could form words again, he cleared his throat and met her gaze sheepishly. “I, uh, may—may—have a better grasp of what Mister V gets out of this sort of thing.” Ursula held his gaze. “You don’t get off on buying me things. Or do you?”Nathan glanced away, face still burning. He didn’t have the heart to point out that in the three years they’d been living together, they hadn’t had any money to buy each other anything. At least, nothing Nathan would consider making a thing about. Although in hindsight, perhaps that was the wrong attitude to have. If you put the right indulgent spin on it, money and expense didn’t need to be a factor. Kink, like most things, was about the mindset. The right frame of mind could carry you further than all the expensive tools and toys. It irked him to think he’d been missing out on this sort of soft play all this time. “I am re-evaluating my stance on gift-giving as a love language,” he said, still not meeting her eye.Ursula hummed thoughtfully. “Well, I’m not objecting to your new revelation.” She shifted against him again, and Nathan groaned. “But we still have an apartment to clean.”Nathan suppressed a sigh. “Sue, love, look around.” He gestured to their living space. “The apartment is clean. It’s cleaner than clean. If we clean it any further, we won’t be able to breathe from fumes. And it’s not the Lemon Pledge giving me a hard-on right now.”Ursula looked around their spotless apartment. “Yeah, I guess we’re kind of done.” She wrinkled her freckled nose. “But I still feel gross, so unless you’re willing to wait for me to shower…”Nathan leaned forward, brushing his nose against hers and enticing her into a kiss. “Last I checked, there was room enough for two in there.”Ursula returned the kiss but poked him sternly in the ribs. “You don’t have shower sex. That’s how you slip and die. You know this.”Nathan snorted. No, shower sex was not the best idea for anyone, and there was no way someone of his size could have sex in their shower, even if he wanted to. There was barely enough room for him to stand up and wash his hair, let alone the slippery acrobatics required for shower sex. But the bath was more than generous. A corner unit that could fit two people, three if you put your mind to it. It was the reason they’d taken the apartment.“I was thinking more like a nice relaxing bath, maybe light some candles, break out the scented oils.” He trailed his hand up the strong arch of her spine, his fingers playing with the loose curls of hair that had escaped her braid. “Maybe ask if you wanted help washing your hair…”Ursula turned back to face him and raised an eyebrow at him again, her smile crooked slyly. “Well, someone’s in their dom-space.”Nathan shrugged, meeting her gaze directly. There was no point denying it. “Sometimes, I like a little aftercare as foreplay.”He was a soft dom at heart. Whether that meant showering someone with praise and affection or making them come so many times they cried, Nathan enjoyed caring for people. And while Ursula’s tendency toward bratting pushed him toward the stricter, more disciplinarian aspects of domination, sometimes it was just nice to be intimate without the expectation of physical gratification. Now would not be one of those times—Nathan was far too hard and wired for that, and he could feel the answering pull of tension in Ursula’s body—but that didn’t mean they couldn’t take their time and savor the moment for all it was worth.After all, who knew when they might get another chance depending on how things went tomorrow?A conclusion Ursula came to as well. “All right, come on you.” She slipped free from his lap, tugging his hand. “But you’re re-cleaning the tub in the morning.”“Yes, ma’am,” Nathan replied, rocking up onto his feet and following after her.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“I’m sorry,” Fiddildy said again, his old face twisting with regret. “I just thought it best to tell everyone as soon as possible.”Sat across from him at the kitchen table, Ursula buried her face in her hands. “How long do we have?”“Ninety days,” the building manager replied. His nose wrinkled up as though he’d just smelled something rotten. “Old Twoforths told me not to say anything, but the law is the law! And ninety days’ notice is proper. You can’t just boot tenants out without fair warning; you just can’t.!”You can, Ursula thought, provided no one cared about them. And no one gave a fuck about what happened to the people who lived in this part of the city. She glanced at Nathan. His expression was predictably stony; his mouth set into a thin, unhappy line. This was the fourth home they’d lost in under five years. It was beginning to feel like a curse.It’s me, she thought. I’m the curse.Ursula had never had a permanent home. She’d bounced around the foster system until she aged out—passed between families like a bad penny no one wanted to keep. It wasn’t until she’d struck out on her own that she’d made a place of her own, and then she’d met Nathan, and the feeling of home gained another meaning. A sense of comfort and security that had nothing to do with four walls and a roof. But that didn’t make being forced to move again any less unpleasant.I bet you regret leaving home to be with me, said the small, awful voice that forever lurked in the back of her mind. I bet you’re sorry you cut ties with your family for me. I bet you wish you could take it all back. I bet you wish you could go home. I couldn’t blame you. I’d understand if you went…Beside her, Nathan sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Thank you for telling us,” he said to Fiddildy, fixing the older man with a weary but sincere smile. “It’ll let us get a head start on getting out of here. I hope you don’t get in trouble for telling us.”“With Twoforths?” Fiddildy guffawed, making it clear what he thought of the landlord. “Fuck ’em. This is my home, too. He’d have turned me out without so much as a by your leave if I didn’t run the buildings for him. I’ve been here most of my life, and I know this place like the back of my hand. Some of the tenants, too.” He shook his head. “It isn’t right. The least I can do is to do right by the tenants.” Fiddildy hesitated, then reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a blank envelope. “Don’t cash it yet, but here’s your security deposit. Use it to put down a deposit somewhere else, and if you need a reference—” He tapped the envelope. “—my number’s in there too. My real one, not the office one.”Ursula and Nathan exchanged started looks. “Are you sure?” Ursula asked.“Fiddildy waved her off. “Yea, o’ course. You’re good kids. Happy to put in a good word for you.”“I meant about the check!” Ursula exclaimed, her fingers twitching possessively toward the envelope. “I didn’t think you could do that.”“Landlords aren’t supposed to turn people out without so much as a by your leave neither.” Fiddildy sniffed. “But that’s not stopping them. I know old Twoforths too. He’d weasel out of giving it back to you. Don’t worry about me, though.” He grinned suddenly. “I’m handing in my notice. By the time he finds out, I’ll be sunning it up in Steocidell. Got family out that way. I might as well get some sun in these old bones and enjoy my retirement. But uh, you didn’t hear that from me, right?”“Hear what?” Nathan asked innocently. Fiddildy snorted.“Thank you again, Mr. Fiddildy,” Ursula said, standing up as the old man made to leave. “You’re a good man.”The building manager turned, his face softening as he looked at her. “Nah, lass, but you’re kind to say so. Take care, and uh, sorry about never getting around to fixing the oven. Or the door. Or the window, or the air conditioning. Not that it matters now.” He patted the door jamb on his way out. “Not when this’ll all be rubble soon.”Ursula closed the door behind him and turned to face Nathan. He was still sitting where she’d left him; the envelope held loosely in his hands. “Well,” he said, “that’s that.”“Yeah,” Ursula said.Her face must have betrayed the overwhelming maw of despair at her core because Nathan set the check down and held his arms wide. “Hey, come here.” Ursula hesitated, then fell gratefully into his arms. “It’ll be all right,” he murmured against her hair. “We’ll be all right.”Ursula shook her head, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. She knew crying was silly, but that didn’t stop her eyes from burning. “It’s not fair,” she whined, her voice trembling on the verge of tears. “It’s just not fair.”“I know,” Nathan soothed.“Every time we think we’ve found somewhere, something like this happens.”“I know.”“And it’s not fair!”“I know,” Nathan said again, kissing the top of her head. “But we’ll be fine. We’re always fine.”Ursula nodded mutely. When she no longer felt like she was going to cry, she said, “At least Fiddildy was kind enough to give us warning.”“And a check,” Nathan added.“And a check,” Ursula agreed. Wriggling in his arms, she twisted until she could pick the envelope up. A check for eight hundred dollars was inside, along with a business card with a scribbled phone number on the back. Thank goodness for minor acts of kindness and rebellion, she thought. “I suppose we should start looking for new digs,” she said.“Probably a good idea,” Nathan agreed. He reached around her, pulling his laptop toward them. Lifting the lid, the screen revealed several apartment listings on his browser.Ursula stared at them. “You were preparing…”“I couldn’t sleep last night,” Nathan said, “and I had a feeling we might need to. The way buildings have been vanishing around us; lately, I thought it couldn’t hurt to look.”Ursula swiped at her eyes and leaned forward. “Right. What are our options?” If Nathan was going to be stalwart and productive about this, so would she.“Well, if we win the lottery between now and next weekend, I thought we could look into this place.” Nathan flipped the page to a listing so astronomically out of their price range that it was in another galaxy. The bleak white walls and austere marble lines scored a mark over Ursula’s cluttered, maximalist soul.“Ew, no. And you know that’s not funny. I’m allergic to minimalism. Besides, look at that pool. It’s shaped like a cock.”Nathan sighed dramatically. “There goes my chance to say I’m literally swimming in dick.” Ursula giggled, both hating and loving him for being able to make her laugh at a moment like this. “Here, what about this one?”He flipped to another listing. It was an old gothic recreation on the south side of town, closer to the suburbs. The shutters were painted purple, and the door a bright, lurid green. It looked haunted. Ursula loved it immediately. “Oh, that’s pretty.”“It is,” Nathan agreed, scrolling through the pictures. “Upper floor, two bedrooms, full bathroom, kitchen, south-facing views. Lots of light…”“The rent isn’t bad either, for the location, but…” Ursula bit her lip. “There’s no way we could afford that long term.” Not without the money they’d been getting from Mister V.“Actually, I did the numbers,” Nathan said, pulling up a spreadsheet. “And we could afford it if we used the money we have set aside. The check from Fiddildy would give us the deposit, too. We’d have enough for about six months, and if I went full time at the gym and maybe picked up some extra shifts at the club with you on weekends, we could make it work.”Ursula stared at the numbers in front of her. She wasn’t very good at budgeting or numbers, but she knew something was fuzzy about it. “And when exactly are you planning to sleep and study between all this?” she asked. When Nathan didn’t reply, she turned to look at him. “Nathan?”“I was thinking I might take a break…”“Nathan! No!” Ursula slid free of his lap, whirling to look at him. “We talked about this!”Nathan held his hands up. “And now we’re talking about it again. Look, school is stressing me out enough as it is. I’m barely keeping up with my classes. I don’t even know if this is what I want.” He gestured to his laptop and the pile of books on the table. “I’m not like you, Sue. I don’t enjoy academia. My brain feels like it’s melting just trying to keep up with the reading. I’m not smart enough for this.”“You’re plenty smart!” Ursula protested, propping her hands on her hips. “That’s your parents talking. I keep telling you; you can do anything you want.”“And I’m telling you, I’m not sure I want this.” Nathan smiled forlornly. “I know the timing’s awful; I know that. We’ve just had so much going on, I didn’t know how to bring it up. But when Fiddildy texted last night, I had a hunch we might have to move again?” He shrugged. “It helped clarify some things. And when I thought about dropping out of school to pay for things, all I felt was relieved. This just isn’t what I want anymore.”Ursula stared at him. That was twice now he’d felt unable to confide in her. First about feeling overwhelmed about Mister V, and now this. She’d talked him into both things with the promise of her full support. Both things she’d failed to notice he was struggling with. The thought made her angry—both at him for keeping it from her but also at herself for not paying better attention.They were supposed to be better than this.They were supposed to tell each other everything.It was the foundation on which they’d built their relationship.“And what about us?” she asked.Nathan blinked. “What about us?”Ursula drew in a deep breath, steeling her heart. “You said this isn’t what you want anymore; do you still want to do us?”Nathan continued to look perplexed, and then her meaning clicked. The look of hurt that crossed his face cut her to the quick. “What the Hell? Why would you even ask that?” he demanded.“I don’t know!” Ursula threw her arms up. “You’re obviously unhappy. And I keep not noticing, and you feel like you can’t tell me things, and it’s all my fault! I’m the reason you moved to the city. I’m the reason you don’t talk to your parents. I’m the reason you went back to school even though you weren’t sure about it, and I’m the one who convinced you to try sugaring to pay for it! I’m the reason we keep having to move and why we’re always broke, and… and…” Ursula gulped, trying to breathe around the tsunami of panic flooding through her chest. She was so far inside her head that she jumped when she felt a gentle hand touch her arm.Ursula looked up to find Nathan in front of her, his expression unbearably sad. When he spoke, his voice was low and gentle. “You’re right. You are the reason for a lot of those things. You’re the reason I moved here and away from my parents. You’re also why I found the courage to finally stand up to them and be myself. I went back to school because you gave me the encouragement I needed when I didn’t know what else to do with myself. And yeah, it’s not working out at the minute, but who’s to say it won’t in a while? We’re broke, sure, but that’s not on you. That’s the world we’re living in, and it sucks. But it sucks infinitely less with you in it.” His mouth twitched, fighting a grin. “Plus, like, the sex is just phenomenal.” He held his hands up, gesturing expressively, and Ursula gasped as the tears in her eyes welled over into laughter. “Like, I dunno if I’ve told you this lately, but you’re ridiculously hot. Like totally smoking.”Ursula laughed and wiped the tears away from her face. “You may have mentioned it once or twice in the last few hours.” She glanced sideways up at him. “What about the sugaring?”Nathan’s expression turned serious again. He shrugged. “I don’t regret it if that’s what you’re asking. Even if it didn’t turn out the way we expected.”Which was a generous understatement, Ursula felt. But she was glad to hear him say it. In the aftermath of their difficult conversation, she’d tried to muster up some tiny shred of regret for meeting Mister V. She’d been unable to do so. Even now, the thought of talking to him later tonight made her heart flutter, though Ursula knew she’d have to curtail her enthusiasm. For a while, at least.“I love you,” Nathan said, taking a step closer but still giving her space. “And I love our life together. Nothing about that has changed. I’m sorry I’ve been bad at communicating things lately. It’s just…” He gestured vaguely. “I’ve been trying to work things out in my head until I could talk about them coherently. And honestly, until last night, I didn’t really know what I wanted.”“And what do you want?” Ursula asked.He reached out, hooking his pinky finger around hers. “I want to be with you. I want to find a home where we can be together. Somewhere we can bring other people home if we want to and give each other space if we need it. Preferably somewhere that’s not about to get knocked down and gentrified into a microbrewery.” Ursula snorted. Nathan carried on. “And I think we could make that work. It doesn’t have to be that one place; that was just an idea. But I think we could have that life. If you’d be willing to try.”Ursula squeezed his hand and stepped closer until she could lean against his chest. “Okay.”“Okay?” he asked.“Yeah, okay.” She tipped her head back to gaze up at him. “You want this? Let’s try it.”Nathan’s blue eyes flickered rapidly over his face. Then he sighed, his broad shoulders sagging. “Thank you.” His relief was palatable, and Ursula mentally berated herself again for not noticing how stressed he’d been sooner. How had she missed it? Had she been so wrapped up in relationship euphoria with Mister V that she’d tuned Nathan out? Or was this just the toll of the last few weeks finally breaking her down?Either way, it wasn’t good enough on her part. She’d have to do better.“Okay.” She sniffed and wiped at her eyes again. “It’s agreed we’re doing this. But from now on we talk to each other. No more bottling things up. I’d rather hear your disjointed thoughts than nothing until we’re at breaking point. All right?”Nathan nodded. “All right. But uhm…” He reached up and fiddled with his left hearing aid. “While we’re talking about talking. I think I need to see the audiologist again. I don’t know if it’s me or the hearing aids, but it’s getting harder to hear. Like even now, you’re crackling like you’re halfway across the room.” He smiles apologetically. “Doesn’t help with the whole ‘need to talk about this’ anxiety.”“Oh, Nathan,” Ursula sighed and wrapped her arms around him again. “You know we can always text or email. It doesn’t have to be verbal.”Nathan leaned into the hug, resting his chin atop her head. “I know, it’s just… with my family, it was such a big deal. Like to them, the hearing aids were supposed to fix everything, and things would go back to normal. But that’s not how that works.”Ursula squeezed him tighter. “No, it’s not.”Nathan half-sighed, half-grunted at her efforts. “I guess, sometimes, I worry I’m not trying hard enough.”Ursula pulled back and tipped her head back so he could see her lips move. “You don’t need to try to be enough. You are enough. And whatever you need to do to make things easier, we will do.”“Thank you.” He leaned down to press a kiss to her upturned mouth. When they’d held each other long enough, Ursula stepped back, scrubbing her hands through her mussed-up hair.“Ugh, okay. No more panic. We need to get moving and sort things out.” She glanced at her watch. “And I need to head to work. Madame Jennee wants me at the club to work the coffee bar before club hours tonight. Are you okay? Are we okay?”“We’re fine,” Nathan assured her, smiling softly. “We always were.”Ursula smiled back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to panic like that.”“It’s okay. Things have been…” He paused. “Stressful, lately. But we’re okay. You don’t need to worry about any of this.” He waved a hand between them and the laptop still open on the table. “I’ll get a head start on some things while you’re out, and then we’ll take it from there. Okay?”“Okay.” Ursula took a steadying breath and squared her shoulders. They could do this. They would do this. Everything was going to be okay. “Okay,” she said again. “I really need to get going. I should be home by seven. Oh—do you still want to talk with Mister V tonight?”“I kinda do, if that’s okay?” Nathan rubbed the back of his neck. “I missed talking to him this week. Is that weird?”Ursula smiled and turned to retrieve her bag from the hallway. “Well, if you’re weird, I’m weird. Guess we’ll just have to be weird together. I’ll text him on my way to work, make sure he’s still up for it.”“Sounds good. Hey,” Nathan called after her, and Ursula paused halfway out the door. “We’ll be okay,” he said again.Ursula nodded. “I know. Love you.”“Love you too. Call me if you want me to come walk you home. And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”“Short list!” Ursula replied over her shoulder, smiling when he laughed.Which somehow made everything better.Sure, things were in chaos, and everything felt like it was falling apart around them. But suddenly, it didn’t matter so much.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“So, what will you do with your week off?” Lady Margarete asked.Vlad looked up from his empty plate and blinked blearily. Despite going to bed early the night before, he’d awoken this morning feeling worse than he usually did. As though his body didn’t know what to do with a solid eight hours of sleep anymore. He yawned before answering, covering his mouth. “I don’t know. I didn’t think this far ahead.”Beside him, Vlad’s father grunted. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on your perspective, he was having one of his more lucid days. “Vacation,” he muttered. “I never bothered with anything like that. And when I did, I used to take work with me.”“Yes, I remember.”Vlad picked up his coffee mug and stared into the dregs as he recalled going to Disneyland for the first time. It’d been a wretched experience. He had vivid memories of being strapped into the backseat next to his father’s desktop computer, the sound of his parents arguing barely muffled by his headphones. The thought made him feel old, not just because laptops hadn’t been a thing yet, but because of how distant the rest of the memory felt. He could only half remember walking around the parks with his mother. The sound of her laughter eroded by the firmer memory of his parents arguing at night after he’d gone to bed. There was a photo still kicking around the house somewhere. A family tableau of misery staged in the happiest place on earth. His mother’s manic smile on one side, his father, angled away on the other, talking into a cell phone the size of a cinder block.And Vlad trapped in the middle.He felt sorry for whatever character actor had taken it.“Not on any of our vacations, you didn’t,” Lady Margarete interjected into his thoughts, and Vlad had to take a sip of cold coffee to keep from laughing at the bald-faced lie.His father might not have brought a chunky desktop computer with him when it was Riya’s turn to experience the magic kingdom, but he’d still brought work. Vlad could remember the angry phone calls taken by the poolside, something about shares and stocks falling through. Lady Margarete had tried to keep Riya distracted, but Vlad knew there was only so much you could hide from children. It’d left him feeling obligated to step in and remove her from the situation, and he’d offered to take her around the parks from dawn until dusk. He’d felt like a bellend walking around with a pair of mouse ears on—caught in that awkward teenage stage of not caring what anyone thought of him while simultaneously caring too much. It’d been worth it to see Riya happy. Vlad smiled, recalling how she’d shrieked the entire way through the Haunted Mansion, only to come out the other side, begging to go back in again. It’d been the start of her fascination with everything macabre, which escalated into a truly impressive emo phase in her teens, much to the despair of their parents. On the other hand, Vlad had never been prouder of his baby-bat sister, even if she’d kept stealing his eyeliner until he took her shopping to buy one of her own.Beside him, his father grunted again but said nothing. His gaze fixed on Vlad with unnerving clarity when he looked up again. “Did you find a divorce attorney yet?”“Anton,” Lady Margarete warned under her breath.“What?” Vlad’s father held his hands up. “I’m only asking.”“Yes.” Vlad sighed, resigned to this new line of questioning. He was amazed they’d made it this far through brunch without the subject coming up.“And?”“And what?” Vlad asked.“Have you told her yet? Elizabeth, I mean, not your—” His father’s lip curled into a sneer of a smile. “—chippy.”“Anton,” Lady Margarete chided, scandalized at his use of that word.Vlad pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t use that word. And no, I haven’t told Elizabeth. The lawyer was very adamant about letting his people handle that.” Especially once the restraining order was in place. He took a deep, steadying breath, trying to drag oxygen past the iron band of anxiety squeezing around his ribcage. “I’m signing the papers this week. She should get served soon after. Provided she’s where she’s supposed to be.”Which according was still with the Carlisles on their yacht. It was amazing how Elizabeth had yet to outstay her welcome. But then Vlad supposed like attracted like. Perhaps they were all having a wonderful time, and it’d only been him that’d felt awkward and out of place on those trips. It was certainly looking that way.“Well, that’s probably for the best.” Lady Margarete pursed her lips together into a grimace of a smile. “And, uh, your new friend,” she said with as much tact as possible, ignoring the vulgar snort her husband gave. “Is, um, everything all right there?”Vlad blinked at her. “Are you asking how my affair is going?”Lady Margarete shrugged, drawing her shoulders up around her ears. She was visibly uncomfortable. “I’m just trying to take an interest.”Vlad continued to stare at her, then shrugged. “Fine, I guess.”“You guess?” His stepmother frowned. “That sounds uncertain…”Vlad shrugged again. He didn’t know where to begin explaining his dynamic with Nate or Sue. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to. Besides, it wasn’t as though they’d ever meet. Why stress everyone when he didn’t have to?“We’re working some things out,” he said, reaching across the table for the coffeepot and pouring himself another cup.“You mean she found out you were married, and now you’re in the doghouse,” his father muttered, casting a knowing, sideways glance at his son.Vlad hated him. Both for being correct but also for how similar they’d turned out to be. He didn’t bother to deny it, though. “Something like that.”“Oh, dear.” Lady Margarete sighed.Vlad knew she was disappointed in him. She’d never say it outright—Margarete was too avoidant of confrontation for that. But Vlad could feel it radiating out of her. A gentle sort of sadness, like somehow she’d failed him, which was so much worse. It wasn’t as though Vlad was proud of himself right now, either. He’d always regret lying to Nathan and Ursula. Vlad even regretted lying to Elizabeth for how little it likely hurt her. But as many regrets as he had, Vlad couldn’t regret how things were going. Even knowing that what he had with Nathan and Ursula was temporary, it’d all been worth it because Vlad knew now. He knew what lay beyond the bitter sea of hopelessness he’d allowed himself to sink into, and while it still felt like Vlad was drowning, he’d also glimpsed the glimmer of sunlight glinting off the surface.He just had to keep kicking upward until he could breathe again.“You know,” Lady Margarete began, “I’m sure if you called Lizzy, she’d—”Vlad cut her off. “No.”Lady Margarete was not to be dissuaded, however. “It just feels like you’re giving so much away.” She gave him a soft, sad smile and reached across the table to clasp his hand. “Seventeen years is a long time, and a lot to give up on for someone you barely know…”Vlad curled his fingers around hers, returning the squeeze before pulling away again. “I’m aware of that. But I’m not ending my marriage for someone else.”Lady Margarete blinked at him, her face scrunching up in confusion. “Then who are you doing all of this for?”Vlad stared back at her. Wasn’t it obvious? He was doing it for himself. * Back home, Vlad was at a loss for what to do with the rest of his day. It was still early in the afternoon, but he’d already finished all the usual rituals that occupied his Saturdays. He’d sent his suits out for dry cleaning and had attempted to clean up his living space, making ready to start the work cycle again on Monday. However, without that looming deadline to give him structure, the endless void of Free Time yawned out in front of him. It was more than just a little pathetic. Was that all Vlad did? Did he just spend his time off stuck in stasis, waiting for the workweek to start again? What did he do before his work and marriage took over his life?Ah, yes, Vlad thought wryly, drugs. But apart from that, what else did he do? He used to make things, Vlad realized. There wasn’t a time in high school when you could have pried his sketchpad out of his hands or his Sony Walkman—the dinged-up blue chassis held together for years with black electrical tape until the whole thing disintegrated. Vlad couldn’t remember when he’d just sat and listened to music while sketching. The thought of doing so now made him slightly tremulous. He wasn’t sure if any of his art supplies in the attic were still good. His charcoal was likely turned to dust; his oil and acrylic paints solidified shut. And even if they weren’t, the thought of hauling everything down and setting it up was more than his brain could handle. But that wasn’t the only way to scratch that creative itch now, was it?Vlad took an about-turn out of the kitchen and headed down the hallway to his abandoned home office. The room was just as he’d left it; dark and empty, now with a thick layer of dust everywhere. He dropped into his neglected swivel chair and began rummaging through the contents of his desk drawers. It felt strange being back in here. He’d been avoiding it for months, almost a year now that he thought about it. Ever since he’d stopped sharing a bedroom with Elizabeth, it’d just been easier to avoid her that way. The room was too central to the rest of the house, too close to the kitchen and the perpetually stocked liquor cabinet. Too close to Elizabeth and her razor-sharp tongue. It’d been safer to take his things and retreat to the safety of the guest bedroom.To a room with a lock.Vlad paused, an icy chill sweeping down his spine. He looked around the darkened office again, keenly aware of his pulse pounding at the base of his throat, just like it did whenever he pulled up to the driveway some nights, dreading the sight of her car in the garage. He’d never considered himself scared of Elizabeth before, but now that he could sit down and think about it through the clarity of her absence, his actions didn’t seem like someone unafraid to be in their own home. He sat with this revelation for a while, unsure what he was feeling, only that he was feeling a lot of it and would like it to stop. When his heart no longer felt like it was about to bound out of his chest, Vlad resumed his task, pulling out tangled loops of wire, random attachments for his laptop, and what appeared to be every phone charger he’d ever owned since 2012. When he finally found what he was looking for, he held it up victoriously: the graphics tablet Riya and Kitty had given him several Christmases ago. It’d been a thoughtful gift, if entirely different from what Vlad was used to. And while some messy part of Vlad’s soul would always prefer chalk and paint over clean digital lines, he’d enjoyed learning to use it. Then his father’s illness had progressed, and there hadn’t even been time for him to sit and doodle on his laptop. He wondered if it still worked. Well, there was only one way to find out. Tucking the stylus behind his ear, Vlad took the tablet and went to find his laptop.Several hours and numerous software updates later, Vlad was surprised to find he was enjoying himself. It’d taken him a while to remember how to use the stylus, and switching between brushes and tools still tripped him up, but there was a small, overwhelmingly giddy part of him that was relieved to find he still knew how to draw. It was clumsy and nowhere near what he’d once been capable of, but Vlad suspected he might reclaim some of that skill with a little more time and practice. He was enjoying himself so much that the passage of time became meaningless and he was startled out of his focus by the alarm on his phone. Blinking, he realized the house was dark around him, and it was time to get ready to watch a movie with Nathan and Ursula. Vlad cursed and swiped his phone screen up to tap out a brief message, letting them know he’d be a few minutes late. If he was quick, he could wolf down some of the leftovers in the refrigerator and not break his tenuous self-care streak: the two whole days he’s managed so far.Look at you, he thought, snorting at himself as he hauled his laptop down the stairs and headed for the kitchen. Remembering to eat, socialize, be creative, and all on the same day! If Vlad wasn’t careful, he might turn into a real adult.What a horrifying yet elating thought.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
After such a stressful start to the day, Nathan felt a bit of self-care was in order. Which was why he spent the rest of the morning stress napping on the couch and eating his way through half a packet of Twizzlers for lunch. The nap, Nathan felt, was well warranted. He’d lain awake most of the previous night, listening to the sound of rain pattering against the window as the wheels of his brain spun. It hadn’t surprised him to learn they were being evicted. You only had to look around the city to see that one coming. But he’d failed to predict Ursula’s reaction to it. Or, more precisely, her miniature freak out over their relationship. Nathan frowned, contemplating how they’d got to this point. They’d been the constant in each other’s variables for so long that it hurt to know she was questioning it or his desire to be with her. Logically, he knew it was a panic response to their life being turned upside down again. But it still hurt. Which, Nathan also conceded, was likely how she felt about him not telling her things. Like the fact that he was so unhappy with school, he wanted to quit. Or that his hearing aids were failing. Not to even mention his initial freeze-up over Mister V.Nathan winced.Ursula’s freakout made much more sense now that he thought about it.Communication, or the lack thereof, was the easiest way to kill any relationship, monogamous or otherwise. You could start out with the best intentions in the world and agree to always talk about things, but the truth was if you didn’t put the work in, it was easy for things to fall apart while you weren’t looking. Easy to get comfortable and assume everything would always be okay. Easy to take things for granted. Easy to believe you were above the problems of others. Even easier still to panic when reality caught up with you and proved how naïve that belief was. Especially when faced with additional outside stressors. Like trying to earn a bit of extra money off the back of your exhibitionist kink, only to form feelings for the person on the other end.Or like getting evicted. Again.Nathan sighed, the sound coming out more of a rumbling growl as he scrubbed his hands over his face. When he opened his eyes again, he was met with the sight of their clean but cluttered apartment. They’d been here just shy of a year, yet somehow, the space was jam-packed to bursting point. From Ursula’s aerial gear behind the door, the few large items of furniture they’d brought with them, to the mass of knick-knacks strewn about the place, all of it would need to be packed up and hauled off to wherever they moved to next.Ursula was right. It wasn’t fair.At least he’d told her about school. That was a weight off his mind. Sort of. Nathan’s gaze skittered to the stack of books on the kitchen table next to his laptop. They felt like such a waste of money, and Nathan felt a stab of guilt at how much Mister V had spent on them. He wondered if he could resell them and offer to pay the money back. Nathan doubted Mister V would accept, but it felt like the proper thing to offer.Wasn’t it?“Oh, fuck this for a game of soldiers,” Nathan muttered, hauling himself upright. He needed something productive to focus on, and moping on the couch all day wouldn’t get him anywhere. He retrieved his laptop and pulled up the email that’d been sitting in his drafts for over a month. It was addressed to his college advisor, requesting a meeting to discuss withdrawing from the rest of the semester. Nathan scanned it, ensuring he hadn’t missed any typos despite the hundred previous times he’d read it. Satisfied, he took a deep breath and hit send. It was a drop in the ocean compared to everything they needed to deal with, but it was a start.Which was sometimes all you needed.The rest of the day passed him by in a haze of busy work. Nathan took it upon himself to finish the last few loads of laundry, psyching himself up to make phone calls between running up and down the stairs to the utility room in the basement. The apartment he’d shown Ursula this morning was already gone, but the landlady sounded nice and told him she’d call back if any more openings came up. The audiology clinic was booked solid, but he managed to grab an appointment for next month. Nathan just hoped his hearing aids would last that long. He also called about another apartment on the south side, but smaller and farther out. It wasn’t ideal for public transport, but the rent was doable. And who knew, maybe if they really won the lottery, they’d be able to afford a car sometime this century. By the time evening rolled around, Nathan was feeling moderately accomplished. The apartment was clean, things were progressing in the right direction, and everything was ready for their movie night with Mister V, with one glaring exception.Ursula wasn’t home yet.Nathan pulled his phone out. She hadn’t texted since her last break. Which wasn’t unusual; they weren’t joined at the hip. But she usually let him know if she was running late. Nathan chewed his lip and dialed her number. It rang only twice before she picked up. “Hey!” she greeted him, sounding harassed. “Sorry, I was just about to call.”“Hey,” Nathan replied, breathing a quiet sigh of relief at knowing she was all right. “What happened? I thought you’d be home by now…”“So did I, but fucking Devon hasn’t shown up yet. I’m stuck.” She sounded ready to spit blood.“You’re still at the club?”“Madame Jennee moved me to the bar about an hour ago. Hold on. Twelve-ten, love,” she said, clearly to someone in front of her. The sound of the old cash register behind the bar made itself known, and her voice faded in and out, followed by the shrill, fake laugh she gave whenever someone creepy was vying for her attention. “I hope you choke,” she growled under her breath a moment later, still sounding distant.Like most kink-centric clubs, alcohol wasn’t allowed, and Madam Jennee, the club proprietress, got away with charging exorbitant amounts for mocktails, sodas, and fancy bottled water. But that didn’t always deter certain patrons from acting as though they were inebriated.Nathan frowned. “Do you need me to come down there?”“No, it’s fine.” Her voice came back clearer, like she’d picked up her phone again. “It’s just the usual early Saturday night crowd. You know what it’s like.”Nathan did. He’d worked a fair share of shifts at Club Wyrd. Usually standing next to the bar, arms folded over his chest and glowering extra hard at patrons who got too close to the bar staff. Just because the club catered to kink didn’t mean there was a standing invitation for unwanted advances. The regulars knew that, and any newbies who were new to the scene quickly learned. The kink-tourists who passed through on the weekends and were there for the shock value never bothered.“Are you sure you don’t want me to come down?” Nathan asked, spreading his free arm even though she wouldn’t see it. “I’m told I’m a natural at looking mean and scary.”“You’re a teddy bear,” Ursula informed him. “A six-foot-five teddy bear with resting bitch face.”“Yes, but they don’t know that.” “Ugh, no, it’s fine,” Ursula replied. “Hopefully, I won’t be much longer. Madame Jennee is trying to call someone in. The good news is I’m on overtime right now. Plus tips!” She was trying to sound chipper, but Nathan could hear how strained it was. “I’m sorry. I really wanted to be home by now too.”“It’s all right,” Nathan replied. “Things happen. Though, I suppose I should text Mister V and ask for a rain check…”“What? Why? You two can still have fun.”Nathan blinked. “Without you?”“Sure! Besides, I’ll still be there. I’ll just be late.”“But what if you’re not?” Nathan asked. “What if you’re there until closing?”“Then I guess you boys will just have to enjoy some quality time without me,” Ursula replied evenly. “Look, I better go. There’s a line forming, and Mel might stab me with a cocktail stick if I don’t come back out front and help.”“But… but what do I talk about?”“I dunno. What do you usually talk about with people when I’m not around?”Nathan opened his mouth, unsure how to convey that Mister V wasn’t the usual type of person he gravitated to on his own. Nathan was drawn to extroverts. Chatty, animated people he could enjoy being around while not draining himself, trying to think of things to say. It was why he and Ursula worked so well. She could talk for hours and not mind if he only said two words the entire time.But Mister V was different.Mister V was like Nathan.Quiet and reserved.Nathan wasn’t sure they’d know where to begin without her.“You’ll think of something. You can’t hide behind me forever, you know,” Ursula said, sounding fond but knowing. “And you know if you need him to type instead, he’d probably be fine with that. I think he prefers texting sometimes, too. Okay, going for real now. Love you. Be brave.”“Love you too,” Nathan replied, holding the phone to his ear for several seconds until the line went dead.This was fine.Two introverts hanging out on a Skype call without their driving force to guide them. One of whom was partially deaf and the other who was, as yet, entirely faceless, making lip-reading impossible.This was all fine.This was all going to be fine. Because Nathan was going to text and ask if they could do it next week. Yes, that was what he was going to do. Or it would have been if his phone hadn’t chimed in his hand at that moment. Looking at the screen, Nathan felt his heart flutter and his stomach twist.The message from Mister V said, Running late, but I’ll be there in around ten. Looking forward to tonight :)Nathan’s shoulders slumped. Why did the other man have to choose now to become emotionally expressive and communicative? Screwing up his reserves of social courage, Nathan again sat down at his laptop and pulled up their chat history, busying himself with getting the viewing party ready. Ursula had picked out several things for them to watch. A notable amount of them were vampire-related. The chat icon flashed orange roughly ten minutes later. Launching the call, Nathan was keenly aware of his solo presence on the screen. His gaze darted to the camera, and he offered a jaunty half-wave of a salute. “Hello.”“Good evening,” Mister V’s disembodied voice greeted him. “Sorry for running late; I got distracted and didn’t realize the time.”“That’s all right,” Nathan replied, gesturing to the empty space beside him. “You’re not the only one running late. Sue’s still at work.”“Oh.” Nathan tried not to read too much disappointment into his tone.“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling his stomach sink along with the rest of his confidence. “She should be home soon. But there’s a chance she might end up stuck there. Someone didn’t show up for their shift.”“That’s unfortunate,” Mister V replied.“Yeah.” Clearing his throat, Nathan said, “We can reschedule for another night when she’ll be here…”There was a pause, then Mister V asked, “Is that what you want to do?”Nathan hesitated. Was it what he wanted? Part of him thought so, but he’d also been sincere earlier about missing the other man. They’d only just really started talking to each other when things blew up. This sucked because Nathan felt they might make pretty decent friends if nothing else. He shrugged, flashing what he hoped was an easy smile at the camera. “I’m just offering. And it sounds like you’ve got other stuff going on…”Mister V gave a brief laugh. “I wouldn’t call it that.”“Well…” Nathan pushed his hair self-consciously out of his eyes. He was so used to Ursula sitting in the forefront that he couldn’t help fidgeting. “If you want to stick around and chat, we can wait for her.” He didn’t mention what they’d do if she didn’t show up.“Sure, that works. So long as you don’t mind…”“No, no, not at all. So long as you’re cool with it.” Nathan flashed another increasingly desperate smile at the camera.“All right, sounds good.”There was another pause, and Nathan felt it stretch out in front of them, awkward and empty. Eager to fill it, he asked, “So, how… how are you?”“Doing better,” Mister V replied, sounding like he was also enduring the tenth circle of small talk hell. “You?”“Uh, good,” Nathan lied, unsure what to say next. He had to wonder what it said about him that fucking on camera for strangers could be exhilarating but exchanging polite conversation with someone he somewhat knew could be so excruciating.The silence resumed. Then Mister V let out a low huff of laughter. “We really are used to letting Sue carry the conversation, aren’t we?”Nathan let out an explosive sigh. It was that or explode with relief. “Yeah, I guess so. I’m uh… I’m not fantastic at speaking, really.” He reached up, fiddling absently with one of his hearing aids. “Or more listening. I suppose. Kinda hard to follow a lot of conversations when you maybe only catch every other word.”“Yes, I suppose it would be.” Mister V sounded thoughtful. “Truth be told, I’m bad at it as well. Though for different reasons…”“Oh?”“Yeah.” He gave another one of those brief laughs. It was thick with self-recrimination. “I, uh, phase in and out of conversations. I don’t mean to; it just sort of happens sometimes. Someone will start talking, and I’ll be focusing so much on listening I won’t hear a damn thing. Little awkward when you’re the one chairing the meeting.”“Ha, yeah. I bet.” Nathan picked up his laptop, moving away from the kitchen table to the comfort of the couch. “It’s annoying when it’s stuff you want to pay attention to, too. It’s why we always have subtitles on when we watch things. I find it helps to have two things to focus on.” He set the laptop down on its make-shift stand, angling the lid to a better angle, so Mister V wasn’t staring up his crooked nose. “Which, uh, I don’t think we ever asked you if that was all right.”“With subtitles?” Mister V sounded perplexed. Like he might be wrinkling his nose. “Why wouldn’t I be?”Nathan shrugged. “Some people really hate them. I found that out when I started needing them, I guess.” He laughed to cover the hot burst of resentment that bubbled through his chest at the memory of his family complaining about how distracting subtitles were every time they tried to watch something. Of course, they’d always do it, but not without passing comment on it first.“Huh, I never thought of that.” Mister V clucked his tongue. “I use them all the time. Even at work. Actually, hold that thought.”“Holding it,” Nathan replied. “What exactly am I holding?” A link popped up in their chat feed. The file name looked like gibberish. “Uh?”“I know it looks like a virus, but I promise you it’s not a virus.” “That sounds like something someone would say right before they send you a virus,” Nathan replied, downloading it.“You don’t have to install it, but if you want to try it, it might make our conversations easier.”“What is it?” Nathan asked, clicking on the file install.“It’s a subtitle generator that works in real-time.”“What, like auto-captions?”“Sort of,” Mister V agreed. “Except most auto-captions are rendered after a file has been scanned and uploaded. Well, as I said, this works in real-time with a few seconds’ delay. We use something similar at work for teleconferences, but those captions are generated by humans typing extremely fast. This software is being developed to eliminate that.”Nathan paused, his eyes swiveling up to the camera. “Are you telling me this thing could caption conversations as they’re happening?”“I mean, you’d need a computer and for everyone else around you to be running it and using microphones. It’s why we’re trying to implement it into smart technology. Sort of like Siri or Alexa…” He trailed off. “Though hopefully less evil.”“Only less evil?” Nathan arched an eyebrow at the camera. “Not completely evil-free?”Mister V gave a huff of laughter. Nathan thought it sounded frustrated. “I’ve already vetoed several attempts to turn it into spyware for marketing companies. But it’s me against the board, and I might have to concede at some point if we want it to see the light of day this century. Things aren’t allowed to just be functional or accessible, I’m afraid. They have to turn a profit and do free market research in the background.”“Fucking capitalism,” Nathan muttered.Mister V made a non-committal sound. “Quite. Anyway, it’s not one hundred percent accurate, but if you want to give it a whirl, we can see how well it works in the wild.”“You mean, do I want to help test something with the capability to potentially make my life significantly easier even if it leads to Skynet taking over?” Nathan stroked an imaginary beard, hamming it up for the camera. “Yes, I want to try it out—why is that even a question?”Mister V chuckled, a low droll sound that made Nathan’s ears burn pink. He really did have an incredible voice. All low and breathy with a drawling, effortless charm that did strange things to Nathan’s hindbrain. Like smoke curling off smoldering coals, all smooth and rich like velvet. Yet, even with those qualities, every word was still clearly enunciated. Like someone used to public speaking who knew how to ensure he was heard without raising his voice. Nathan suspected he could read the dictionary and make it sound sexy.“I’ve already got it installed, but you might need to restart again.”“Noted,” Nathan replied, following the instructions popping up on his screen. “You said this thing’s still in development. You won’t get in like… trouble for sharing it, are you?”“Why? Are you going to tell on me?”
I’ll tell Mister V on you…
Nathan let out a breathless laugh as Ursula’s words came back to taunt him. He’d never been more grateful for a software update prompting him to restart in all of his life. “I’ll be right back.”A couple of minutes and a glass of water later, Nathan was back in the Skype chat.“Welcome back,” Mister V said.“Thanks,” Nathan replied, watching the software boot up. “So, what do we do?”“Follow the instructions, and then you’re going to enter this ID and access code.”The chatbox flashed orange again, and Nathan copy-pasted the numbers into the corresponding slots that appeared. After a few seconds, a black strip appeared over the bottom half of his screen. “Uh…”“The eventual goal is to make it prettier and more customizable for other accessibility needs in the future,” Mister V said, his words coming out crisp and precise. “I’m afraid we’re working with the bare bones with this version. Sorry.”But Nathan didn’t hear the other man’s apology. Mainly because he was too busy reading it. Nathan stared, watching the words scroll across the bottom of his screen mere seconds after Mister V said them. “Holy shit,” he breathed. “This is like… game-changing. On so many levels.”“That’s the idea,” Mister V replied, the words appearing on Nathan’s screen again. “Provided we can work out some kinks and actually get it on the market.”Amusingly, it starred out the word ‘kink.’ and Nathan was struck with the sudden desire to ask Mister V to swear for him. Instead, he glanced at the camera and said, “This is really cool, thank you.”“Don’t thank me just yet. It might crash in a minute. As I said, we’re still working on it. But enough about work. I’m supposed to be on vacation.”“Oh?” Nathan asked, politely letting the subject drop but filing this new information away for later. Mister V worked with technology development. Or something like it. It was more than they’d learned about what he did in the nine months since they’d started chatting. “Are we cutting into your free time?”“God, no. This wasn’t planned. More of a spontaneous decision, really. Anyway, we’re still talking about me. How are you?”“Oh, y’know, fine.” Nathan lied, nodding. “We’re all fine here…”“You don’t sound certain,” Mister V said.Nathan shrugged, rubbing at the back of his neck. The old injury in his left shoulder felt unbearably tight, and he resisted the urge to dig into the muscle with his thumb. “Yeah, no, we’re good. There’s just some… life shit happening.”“Oh?” “Yeeeah… we found out this morning that we’re getting evicted.”“Oh. Fuck.”Nathan couldn’t help but laugh. That said it all, really. Amusingly, the caption didn’t filter it out. “Yeah. The building manager gave us our ninety-day notice. Apparently, they’re going to knock down the building. Probably turn it into a microbrewery or some shit.”“Fuck,” Mister V repeated. “I am so sorry.”“It’s all right; we’ve been meaning to look for a new place for a while. We only really picked this place because it was available and close to school.”“How’s that going?” Mister V asked, and Nathan saw himself wince on the camera.“I, uh… I’m dropping out.”“What? Why?”Nathan shrugged uneasily. “Couple of reasons. I’m passing my classes, just. But the stress is killing me, and my mental health is kinda hanging on by a thread.” He attempted to smile. “On the plus side, if I drop out and work full time, we’ll be able to afford somewhere nicer to live. So it works out really, two birds, one stone kinda deal.”There was a drawn-out silence on the other end of the line, then Mister V said, “If it’s a question of money—”But Nathan couldn’t let him finish making that offer. “We’re fine,” he said, just a touch more tersely than was perhaps necessary.There was another beat of silence, and then Mister V simply said, “All right.”His tone was carefully neutral, and Nathan winced internally. He knew the other man meant well and didn’t want to push him away. But they’d ended their sugaring arrangement to even the playing field for the sake of whatever was forming between them. Tempting as it was, they couldn’t run back to him at the first sign of trouble. And it really wasn’t just about money.But they also didn’t need to wall him off entirely either.Coughing, he glanced furtively up at the camera, aware of the continued silence on the other end of the line. “Just don’t be surprised if a shit ton of candy appears on the wishlist.” Mister V snorted, and Nathan sighed, relieved that he hadn’t killed the conversation entirely. “Seriously, if stress eating was an Olympic sport, I’d be checking the gold medal to see if there’s any chocolate inside.”“And here was me thinking all that candy was for Ursula.”“I mean, some of it was.” Nathan shrugged, turning his gaze up to the ceiling in thought. “Like maybe sixty-forty.” He winced, jogging his head from side to side. “Okay, maybe eighty-twenty. I think I ate my body weight in gummy bears during my midterms.”“I have no idea where you put it all.”Nathan gestured to himself, “Hey, I’m a growing boy. I need the energy.”“I’m sure you do,” Mister V replied. It was probably just his imagination, but Nathan thought he heard a note of warmth behind it. Flirty, even, like Mister V was eyeing him up and down. The thought sent a frisson of tension racing down his spine. Was this what it was like to have Mister V’s full attention all the time? Or was Nathan projecting what he wanted from that smooth, drawling voice?He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I uh, about the books?”“Books?” Mister V sounded confused.“The school books,” Nathan clarified. “The ones you sent from our wishlist.”“Oh, those. What about them?”Nathan’s eyes rolled nervously to the side, wishing he didn’t have the camera on. “I uh… well. I just… well, I’m aware of how much they cost, and I don’t want you to think you wasted your money, so I was going to offer—”But Mister V cut him off before he could finish. “Nathan, the books are yours. I don’t care if you use them as a doorstop.”“Yeah, but…”“Nathan,” he said more sternly, but not unkindly. “They were a gift and gladly given. I meant what I said: I neither wanted nor expected anything in return when they were given. I certainly don’t now.”Nathan opened his mouth, then closed it, swallowing his knee-jerk protest. “Well, if you’re sure…”“One hundred percent.”He nodded, brushing his hair out of his eyes again. “All right then. Thank you.”“You’re welcome.”Nathan floundered for something else to say, then memory clicked. “Oh, speaking of gifts: well done.”“For what?” Mister V sounded puzzled again.“For adding something to your wishlist,” Nathan replied.“Oh. The cookies.” It was such a simple utterance, but it contained a magnitude of embarrassment behind it. Nathan couldn’t tell if it was from the praise or the simple act of allowing himself to ask for something. Possibly both. “It’s just a silly thing,”
Mister V carried on, still sounding abashed. “I couldn’t think of anything else.”“Silly is good,” Nathan replied evenly. “Sometimes you need silly things.”“I suppose so.” Mister V cleared his throat, and the speech-to-text software glitched, trying to parse the utterance. “I, uh, I’ll let you know when they get here.”“You do that,” Nathan replied. Changing the subject, he asked, “So, got any plans for your time off?”“Not really,” Mister V replied. He blew out a noisy sigh. “Truthfully, I’m at a loss with what to do with myself. This vacation thing wasn’t my idea.”“No?”“Yeah,” Mister V let the word drawl out on his tongue, dripping with contrition. “I had a moment last week in therapy where I realized I haven’t taken a single day off in over five years.”Nathan paused, allowing his gaze to turn slowly up to the camera. “Dude,” he said sternly. Mister V huffed with laughter again. He was a nervous laugher, Nathan realized. Yet another thing they had in common.“You know, my therapist had a similar reaction.”“I mean, dude,” Nathan said for emphasis, “that’s really not good for you.”“So everyone keeps telling me. Well, not everyone.” He laughed darkly. “I think my father thinks I’m going to implode his precious company by taking a week off to sort my life out.” Nathan might have been projecting, but he thought the other man sounded almost wistful at the prospect. Mister V carried on, “Though I can’t say I blame him. It’s not like he took any time off to deal with his divorces.”Divorces, Nathan noted. Plural. And from the acerbic note in Mister V’s tone, it was a sore spot, even if he was trying to frame it humorously. Thankfully, he was spared from trying to think of something to say to that as Mister V carried on talking.“Anyway, apart from trying to figure out what to do with myself, I don’t have any plans. I’ll probably just sleep it away, or, I dunno…”“Or what?” Nathan prompted when he trailed off again.“I… well, it’ll sound silly.”“We’ve been over this,” Nathan reminded him. “Silly is good. Trust me, I live with Ursula; I’m an expert on the necessity of being silly.”Mister V laughed that same nervous laugh. “Well, a couple of things, but I’m toying with the idea of getting my easel down from the attic and painting something.”“You’re a painter?” Nathan asked, perking up with interest.“I’m not sure I’d go that far. My mother was a painter; she’s the one who taught me. I just used to paint.”Nathan wondered at Mister V’s need to make that distinction, but didn’t question it. There’d been something raw in his voice. More raw, even, than when he’d confessed the truth about his abusive marriage and problems with addiction. And some wounds, he knew, were best left alone. Instead, he asked, “Are you any good?”“Good is subjective when it comes to art. But in terms of technical skill?” He made a thoughtful sound. “Yes, I was moderately good. Once upon a time. I do miss it, though. More than I realized. That’s actually why I was late. I was practicing sketching and completely lost track of time. Even now, I keep picking up the stylus and doodling. Sorry, terrible habit, I know.”Nathan smiled, glad to hear that for once, the other man was late to one of their meetings, not because he was working, but because he was enjoying himself. “That’s all right. There are far worse bad habits to have.”He’d meant nothing by it, but it was only after he’d said it that Nathan realized how judgemental it might sound. Nathan opened his mouth to apologize but was brought up short by a dark bubble of laughter on the other end of the screen.“Don’t I know it.”They lapsed into silence again, but it lacked the awkwardness of before.Mister V broke it first. “So, what should we do now?”Nathan shrugged, glancing at his phone. There was still no word from Ursula. “Dunno. Suppose we could go back to the original plan and watch something?”“We could,” Mister V agreed, though rather non-committal, Nathan thought. He felt somewhat ambivalent about the prospect himself. It was hard to watch things and talk, and, to his surprise, he was really enjoying their conversation. Awkward bits and all.“We could also just keep talking?” Nathan hazarded, lifting his shoulders in a half shrug. “See how far we can keep going before we cave and call Ursula?”“I prefer that idea,” Mister V replied. “So, what do we talk about, then?”“No idea,” Nathan replied cheerfully. “You said you’ve been sketching?”“Attempting to.”“Do I get to see what you’re doing?” Nathan asked, “or is that too much?”“I…” Mister V trailed off, sounding flustered. Nathan was about to retract his request when the other man replied. “I mean, sure. If you really want to?”“Only if you want to.”There was a pause, then another file was dropped into the chatbox. “It’s not like I’m doing anything interesting,” Mister V said. “Just playing, really. I’m out of practice.”Nathan clicked on the file. It was larger than he’d expected, but when it finally loaded, Nathan saw why. The digital canvas filled his screen, a chaotic display of colors, paintbrush samples, and some of the most expressive line art he’d ever seen.“This is you playing?” he demanded. Nathan’s eyes roamed over the creative outpouring in front of him. His gaze landed on the half-rendered features of a woman, her face caught on the cusp of a luminous smile. She looked oddly familiar, but Nathan couldn’t place her. Probably a model on the side of a billboard or something. Youtuber? One of the Influencers Ursula watched? Either way, the attention to detail was exquisite. “This is beautiful,” he said.“Thank you,” Mister V said in a small voice.“Like, actually beautiful,” Nathan continued, zooming in on another sketch of a human hand, the digits unfurling.“It’s raw,” Mister V replied, unable to keep from deflecting the compliment. That only made Nathan want to double down harder, but he resisted the urge. Mister V already sounded skittish, and Nathan didn’t want to overwhelm him with praise.Mister V didn’t seem like he’d had many nice things said to him.Nathan decided they would have to work on that.“I’d love to see what you’re like when you’re back in practice,” he said.Mister V cleared his throat. “I’m not sure I’ll ever have the time for that again. But I will admit, it’s a relief to know I haven’t forgotten everything. In the meantime, I’ll just keep doodling. Though not right now, of course.”Nathan frowned. “Why not?”“Nathan.” Mister V laughed. “We’re talking. I’ve already been rude enough as it is. It’s not exactly a group activity.”Nathan rolled his eyes. He was about to tell Mister V he didn’t care when a thought occurred. “What if it was?”“What do you mean?”“I mean, what if we made it one?”“And just how would we do that?” Mister V asked, humoring him.“You’re sketching on your laptop, right?”“Yes.”Nathan bit his lip, thinking. “Do you have a Discord account?”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“You know,” Mister V began, “I can’t help but feel like this is less of a group activity and more of a spectator sport.”The cursor moved over Nathan’s shared view of his screen, cycling through different brush styles before Mister V settled on one and resumed sketching. Nathan tilted his head to the side, fascinated. “I’m moral support,” he replied, grinning when Mister V snorted.“If you say so.”Freed from being on camera—his laptop couldn’t handle both—Nathan had retreated to bed where he could stretch out and watch Mister V stream in comfort. It felt like a weird role reversal of their sugaring dynamic. Then again, everything about their sugaring element had been topsy-turvy, so what was one more thing to add to the list?“Are you sure you aren’t bored?” Mister V asked.“Not even remotely,” he replied, entranced as the rough shapes on the screen took form into discernable images. It was mesmerizing.Nathan was one of life’s fervent observers. He didn’t have an artistic bone in his body, but he appreciated the skill of others. Nathan could happily watch the creative process unfold for hours, whether watching someone do warm-up sketches on Twitch or at the glassblower’s tent at renfaire. It was like watching magic happen—the creation of something from nothing. Even watching Ursula apply her makeup was fascinating. And Mister V, despite his protests, was good. And the longer Nathan watched, the better he got. It was like watching someone remember how to ride a bike in real-time: a lifetime of neglected skill spilling onto the digital canvas as Mister V flitted from one sketch to the next, growing bolder and more confident with each new endeavor.It was making Nathan feel a bit tingly.Competence kink, Ursula called it. He’d first experienced it while watching her dangle from an aerial hoop, both awestruck and aroused in equal measures. They’d met twice on campus before that, though Nathan didn’t think they’d exchanged more than a handful of words in passing. He remembered thinking Ursula was pretty, in that alternative, not-quite-goth sort of way his mother disapproved of. Unnatural hair color, tattoos, piercings—all things Nathan found attractive but also envy-inspiring. Not the aesthetic itself—though Ursula assured him he could pull it off if he wanted—but the confidence it took to stand out like that. To not only be comfortable in oneself but exuberant about it as well. Nathan still felt that way sometimes, though less so since Ursula came into his life and held his hand through several significant life changes. A pivotal turning point in his life that might never have happened if his straight friends hadn’t dragged him to Club Wyrd.They’d meant the excursion to be a joke. A bit of a laugh and something to brag about later: they’d gone on a burlesque night—one of the tamer events Madam Jenee hosted that wouldn’t challenge their heterosexuality too much. That hadn’t stopped Nathan’s friends from finding people to point and laugh at. Nathan’s heart had been in his mouth the entire time, thudding out an anxious rhythm in time to the music as he took in the rainbow flags draped everywhere and the just as equally colorful patrons in varying stages of undress. Not because he didn’t want to be there, but because of how much he did. It’d felt like coming home—if a home could be a riotous explosion of color, body glitter, and leather. He’d slipped away from his friends and taken refuge behind a faux marble pillar. Club Wyrd had been a theater in its former life, and while most of the hall was now broken up for dancing, the red-curtained stage remained. Nathan remembered turning to face it and watched as the last act—a pretty, slender brunette with bright red 50s lipstick and victory rolls in her hair—slinked off the stage to riotous applause. He’d been about to turn away again when an aerial hoop descended from the ceiling, and Ursula strutted out—her copper skin glowing under the lights of the stage. Someone from the crowd wolf-whistled, and she beamed, pulling a series of poses that showcased the soft round curves of her body with comical playfulness. Then the music started, and she’d leaped upwards, and Nathan had fallen head over heels in love.Or at least some higher form of lust.She was just so sexy. Sexy but also powerful—the muscles in her back and thighs rippling under the lights as she twisted and turned over and through the hoop in a seductive display of gravity-defying acrobatics. Nathan watched, unable to take his eyes off of her. It’d felt like someone had unscrewed the top of his head and poured white-hot magma down his spine. But under his appreciation for how she looked, he realized something else. It wasn’t just the aesthetics of her body he found appealing, but the sheer level of skill it took to move the way she did. The precision of her movements, the strength of her core, and the flexibility in the arch of her spine. More than that, her confidence. The way she’d grinned said she knew you couldn’t take your eyes off her, and she wanted it that way. It’d been like magic, and like a man enchanted, Nathan broke free from his insular friend group and started going to the club on his own. He made new friends, became a part of the community, and even started dating. But Nathan always took the time to stop and watch Ursula’s sets—not out of any hope or expectation of her noticing him—simply to admire a master at work. No one had been more surprised than him when she’d approached him at a munch meet-up one night and asked if he wanted to go for coffee. They’d been together ever since, and Nathan never tired of watching her perform.Watching Mister V wasn’t quite the same, but the echo of it was there. The crossed wires in Nathan’s head taking their existing dynamic and turning appreciation of skill into attraction, even though he still didn’t know what the other man looked like. Emotions could be weird like that.Forgotten on the bed beside him, Nathan’s phone chimed loudly, flashing and buzzing. He picked it up, reading the text.
Still here. Not much longer. How’s it going???
“Ursula?” Mister V guessed.“Yep.” Nathan tapped out a reply. Good, I’m watching him draw.Her reply was immediate. What?!??!He’s been sketching on his laptop while we talk. I convinced him to stream it on Discord, Nathan replied. I added you to the group.Ursula’s name popped up green in the group chat. She wouldn’t be able to view the stream, not with Club Wyrd’s shitty wi-fi, but it gave them somewhere new to talk together that wasn’t as clunky and buggy as Skype. Her icon went dim again.
TELL HIM I SAY HI! AND I WANT A DRAWING!!
Nathan snorted.“Something up?” Mister V asked.“Sue says hi,” Nathan replied. “And she wants you to draw something for her.”Mister V halted mid-sketch. “Anything in particular?”“I don’t think so,” Nathan replied, “just so long as it’s for her. You also don’t have to—”But it was too late. The string of disconnected doodles vanished behind a fresh canvas. Nathan watched the cursor on the screen rapidly cycle through various tools before the pen began moving, mapping out rough shapes. He tilted his head to the side, trying to figure out what the rough amalgamation of shapes might turn into. It was amazing how fast Mister V moved when he had something in mind.“You know,” he said, “I don’t know how you can do all that?”“Do what?”“Like, how do you know where things should go and then just make them into things? Are you looking at something?”Mister V gave a low hum. “Practice. And no, I’ve mostly been working from memory. I find references distracting when my brain is like this. Slows me down. Used to drive my teachers insane.”Nathan didn’t ask what he meant by the brain comment. Instead, he asked, “You studied art formally?”“For a time,” Mister V replied, erasing something on the screen that looked fine to Nathan but was obviously wrong to him. “I studied at the Royal Ingleton Academy of Arts.”Nathan’s eyebrows rose, and he whistled low under his breath. Suddenly, the level of skill on display made more sense. The RIAA was one of the most prestigious art schools in Ingleton. From what Nathan heard, parents had to sign their children up from birth just to get on the waiting list, and even then, only a fraction of students were accepted. It was basically a pipeline to the Royal College of Arts and a fast-track career to being some billionaire’s pet artist creating works of genius in their attic, or whatever it was artists of that caliber did these days. A far cry from what it sounded like Mister V did now.“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Nathan began, “but what happened?”“How do you mean?”“It’s just… if you went to a fancy art school. How did you end up doing whatever it is you actually do?”The other man made a thoughtful noise. “That’s a long and complicated story, but if you really want to know, I got expelled. Or, well, my father pulled me out of the RIAA before they could.”“What the fuck did you do?” Nathan asked breathlessly, and Mister V spluttered with laughter. As far as Nathan knew, getting expelled from places like the RIAA was impossible. The parents paid too much money. He flushed, suddenly aware of how rude that’d been. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound like that.”“It’s fine.” Mister V sounded resigned but in a deadpan and wry sort of way. Like he was used to explaining it. “Let’s just say there’s a limit to how much pot you can smoke before even a pretentious art school objects. To be honest, I think my father was relieved to have an excuse to pull me out. He only let me go because my mother wanted it.”“Why didn’t he want you to go?”“He thinks art is a waste of time,” Mister V replied, his tone dry and derisive. “God knows why he married my mother; it was literally her job. He didn’t like how liberal it was, though. I think he thought it’d make me queerer than he already suspected.”Nathan winced in sympathy. He knew how that went. “I’m sorry, that sucks.”“It is what it is,” Mister V replied without feeling. The brush never stopped moving on the screen. “And don’t feel too bad. He sent me to an all-boys reformatory boarding school after that.”Nathan opened his mouth, then paused. “So… he was worried about you turning out queer?”“Yep.”“So, he sent you to a school full of boys?”“Yep.” Mister V made the ‘p’ pop, sounding amused.“To straighten you out…”“Don’t think about it too hard,” Mister V advised dryly. “My father certainly didn’t.”Nathan laughed, unable to help himself. “I’m going to take a wild stab in the dark and say it didn’t work?”“Not even remotely. If anything, it enabled me to speed run the whole questioning phase I was going through.” Mister V replied, sounding just as amused. It was also, Nathan realized, the first time he’d explicitly talked about his sexual orientation. They’d assumed, of course, and it’d been implied, but it was nice to hear him talk about it candidly. Like he was finally growing comfortable talking about himself. It made Nathan feel weirdly proud of him. Mister V carried on talking, though more ruefully. “Unfortunately, it wasn’t the only thing it enabled. But I survived, just about. Made my way into college, fucked around for a couple of years. Figuratively and literally.”Nathan snorted. “What did you study?” he asked, returning his attention to the screen, where the outline of a feminine figure was taking form. She was sitting at an angle on what appeared to be a rock; her back stretched in a sinuous arch, arms raised above her head. It felt oddly familiar.“Not art, obviously,” Mister V replied. “I did a year of law before jumping to poli-sci, then dropped that too. Eventually, I doubled down and got a business degree like my father wanted. Went back and earned my Masters in Communications.”“Ah.” Nathan nodded. That made more sense. “And that’s how you ended up where you’re at now?”“Oh, god, no.” Mister V laughed. The cursor on the screen moved in bold sweeps as it formed the line art into something more solid, fleshing the features out. “No, that was straight-up nepotism. I worked for my father, then took over when he became ill a few years ago. Though he still likes to hover over my shoulder sometimes.”Nathan grunted. He knew how that went, too. He glanced at his phone, where a guilty string of messages from his mother went unanswered. Not that Nathan didn’t love his family; he just didn’t want to be who they thought he should be. “Do you like it, at least?” he asked.“Like is the wrong word,” Mister V said, pausing to switch tools again. “It’s stressful and soulless, but I’m annoyingly good at it. I’d say it’s not what I imagined myself doing for the rest of my life, but truthfully, I never thought that far ahead. I just wanted to be left alone to make things.”“Like your mother,” Nathan said, remembering Mister V said she was a painter.Mister V hesitated. “Yes, I suppose so…”“What does she think of what you do?”The movement on the screen faltered, the unmistakable outline of what appeared to be a fishtail skittering off the page in a wild arc. Mister V erased it, then started over again. “I wouldn’t know. She died when I was fourteen.”“Oh, fuck. I’m sorry,” Nathan blurted out, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut. This was why he didn’t talk to people. He always seemed to find a way to put his foot in his mouth. “I didn’t mean to—”“It’s all right,” Mister V assured him. “It was a long time ago. If it helps, I’ve been asking myself the same question for a while. I miss her, but she wasn’t the best guiding influence. I think she would have wanted me to be happy, though, which is more than my father cares about.”“Yeah.” Nathan glanced at his phone again. Suddenly, replying to his mother’s texts felt much more important. He looked up at the screen and did a double take when he realized what he was looking at. “That’s Sue!” he exclaimed.“Sure is,” Mister V replied, amused.“She’s a mermaid!”“She sure is.”Ready to sink ships and ruin lives. Nathan had forgotten about the picture he’d sent of her to Mister V. Clearly, Mister V hadn’t. “How the fuck are you doing that from memory?” he demanded, pulling his laptop screen closer to watch as her familiar features emerged on the screen. She’d been posed with her arms raised, faithfully capturing the toned muscles in her back and shoulders as deft fingers combed through waves of wet hair. Like she’d just surfaced from beneath the ocean. It wasn’t an exact likeness—the mermaid tail and the slitted gills along her ribcage precluded that—but the facial features were uncanny. Her smile was a wicked sharp thing Nathan knew to be accurate but soft too, balanced by the dimples in her cheeks and the way her eyes creased when she laughed. It was all there; he realized—every freckle, every curl, even the tiny scar under her left eye. Every minute detail lovingly rendered from memory.It made something hot squiggle in Nathan’s stomach.Envy, maybe? Compersion? Some strange mix of the two?He’d known for quite some time that what Ursula and Mister V had was far more profound than the connection he shared with the other man. Nathan had been too reticent, too comfortable to sit back and let things unfold between them while he watched. Happy for them but unable to push through his insecurities to strike up a conversation, let alone flirt. Nathan just hadn’t known what to do. He and Ursula had never shared an interest in someone before, and truthfully, Nathan wasn’t even sure mister V even liked him that way. They got on, and he was always polite, but Nathan also knew that plenty of men clicked on their sugaring profile for Ursula and Ursula alone. Hardly anyone had humored his existence until Mister V came along. Even then, they acted more like metamours, hinged together by their mutual attachment to Ursula. Which was fine; Mister V didn’t owe him anything. If he wasn’t attracted to Nathan, there was nothing Nathan could do about it. Ursula had tried with previous would-be-doms to enforce his inclusion, which was fine from a sugaring aspect, but not how polyamory worked. Not properly. You couldn’t demand attention from someone because they were flirting with your partner. That was how shitty unicorn hunters acted, and Nathan would rather cut off his right arm than coerce someone into that kind of situation. It had to happen naturally, or not at all, though it’d be a lie to say Nathan didn’t regret not trying harder in the beginning.Now it just felt too late.He watched Mister V work in silence for a while. If the other man minded the lack of chatter, he didn’t say. He’d just started to play around with the colors of the mermaid’s tail, creating a vivid gradient of rainbow scales, when Nathan spoke up again. “This has been nice.”“Yes, it has,” Mister V agreed. “I’d say we did all right on our own for a pair of introverts. Gold stars all around.”Nathan huffed softly. “Yeah, I supposed we did.” He paused, then added, “Thank you, by the way.”“For what?”“For sticking around. I know I’m not as fun as Ursula.”The paintbrush halted on the screen. It was still so long that Nathan wondered if Discord might’ve crashed. Eventually, Mister V said, “Is that what you think?”Nathan shrugged. “I mean, it’s true, isn’t it? It’s all right; I’m used to it. I know I’m not as…”“Not as what?”“I dunno.” Nathan let out an uncomfortable burst of laughter. He should have kept his mouth shut. “Look, it’s fine. Forget I said anything.”“No, I don’t think I will,” Mister V replied. His tone wasn’t cross, but that authoritative note was back, and Nathan felt like he was in trouble, anyway. “Nathan, why do you think I wouldn’t want to talk to you without Ursula present?”Nathan opened his mouth, the words creaking apart in his throat and turning into another nervous crack of laughter. “I just… that’s what usually happens. Maybe not as much in real life, but with the sugaring thing… It’s obvious people are only interested in the incredibly hot, extroverted blonde. And that’s fine; I get it. If it were between her and me, I’d pick Ursula too. She’s the main attraction, and I’m just, y’know, whatever. It’s fine, really. I didn’t mean to make it into a thing. I just wanted to thank you for not bailing even though I know this wouldn’t be your first choice.”Silence hung between them, fresh with newfound awkwardness. Nathan blinked when the screen flickered, a new canvas popping up. He didn’t know why Mister V was starting over, but he thought it was a shame. The mermaid sketch had been almost perfect.“Nathan,” Mister V began, the cursor already moving, “that’s not what is happening.”Nathan hesitated. “It’s… it’s not?”“Not even remotely. Do you want to know something, Nathan?” Mister V carried on, his casual tone belying the dizzying speed of his work. He was moving so fast Nathan could barely track the cursor. Mister V didn’t wait for him to answer. “If I’d wanted to talk to a pretty blonde on that sugaring app, I could have thrown a rock and hit ten right off the bat. I didn’t, though. In fact, I didn’t click on anyone until I happened upon your profile. Would you like to know why?”“Why?”“Ursula wasn’t facing forward. It seems like a silly detail to notice, I know. She’s gorgeous too, of course; there’s no denying that. But all the other pretty blondes were staring outward, smiling at the viewer. She wasn’t. She was smiling over her shoulder, looking up, and I just… I needed to know what could make someone smile like that. Like they had the entire sun shining out of them. So, I clicked on her, and do you know what I saw?”Nathan swallowed, his heart hammering out a wild staccato beat at the base of his throat when he realized what, or more precisely who, Mister V was drawing. “What?” he asked.“You.”It was rough and ragged, rendered unrefined by haste, but there was no mistaking the likeness. The hair was too unruly, the grin too lopsided, and the nose too busted and crooked to be anyone else. Nathan stared at the portrait, taking in the indolent slouch of his own posture: one arm spread out along the back of something solid, likely their couch. His head was cocked to the side in an easy grin, and his other arm held his right knee close to his chest. It was the photo from the sugaring app, Nathan realized, the only solo shot of him they’d uploaded.Mister V had remembered it.“I’m not interested in playing favorites, Nathan; I never have been,” Mister V carried on, his tone still light and conversational. Like he hadn’t just mapped out Nathan’s entire fucking face from memory in less than ten minutes. He carried on speaking. “And I apologize if I ever gave you the impression that you were second best or that I wasn’t interested in getting to know you. In my defense, though, I’ve never attempted to court two people at once before, and I did say I’d let you dictate the nature of our interactions.”Court, Nathan thought. It sounded so formal, but then, that was Mister V all over. Formal and overly polite to a fault. So, of course, he’d never interacted with Nathan the way he had with Ursula; Nathan had never given him any indication it’d be welcome.Nathan drew in a shuddering breath, not sure what to say. “Well, that was your first mistake,” he laughed. He’d meant it as a joke, intending to own up and correct himself and admit his failure to communicate in his next breath, but Mister V beat him to it.“No, I’m afraid I made a lot of mistakes before that,” he said, sounding sincerely regretful. “Not making you aware of my regard for you is merely one of them. So if you will allow me to make it clear now? I have always been interested in getting to know you, Nathan. And not just as an extension of Ursula. You are witty, and clever and kind and astoundingly attractive—”Nathan let out an embarrassed burst of laughter, glad his camera was off so the other man couldn’t see the blush staining his cheeks. “I dunno about that last part…”“I do,” Mister V replied. His tone dropped to a low, silken purr that made the hair on the back of Nathan’s neck stand on end, a shiver racing down his spine. “And with all due respect, Nathan, I’ve been looking.”Face flaming, Nathan swallowed and cleared his throat. “Right,” he said, his voice sounding unnaturally cracked and high. “Well then, that’s uh, thank you?”“You are very welcome,” Mister V replied, regaining his usual cadence, though a hint of warmth still lingered in his inflection. “Do you need me to continue, or are we on the same page?”Nathan’s face grew even hotter. “No, no,” he said in a rush. “I think we’re good.” He allowed himself another small, weak laugh. He was a firm advocate of the virtues of praise and letting people know how much you admired them, yet somehow, he’d never considered how giddying it was on the other end. Ursula was right; they were more similar than he’d realized. She was going to be insufferable when he told her.His phone chimed loudly, startling Nathan out of his thoughts. He glanced down at it, reading the message from Ursula. It read, On my way!!! Please order food. I am Starving, followed by a string of hungry emojis.“Ursula?” Mister V guessed, evidently having heard the notification.“Yeah,” Nathan replied, answering her text and asking her what she wanted to eat. “She’s on her way home now.”“Well, I suppose I’d better hurry up then,” Mister V said.The image on their shared screen switched back to the drawing of Ursula, but not before the save icon appeared over Nathan’s impromptu portrait.It felt weirdly more important than it likely was, but Nathan smiled anyway.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
It was 5:15 on Monday morning when Vlad’s alarm went off. His hand groped out from under the covers and slapped the alarm off the nightstand. He was preparing to unfurl from his blankets and stagger into the shower when recollection pierced through the hazy cloud of sleep. Vlad was on vacation. He didn’t have to go to work today. He could go back to sleep. With a heartfelt groan, Vlad collapsed facedown against the pillows and pulled the covers over his head.Several hours later, he was rudely awoken by the sound of someone leaning on the doorbell with disgusting persistence. Groggy and disorientated, he rolled out of bed, checked to ensure he wore clothes, and padded barefoot down the stairs. “Coming,” he called, wincing when the buzzer started over again. “Oh my God,” he muttered when the person outside started knocking. Vlad wrenched the door open. “Yes?”“Mister, uh, Uladzimir Aleksei Blutstein?” the mail carrier on the other side of the door asked, only half mutilating Vlad’s full name on his tongue.“Who’s asking?” Vlad grumbled, scrubbing a hand over his face. A glance at his watch told him it was almost noon. No wonder he felt so dazed. Vlad had slept for over twelve hours.“Sign here,” the other man said, offering him a digital pad. Vlad, trained by the years of legal discourse that plagued his father’s company, faltered.“What am I signing for?”“Papers.” The carrier held up a thick manilla envelope, and Vlad recognized his divorce attorney’s stamp across the top.He took the digital pad and scrawled an illegible squiggle with his finger. “Thank you,” he said, handing it back and accepting the envelope.“Oh, here.” The other man stopped down before Vlad could shut the door. “There’s another package. Looks like Amazon.”“Thanks,” Vlad said, lifting the box from his grasp and bumping the door shut with his hip. Still half-asleep, Vlad moved into the kitchen, squinting at the brown box. He knew he was fixating on it to avoid the substantial weight of the envelope in his other hand, but Vlad also couldn’t remember buying anything from Amazon. For a brief second, he wondered if it was meant for Elizabeth, or perhaps the neighbor, until he spied the name on the delivery label: Mister V.It was his gift from Nathan and Ursula.Vlad dropped the envelope onto the counter and pulled a knife from the chopping block to slice open the package. A smaller white box was inside, along with a slip of paper. Vlad reached for that first, reading the note.
Thank you for letting us do something nice for you. You deserve it—U & N x.
Vlad smiled, pressing his thumb over the kiss. He still felt awkward about letting them buy him gifts, but he was determined to accept it for the kindness it was. He reached for the box first, flipping it over to reveal the swirling red font he remembered from childhood. It was written in both Imperial and old Blutverian, though Vlad didn’t try to read the latter. Instead, he lifted the box to his nose and sniffed. Even through the packaging, there was a discernable scent of ginger, which instantly transported Vlad back to his childhood. Memories of birthdays and Christmases at his grandmother’s house bobbed to the surface of his mind’s eye. If he focused, he could almost imagine the winter light streaming through the vine-covered kitchen windows and feel the warmth of the stone hearth at his back. Random images of paper-thin hands pouring coffee from a copper pot into blue, gold-rimmed cups surfaced next, unearthed by the scent of the box in his hands. He couldn’t remember his grandmother’s face—only the impression of her smile and the loud clatter of her bangles when she moved—but he recalled her house always smelled like fresh coffee, cardamom, and ginger like it was always Christmas, no matter the season.A moment of total happiness, frozen in time.Vlad opened his eyes, blinking rapidly. He told himself it was the stinging aroma of ginger making his eyes water, but he knew deep down that was a lie. For how little he remembered of her, his grandmother’s house had always felt like a haven. The overgrown garden had felt like a daring adventure to a little boy, and the colorful, gingerbread latticework that framed the exterior of her house was like something out of a fairytale. The witch’s cottage atop the hill, all gaudy and bright; a Blutverian eyesore amidst a sea of Imperial Suburbia and white picket fences.His mother had been better there. Calmer. Like the frantic buzz of the city wasn’t thrumming through her veins. Vlad had felt it, too, though that peace had died with his grandmother. After that, Vlad’s mother refused to return to the house save to attend the wake and take some souvenirs. Like the gold-rimmed cups and the coffee pot, the jezve, Vlad remembered, pulling the word from some dark recess of his mind that’d grown up listening to Blutverian but hadn’t uttered a word in decades.The gold-rimmed cups and the coffee pot Vlad still owned.At least he hoped he did.Gripped by a sudden need to check, Vlad turned, dragging a kitchen chair behind him as he hopped up and began rummaging through the ‘junk’ cupboard above the refrigerator. It was the cupboard where everything that didn’t match Elizabeth’s pure white aesthetic went to die. Vlad pulled out a seemingly endless collection of mismatched coffee cups, pressed glass, and a weird amount of novelty creamer jugs. He was just beginning to panic that Elizabeth might have gotten rid of it when his fingers brushed against a cardboard box at the back, and he heard a clink. Vlad pulled the box out and caught the distinctive glint of blue and gold swaddled in protective layers of yellowing tissue paper. Moving like he was carrying a bomb, Vlad climbed down, set the box on the counter, and unraveled the precious contents. By some miracle, all six cups and saucers were still intact, though some of the gold plating looked a little worn and thin in places. Other than that, there wasn’t a single chip or crack. He picked up the jezve next. It wasn’t his grandmother’s. His mother had replaced that one when she’d learned how unsafe it was to boil things in unlined copper. But it was still reassuringly solid and heavy, the stainless steel interior wrapped in a decorative layer of copper that still shone despite years of neglect. Vlad turned it over in his hands.He wondered if he still knew how to use it.On some level, Vlad knew he was still avoiding the letter from his lawyer. He could see it in his peripheral vision on the counter. A claxon of growing panic that could only be deferred for so long. But it was also suddenly the most imperative thing in the world that he make coffee in this pot. After all, this was supposed to be his week off. He was supposed to be taking things slowly. And if Vlad wanted to make Blutverian coffee from scratch and drink from his grandmother’s heirloom cups by God, that’s what he would do. He should also eat something other than rocket-fuel-strength coffee and chocolate fire ginger cookies. After all, Vlad was, in theory, a competent adult.In theory.He stood frozen for several seconds, trying to determine which task to do first. He couldn’t put the coffee pot or the cups in the dishwasher, but he couldn’t put them in the sink either. Not until he’d cleared out last night’s dishes and put them in the dishwasher. This also meant Vlad needed to empty the dishwasher of Saturday’s dishes before he could even think about making food… or did he? Vlad blinked, allowing the thought bubble to form. Moving slowly, as though he might scare the thought away if he moved too quickly, Vlad pulled open the dishwasher. It was only half full and nothing he needed right away. Vlad could, in theory, leave them where they were, add the extra dishes from the sink, and just rewash it all. Couldn’t he?Lazy, the thought struck him like a slap to the face.It was lazy, wasn’t it? After all, how hard was it to empty the dishwasher? Hard enough, it seemed, that Vlad couldn’t do it. Pathetic, the voice in his head spat, stupid, lazy, worthless. If you just tried harder… Try harder. Try harder. Try harder.Vlad screwed his eyes shut, willing the voice to shut up. He’d never noticed before now, but it sounded an awful lot like his father. “Fuck you,” he muttered and began loading the dirty dishes from the sink in with the clean. Honestly, what did it matter if some dishes got washed twice? It didn’t. It didn’t matter one iota. It just meant they’d be extra clean. And wasn’t that better than leaving dirty dishes to molder in the sink because Vlad would rather go back to bed hungry than empty the dishwasher? Surely being functionally dysfunctional was better than nothing? It had to be. So why did this feel like he was committing some cardinal sin of adulting? Brains, Vlad decided, were fucking weird.With the sink cleared, Vlad set about washing the coffee pot and delicate cups in the sink, taking care to set them down gently on the drying wrack. Leaving them to dry, Vlad moved on to the task of feeding himself. There wasn’t much left in the refrigerator; he needed to place a grocery order, but there was some fruit and yogurt that needed to be used up. It wasn’t half bad when you considered that his usual Monday morning breakfast consisted of two cigarettes and a coffee before 7 am. Then, because he didn’t trust his memory, he Googled how to make coffee the old-fashioned way. It turned out to be a surprisingly soothing ritual: grinding the coffee beans and cardamon seeds down to a fine powder; measuring out the water; adding the sugar—the only time Vlad added sugar to coffee—stirring the mixture until it came to a frothy boil, filling the kitchen with the scent of warmth and comfort. When it was ready, he poured it out into one of the small blue cups and carried everything outside where the afternoon sun was high in the sky, and a pleasant breeze tugged at Vlad’s sleep clothes.He sat down under the sheltered porch and set the coffee and cookies on the wrought-iron table next to the porch swing. With nothing else to distract him, Vlad finally turned his attention to the manilla envelope. It turned out not to be anything he wasn’t already expecting—merely an exact copy of everything he’d signed for the week before. An official record of his divorce petition, a list of their assets, and details of their prenup. The stated grounds for the petition: irreconcilable differences. Details of the restraining order he’d filed against Elizabeth, all there in black and white, real in his hands. And soon to be in Elizabeth’s as well.Vlad swallowed.It’d be too much to hope she wouldn’t contest it in court. She had too much to win by dragging him to court, no matter how slow and painful the process would be. And Elizabeth had never backed down from a fight. The last seventeen years of their life together were testament enough to that. He’d toyed briefly with the idea of filing for an at-fault divorce on the grounds of adultery, but considering he’d also admitted to having an affair, he doubted that would benefit him. His lawyer had suggested they try on the grounds of abuse, but there, too, Vlad suspected he’d be up against a brick wall. After all, who was a court going to believe? The version of events told by a known addict with a juvenile record as long as his arm? Or the patient, long-suffering spouse who’d put up with him for close to twenty years? Either way, he was fucked, but at least this way, it was by choice. His choice. And no matter how much it hurt, Vlad knew this was the right decision. For both of them. Elizabeth would get her settlement and be free to do whatever—or whomever—she wanted, and with time, and a hell of a lot more therapy, so would Vlad.Freedom was not yet within his grasp, but it was there, hovering on the horizon. Tangible and within reach. Vlad just had to keep moving toward it, one step at a time, one day at a time. The same way he handled every other day. He sighed and turned his attention to the cooling coffee on the table and the box of cookies beside it. What was that meme Riya kept sending him? Ah, yes. He’d completed a series of routine tasks, been very brave about it, and now it was time for a treat. Vlad didn’t quite moan when he bit into the cookie, but it was a close thing. The bitter dark chocolate melted on his tongue, the slight sting of the salt chased away by the fiery kick of the ginger underneath. Vlad crunched happily through the rest, licking his thumb and forefinger where some of the chocolate had melted. He was about to reach for his coffee to wash it down when a sudden notion struck him. Vlad selected another cookie from the box, placed it down on the side of the saucer, and fished his phone out of his sweatpants. He felt ludicrous, taking a picture of his coffee like some Instagram person, but Vlad still remembered how happy he’d felt whenever Ursula posted photos of the things he sent to them. It seemed only fair to return the gesture.Thank you for the gift, he typed out, attaching the image to the text. He hesitated momentarily, added a smiley emoji, and hit send. A giddy twist of something he couldn’t name fluttered in his chest.Then, because he had been very brave and kind to himself this morning—not to mention productive—Vlad reached for the second cookie, dunked the edge of it into his coffee, leaned back in the porch swing, and allowed himself the luxury of doing absolutely nothing for the entire rest of the day.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The following morning dawned clear and bright, and Vlad slept straight through it. He’d felt groggy the whole of Monday, lost without the structure of his weekly routine to fill the hours. Vlad had tried reading one of the self-help books Allan kept pushing, but after reading the same paragraph six or seven times and absorbing none of it, Vlad gave up and went back to bed. He still felt tired this morning. Bone weary to his core, but in a cleaner, less murky sort of way. As though someone had taken his brain out and rinsed it while he slept.“That’ll be the reduction in stress hormones,” Allan informed him. They were sitting atop the stone steps leading to the church’s back entrance. The AA meeting had ended some time ago, but Allan always liked to linger, and he liked Vlad to stay with him. For decompression, he called it. It felt strange being here during the day. Vlad thought he might prefer it, even if it had taken everything in him to crawl out of bed this morning. Afternoon. Whatever.God, he wanted a nap.Vlad took a sip from the shitty black coffee always served at these meetings. It was like drinking pure acid in a paper cup. “From sleep?”“Oh yes. Sleep is a wonderful healer—one of the most powerful restoratives we have for both mind and body,” Allan chirped. It wasn’t quite a lecturing tone, but Vlad knew he was about to get given one, anyway. “It’s quite fascinating, really. For all our medical advancements, it’s the one thing we cannot substitute. I read a study once that completely changed my view on sleep. Fascinating stuff. It was about the effects of sleep deprivation on the brain. Did you know it takes four days of consistent sleep to recover from a single lost hour?”Vlad paused, the paper cup halfway to his lips. “Really?”“I was shocked when I read it,” Allan admitted. “It put all those late hours I was putting in at the surgery into perspective and why I struggled so much with recovery back then. I even tested it on myself. I measured my daytime cortisol for several months. It took almost six months of working on my sleep hygiene for the inflammation markers to go down.”Vlad stared at his coffee, doing some mental arithmetic. “So, I’m guessing four hours of sleep for the last five to ten years would be terrible then?”“Oh, my word! Yes! Like flash-frying the brain in cortisol. Why do you ask?”“No reason,” Vlad said and tipped his coffee onto the ground. It wasn’t helping him, anyway. The first coffee of the day always seemed to make him more tired, anyway. It wasn’t until he was on his fourth cup that Vlad felt awake; even then, he was more jittery than anything else. Maybe he should try that supplement, Dr. Lestrange had suggested. What was it called again? Melatonin? Perhaps that would help. Also, what the fresh hell was ‘sleep hygiene’ supposed to mean? It was probably in one of those books Allan kept giving him. Vlad should read those.They sat in silence for a while, then Allan asked, “So, how are things going with, um, things?”Vlad pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific. There are a lot of things happening at the moment.”“Any of it,” Allan said. “Whatever you feel comfortable talking about.”“I got my copy of the divorce papers in the mail yesterday.” Vlad let out an explosive sigh. It still felt overwhelming. He doubted it would ever stop. “Which means Elizabeth will get served soon. God help me.”Allan made a sympathetic sound. “Just remember, no matter what happens, you’re doing the right thing.”“I know, it’s just… hard.” Vlad hugged his knees to his chest and buried his face against them. “I hate it.”Allan gave him a companionable pat on the back. “You’ll get through. We’ll make sure of it.”Vlad looked up and quirked a curious eyebrow at him. “We?”“Of course!” Allan nodded. “I’m here for you, Vlad. I’m here to support your sobriety and anything that might threaten it. For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you. The things you’re doing are difficult, but you’re doing them, anyway. That’s half the battle.”“Thank you,” Vlad murmured, an unexpected lump forming in his throat.“Are things still going well with Dr. Lestrange?” the other man asked.Vlad cleared his throat and swiped at his eyes. “Yeah. She’s good. I’m seeing her tomorrow.”“Good.” Allan gave him another pat, this time on the knee. “I’m glad to hear it. I was hoping you’d mesh well. She’s not for everyone.”“You mean the office that looks like a witch’s lair?” Vlad asked. “Or her complete lack of sugar-coating when she calls me out on my bullshit?”Allan chuckled. “Both.”Silence resumed, and Vlad listened to the sound of the city buzz around them. The sound of cars, distant sirens, and the drone of roadworks thrumming in the distance. But it was still no match for the whirring noise inside his head. He looked up at the sky, allowing his gaze to unfocus. It’d been bright earlier, but now the sky was overcast and gray, the promise of rain heavy in the air. He wondered what Nathan and Ursula were up to or if they’d found a new place to live. Vlad hated not being allowed to help them, but he respected their wishes to manage things independently.Vlad knew what it was like to rely on someone else for everything. Privileged as his upbringing had been, that hadn’t kept Vlad’s father from holding their wealth over his head like a scythe. The constant threat of being cut off and being made to beg for money to go see his friends or buy new clothes was just another means of garnering compliance. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, and Vlad didn’t like to think he’d ever made them feel that way, even if all he’d wanted to do was help.He thought that was probably something he should bring up in therapy at some point.“Got any plans for the rest of the day?” Allan asked, interrupting his maudlin thoughts.“Getting a haircut.” Vlad reached up and ran a self-conscious hand through his hair. He usually got it trimmed every few weeks, preferring to keep it short and uniform. It’d been… eight weeks now since his last trim. Twelve? Long enough for Vlad’s hair to curl around the nape of his neck and fall into his eyes. He’d gotten around it by slicking it back with copious amounts of gel, but even that method was starting to fail. He added, “Then I’m supposed to be having dinner with my father and Lady M. Seen as how we’re not going to a meeting tonight.”“Well, that should be… pleasant,” Allan offered hesitantly. Vlad snorted.“Yeah, we’ll see.” He paused, wondering if he should ask what Allan was doing for a change. The line between friend and sponsor was a hazy one, sometimes. Vlad burned through several sponsors before being paired with Allan. Some had tried to be his friend but had ultimately ended up enabling him by not wanting to hurt his feelings. Others made it abundantly clear they weren’t there to be his friend, and anything outside of the twelve-step program was inappropriate territory to discuss. This had left Vlad feeling isolated and though not enabled, had still resulted in relapses. Allan was different, though. A strange mix of friendly but firm professionalism that, for whatever reason, Vlad’s brain responded to. He’d wondered if it was because the other man used to be a doctor but had quickly dismissed the notion. Vlad had seen countless doctors in his youth for addiction, and none of them had been like Allan. Perhaps, if they had been, it might not have taken him so long to get sober. Or maybe he just hasn’t been ready yet. He liked Allan, though, and Vlad suspected they might have been good friends under different circumstances in another time, another world.It was a nice thought.“What about you?” he asked, trying to sound casual. “What are you up to tonight?”Allan blinked at him, his expression brightening noticeably. “Oh, I’ll probably make an early night of it. Curl up with the cat and read a book.”“You have a cat?” Vlad asked, hoping Allan hadn’t told him before and he’d forgotten.“Oh yes! Here!” The other man pulled his phone out and handed it to Vlad. The lock screen showed a fat silver tabby cat. It was wearing a fluffy pink bow and looked decisively murderous about it. “Her name is Gizmo. Gizmo de la Cruz if she’s in trouble.”Vlad blinked. “As in Guillermo ‘Gizmo’ de la Cruz? From What We Do In The Shadows?”Allan’s expression brightened even further. “Yes! Oh, are you a fan too? Have you seen the latest season?”“Yes,” Vlad said, smiling softly. It’d been the last thing he’d watched with Ursula and Nathan.Allan clapped his hands together. “What fun! I swear I used to work with someone just like Colin Robinson. What did you think of the last episode?”Vlad handed the other man his phone back and tipped his head up to the sky as he felt the first few splatters of rainfall. “I think I’m excited to see where things lead to next.”Soon, what started as a gentle smattering of rain turned into a torrential downpour, and both Allan and Vlad said their goodbyes and hurried to their respective cars. Vlad sat behind the steering wheel and tried to shake the rainwater from his hair. A glance in the rearview mirror told him the gel in his hair was already giving up the ghost, the dark strands curling and frizz and making him look even more like this mother than usual. Even more reason to cut it all off, he thought.Or was it?Vlad stared at himself for several seconds longer, then pushed the wavy mess out of his face and buckled himself in. If he didn’t start driving now, he’d be late for his hair appointment with Angelo, and the other man hated to be kept waiting. Mercifully, the roads were quiet at this time of day, and Vlad pulled up outside the sleek glass box of a building on time. Just.“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.”Vlad looked up to find Angelo waiting for him at the front desk, his bare arms folded over his chest. He was trying to look stern, frowning at Vlad over the top of an impressively waxed and styled handlebar mustache, but Vlad knew better. Angelo had been cutting Vlad’s hair for years and, though he styled himself like some muscled, vintage strongman from the 1900s, was about as threatening and intimidating as a teddy bear.“Angelo,” Vlad greeted him, allowing the assistant that came up behind him to peel him out of his leather jacket. The rain hadn’t let up in the drive over, and Vlad’s mad dash from car to the door had only made him even soggier.“You don’t call, you don’t text,” the other man said, affecting a nagging tone even as a broad smile broke over his face. “I was starting to think you were having an affair with another stylist.”Vlad spluttered with laughter. “No, not quite.”Angelo arched an eyebrow at him. “Well, never mind, you’re here now.” He gestured Vlad forward with a sweep of a muscled, tattooed arm, leading him toward the wall of mirrors at the back of the salon. No sooner had Vlad sat down in the barber chair than a protective cape was swooshed around his front, and Angelo had his fingers in Vlad’s hair. “You’ve been holding out on me,” the other man accused, catching Vlad’s eye in the mirror. “I am offended.”“How do you mean?”Angelo wound a prominent curl around his finger and let it spring back to Vlad’s scalp. “All these years, you’ve been getting me to shear everything off once a month, and you’ve been hiding this.”Vlad arched an eyebrow at him in the mirror’s reflection. “A drowned rat’s nest?” he asked.Angelo snorted and gave him a soft, reproachful tap on the shoulder. “Do you know how much money people spend to have one-tenth of this volume and texture?” He ran his fingers through Vlad’s hair again, plumping it up until it fell into its natural parting, causing it to flop over his right eye and giving Vlad flashbacks to high school. “You’ve got such good bone structure, too. You could really pull off something dramatic if you wanted to.”Dramatic, Vlad thought. He’d been called that before, but never as a compliment. Vlad eyed himself closer in the mirror, trying to see what Angelo saw. The current state of his hair aside, Vlad didn’t think he looked terrible. A little older and paler than he’d like, but even he could see the difference a few nights’ sleep had made. The shadows under his eyes were still there, but they were less pronounced. Less bruised. As for bone structure, well, there was no getting away from that. His entire face was composed of sharp angles: the prominent brow and nose he’d inherited from his father and the high cheekbone and vulpine set of his jaw he’d inherited from his mother that’d lead to him being called ‘pretty’ rather than handsome for most of his teens and well into his twenties. Back when he’d worn his hair in a dramatic undercut and still had his ears pierced.Vlad bit his lip and pushed down on the swell of impulsiveness he could feel building in his chest. Terrible things happened when he gave into that feeling.Not always, said the voice in the back of his head—the one he’d since realized wasn’t always the voice of disastrous temptation but self-preservation.“I’m serious, you know,” Angelo carried on, sounding resigned as he pulled out the clippers and set them to Vlad’s usual setting. “It’s obviously too long now, but oh, the things I could do with a little shaping and fading…”Vlad bit his lip harder. It’s hair, said the same voice. Hair grows….With a slight nod, Vlad again caught Angelo’s eye in the mirror. “All right, what would you suggest?”Angelo’s answering grin was feral. *“Well, someone’s looking dapper this evening,” Lady Margarete pronounced as Vlad walked in the door.Vlad’s hand went to his hair, ruffling through it self-consciously. “Oh, thank you.”It wasn’t the severe undercut of his teenage years, but it was close. Angelo had called it a modified faux hawk: the back and sides left just long enough to add some texture, while the lengthier strip on top was subtly blended, adding extra volume and lift. Angelo had scrunched some product into it, emphasizing the natural wave of Vlad’s hair for a more youthful look, though he’d assured Vlad he could also slick it back for a more sophisticated look at the office. To Vlad’s surprise, he didn’t hate it. In fact, he rather liked it. But that didn’t mean he was confident about it.He cleared his throat and forced himself to stop mussing it up. “I, uh, thought it was time for a change.”Lady Margarete tottered toward him, one of her many small dogs in her arms. She leaned in, pressing habitual air kisses to either side of his cheek. The dog Mitzy, Vlad remembered, took the opportunity to lick him squarely on the chin. “It suits you,” his stepmother said, smiling as she reached up to tweak an errant curl out of his face. “You look exactly how I remember you when we first met.”Vlad gave her a droll look. “That bad, huh?”The first day Vlad met Lady Margarete, he’d been suspended and sent home from school for fighting. His knuckles had been scraped raw, his lip split, and his eyes were blackening from a bloodied nose. Vlad’s father had been furious, but Lady Margarete had taken it all in her stride. She’d taken one look at his busted face and bloodied knuckles and asked where they kept the iodine. It’d been the start of a tenuous, one-sided relationship, with Vlad doing his utmost to self-destruct and Lady Margarete quietly trailing behind him and picking up the pieces. Vlad suddenly wished he’d been kinder to her. He hoped he’d grown kinder.Lady Margarete’s eyes creased in a smile, flapping a hand at him as she set the wriggling dog on the floor. “Don’t be silly. You’ve never looked bad.”“Then you have a kind memory,” Vlad replied, following her down the hall and into the kitchen, with Mitzy skittering at his heels. “What’s for dinner?”“I made your father’s favorite. Cornish hens and roasted vegetables.”Hens, Vlad mouthed, realizing he was likely expected to eat an entire bird by himself. “Sounds good,” he said aloud, not daring to ask what she’d made for dessert. They entered the kitchen, where Vlad’s father sat at the table in the corner, his wheelchair close by. As they approached, the older man looked up, and his gaze skittered dismissively over his wife before landing on Vlad.His visible disapproval was immediate.“What’s all this then?”“What’s all what?” Vlad asked, draping his jacket over the back of the chair Lady Margarete ushered him into. He was determined to avoid losing his cool like a teenager, even if that was how he currently felt under his father’s stern glower. Instead, Vlad focused on the impressive spread of food on the table. As usual, Lady Margarete had made enough to feed a small army. The table was laden with a decorative roasting dish filled with perfectly browned meat and crispy-looking vegetables. There was gravy, too, a jug of water, and what appeared to be a bottle of sparkling fruit juice in place of wine. Vlad gave her a curious look, but Lady Margarete merely smiled.However, his father was not easily deterred and gestured disparagingly at Vlad’s hair, conveying a lifetime of paternal disappointment in a single gesture. “This. That… mop on your head.”“I think he looks handsome,” Lady Margarete interjected, already dishing food onto their empty plates. Vlad was indeed given an entire roasted hen to eat on his own, and he sighed inwardly. Oh well, at least he’d have leftovers…The Count’s glower landed on her. “Strange, I don’t recall asking for your opinion.”Vlad opened his mouth to protest his father’s rudeness, but Lady Margarete just steamrolled over him with fatalistic cheerfulness. “Oh, don’t be such a grump. Of course, he’s handsome. He takes after his father; how could he be anything else?”Vlad rankled internally, but the Count grunted, mollified. They ate silently for several minutes, the only sound in the room the gentle scrape of cutlery against plates. Then, Vlad’s father said, “Well, I hope your new chippy approves. You look like a queer.”“Anton.” Lady Margarete hissed, downing her knife and fork with a scandalized clatter.Vlad breathed through his nose and swallowed the bite of food in his mouth. When he looked up, he fixed his father with a cold, unblinking stare. “I seem to recall asking you not to use that word.”“What word?” his father asked, feigning wide-eyed innocence.“You know that word,” Vlad growled.“Vlad—” Lady Margarete began but trailed off when Vlad held up a warning finger.“No, really,” his father continued, holding his arms wide. “What word do you object to?”“Chippy,” Vlad said. “Chippy is not a nice thing to call someone, and I know you know that. Otherwise, you wouldn’t keep using it. Kindly refrain from using it again or any other vulgarity of the sort, or it’ll be the last time you ever see me at this table again. Do I make myself clear? As for the other comment? I know you don’t mean it kindly, but thank you for the compliment. It’s nice to finally have some acknowledgment. Pass the salt, please, Lady M.”Vlad felt the weight of the saltshaker being pressed into his hand, but he didn’t break eye contact with his father. The Count held his gaze. He looked angry—pale and flushed all at once, but Vlad also thought he saw a faint, begrudging flicker of respect there, too. When it became clear Vlad would not be the first to back down, his father grunted and returned his attention to the food.“Wonderful spread, Maggie,” he said, tucking into his plate like nothing had happened.“Yes,” Vlad agreed. He added a dash of salt to his food and turned a bright smile toward his stepmother. “Lovely as always, thank you.”Lady Margarete glanced back and forth between father and son like a bomb diffuser who’d just opened a suspicious package to find a custard pie inside. “You’re welcome,” she said. “There’s tiramisu for after.”“Sounds perfect,” Vlad replied, still smiling. He reached for his glass of water, aware that his steady hand didn’t reflect the raw rattle of nerves shaking him apart inside.This was definitely something he would have to talk about in therapy tomorrow.After dinner, Vlad tried to help Lady Margarete with the dishes but was shooed away with matronly haste. “Don’t be silly, dear,” she said, flapping a hand at him when Vlad tried to load the dishwasher. “You’re a guest!”“In my childhood home?” Vlad protested, but Lady Margarete was not about to be swayed.“Leave her be,” his father called from the next room. “She has her way of doing things. You’ll only do it wrong.”Vlad sighed and traipsed into the family room. There was an eye-watering amount of leopard print everywhere—as was Lady Margarete’s style—but Vlad still preferred it over the austere white marble and minimalist furniture the Count’s previous wife had installed however many decades ago. He flumped down on the couch farthest from his father’s chair and tipped his head back with a groan. “God, I’m full.”His father made a non-committal sound, already dozing. The old man barely ate anything at dinner, although that was nothing new. These days it was a struggle to get him to swallow enough applesauce to take his meds. Vlad cracked one eye open and took in his father’s appearance. The Count had always been a large man. Tall like Vlad, but broader, built like an ox, and just as bullheaded. It was worrying to see him looking so frail. The miserable, bigoted fucker.The couch cushion dipped, and Vlad rolled his head to face the opposite direction to find Mitzy beside him. There was a toy in the Pomeranian’s mouth, and she dropped it hopefully into his lap. “Oh yeah?” Vlad asked, smiling lazily as he dangled the toy above her nose, just out of reach. “Got to be quicker than that,” he said, dangling it closer before pulling it away again before she could sink her tiny gremlin teeth into it. Mitzy snorted at him, tail wagging furiously. Vlad threw the toy to the other side of the couch and watched, amused as she scrambled after it. He wasn’t sure what prompted him to pull out his phone. Force of habit, perhaps. But as Mitzy returned to drop the toy in his lap again, Vlad found himself aiming the camera at her smooshed little face. “Smile.”Mitzy sneezed in response, and Vlad threw the toy across the room. The little dog took off after it, snorting like congested bellows. It made sense to send the picture to Riya. She loved getting pictures of all their stepmother’s rescue dogs, but what Vlad couldn’t rationalize was his impulse to send it to Nathan and Ursula. They’d enjoyed his picture yesterday. Ursula had flooded their thread with questions, wanting to know what he was drinking, why his coffee looked like that, and whether the cookies were good. Nathan had simply liked the image, a single heart appearing on Vlad’s screen. After that, the conversation died, and Vlad didn’t know how to rekindle it.You could try sharing more of your life with them, said that same little voice from before. Bolder and more confident now. Reach out to them first rather than always being passive…Vlad bit his lip and opened their text thread. After another moment of deliberation, he attached the picture of Mitzy and hit send. He didn’t have long to wait for a response.OH MY GOD!!! Ursula’s response cascaded across his screen in all caps. IT’S A BABY!!! HI BABY!!!Vlad grinned. Her enthusiasm for everything was still catching, even after all these months. Say hello to Mitzy, he texted back. She’s my stepmother’s dog.MITZY!!! HELLO MITZY!!!Nathan’s icon appeared on his screen. That is not a dog, the younger man wrote. That is a sentient piece of lint.SHUT UP; SHE’S PERFECT!! Ursula’s response came back before Vlad could reply. Nathan lol’d in response. Ursula kept typing. She’s a sweet precious angel, and I love her. Please tell her how much I love her.Will do, Vlad replied, still smiling stupidly. He was just about to ask how they were when he realized he had more to share than a single picture of Mitzy. Hold up, he texted back. We’re going on an adventure.Vlad rolled onto his feet and wandered through the house to the back conservatory, where the sound of yapping grew considerably louder. He opened the door, and a flood of fluffy bodies came barreling toward him in a cacophony of yipping. Vlad held his phone up and hit record on his phone as he kneeled down and tried to pet as many small dogs as possible.
Say hello to the pack.
Ursula’s reply was instant. OH MY GOD, WHERE ARE YOU??? HEAVEN?!?!?!Vlad chuckled and tapped out a response, doubling over as a toy poodle used his back as a springboard to get up onto the nearby couch. No, he replied. I’m at my parents’ house. My stepmother rescues and rehabilitates small dogs and then re-homes them. He paused. Most of them, at least.Oh, neat, Nathan replied, while Ursula responded with a string of crying emojis.“What on earth is—oh. Vlad.” He looked around to see Lady Margarete standing in the doorway, her expression turning from bemused to relieved. “Thank goodness it’s you. I thought for one awful second, they’d figures out how to turn the latch.”Vlad snorted and shoved his phone away. The toy poodle bumped into him again, and he sat down heavily on his butt, folding his legs up beneath him. “Sorry, I felt like seeing them.”“No, no. it’s fine.” She came to join him, kneeling beside him. “The poor dears need all the love they can get. Don’t we, my loves? Yes, we do, yes, we do. Especially this one.” She reached out and scooped up a tiny dog, a Shih Tzu, Vlad thought, though he’d never seen one so threadbare and scrawny. Like a mop that’d seen better days. “This is Holly. She came into the shelter last month. She’s our most recent puppy mill rescue. Don’t take it personally if she won’t let you pet her,” Lady Margarete advised as Vlad held his hand out to the trembling dog. “She’s terrified of men.”“Hello, Holly,” Vlad said softly, moving his hand forward until his fingers were within sniffing distance. To his surprise, perhaps even Holly’s, she licked his fingertips.“Oh! Would you look at that!” Lady Margarete exclaimed. “She likes you! Here, try to hold her.”“Are you sure?” Vlad asked, but it didn’t matter. Holly was handed over into his lap, and Vlad found himself looking down at the saddest teddy bear in existence. He might be projecting, but Vlad thought he saw a pang of recognition in those sad, hopeful eyes. “Hey, little mop,” he murmured, gently stroking a hand down her trembling back. “Hey, it’s okay. No one’s going to hurt you. You’re safe, I promise.”Holly stared at him, then sneezed squarely in his face.“Ugh, thank you.” Vlad laughed, wiping a hand over his face. “Good thing I’ve had all my shots.” He turned to Lady Margarete to ask if the dog had all of her shots when he realized she was crying.“Sorry,” his stepmother said before he could say anything; her rouged cheeks turned crimson with emotion as she wiped at her eyes. “I’m being silly. You just looked so happy.”Vlad blinked. “What, right now?”“No. When I came in, you were on your phone. That was them, wasn’t it? The person you’re seeing…”Vlad hesitated, then nodded. He didn’t miss the gender-neutral pronouns she’d used. “Yes. That was them.”Lady Margarete nodded, a fresh wave of tears slipping down her face. Vlad reached out to pat her hand and found his fingers in a vice-like grip as she held onto him. “Do you know, I have never seen you smile like that? Not ever. Not even on your wedding day…” She trailed off, swiping at her eyes with her other hand. “Oh, Vlad. I’m so sorry. If I’d known how unhappy you were with Elizabeth…”“Hey, it’s okay,” Vlad reassured her and pulled his stepmother into the world’s most awkward side-hug. “It’s okay.”“For what it’s worth,” Lady Margarete said, still breathless between sobs as she squeezed him back, “even if it doesn’t work out, I already love them for making you smile like that. Whoever they are. And you’ll always have my support, no matter what. And your father’s too, even if he doesn’t show it.”“Somehow, I doubt that,” Vlad snorted and leaned out of the hug. He distracted himself by scratching Holly behind the ears. The fluffy mop of fur rumbled happily.Lady Margarete let him go and sat back on her heels. “He doesn’t mean what he says…”Vlad gave her an arch look. “Yes, he does. But it’s okay. I’m used to it. He’s never going to love all of me. I’ve always known that.”She looked like she wanted to argue more but kept silent. Eventually, she asked, “You are happy though, aren’t you, Vlad?”Vlad smiled softly. “No, but I’m learning how to be. Just like this little mop will, won’t you, Holly-Mop?” He looked down at Holly, chewing on the ties of his hoody. She looked up at him and raised her tail in a tentative wag.Lady Margarete laughed, the sound thick and stoppered with emotion. “I think she liked that. It suits her, too. Holly Mop.”“Yes,” Vlad agreed, still smiling as Holly Mop laid down in his lap with what Vlad liked to think was a contented sigh. “It does.”They sat silently for a while, then Lady Margarete said, “Your hair looks really nice.”Vlad nodded, his smile broadening ever so slightly. “Thank you. I like it too.”It might be the only thing he liked about himself right now, but it was a start.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Apartment hunting sucked.Ursula sat on the end of the stage, her legs swinging back and forth as she browsed through apartment listings on her phone. There weren’t many.“Find anything good?” Devon asked behind her.Ursula turned to look at them. “No, not unless by ‘good’ you mean an apartment that looks like a cupboard.” She sighed and tossed her phone down onto the pile of clothes beside her. “It’d be less like living together and more on top of each other.”“Cozy,” Devon commented, their voice straining upward as they set the aerial hoop they were hanging from into a spin. “Though I would have thought that wouldn’t be a problem for you and Nate.” They grinned as they swung past Ursula in a wobbly loop. “You could take it in turns.”Ursula frowned. “Turns for what?”“Being on top.”Ursula snorted and rolled her eyes. “Way ahead of you there.”Everyone at the club liked to tease them about how close they were. How quickly and hard they’d fallen for each other. They’d been living in each other’s pockets for several years now, and gladly so, but it’d still be nice to have some extra space.Devon snickered at their own joke. Ursula watched as they tried, then failed to swing themselves through the center of the hoop, dropping to the mat with a disgruntled thud. “Fuck. I swear I almost had it that time. How the fuck do you do this while taking your clothes off?”“Practice,” Ursula replied. She reached for her phone again and resumed her search. There was a house up on Forest Way that looked promising—suspiciously so for the rent price. She wondered how many bodies were buried in the backyard and decided it was probably worth it. She increased the search radius another five miles, then sighed when nothing new came up. Perhaps Nathan was right; maybe they should look outside the city and just eat the cost of public transit. The price and the time. Ursula tried again, expanding the search by another ten miles. She would find something in the city even if it killed her.“Gee, thanks,” Devon muttered in reply. They reached upward again, their fingers slipping off the hoop before their feet even left the floor. “God fucking dammit.”Ursula patted the stage beside her. “Come have some lunch. You won’t get anywhere if you pull a muscle from trying too hard.”Devon stomped over and dumped themselves down beside her. “I just want to get it right. We’ve only got a month left before the Halloween show.”“That’s plenty of time,” Ursula replied, liking another property on the app she was using and reaching blindly for the bag of takeout she’d brought. Devon grew tired of waiting and reached across her to claim the bag.“If you say so.”A salad bowl landed in her lap, jostling Ursula out of her apartment hunting trance. “Thanks.”Devon made a sound that might have been “you’re welcome” were it not for the mouthful of panini being shoved into their mouth. After a pause, they swallowed and said, “What about your totally-not-married-man? Couldn’t he help you find somewhere nicer?”Ursula abruptly closed her phone and focused on opening her salad. She stabbed the plastic fork through some lettuce, glaring down at it. She didn’t want to have this conversation, but she knew Devon wouldn’t let it drop. “Probably, if we asked him to.”“So, why aren’t you?” Devon crunched into the panini again, chewing loudly. “Isn’t that what he’s for?”Ursula continued to stab her food. “Because we’re not doing that anymore.”Devon stopped chewing. Somehow, the silence was more obnoxious. “Oh, shit. He really is married.”“Getting divorced, actually.” Ursula hated how defensive she sounded. She smiled sweetly. “So, you were only partly right.”“Oh, come on!” Devon scoffed, spewing crumbs everywhere and dropping their food back into its box. “You can’t be serious, Sue.”“Why not?”“Because they all say that!” Devon gestured to the empty dance floor as though encompassing an invisible audience of adulterers. “They all say they’re getting divorced. They all say they’ll leave their wives and never do!”“Well, this one is. And Mister V’s not doing it for us; he’s doing it for… other reasons,” Ursula replied, her tone as tart as the tomato she bit into. Nathan was right; Devon didn’t know Mister V, so what did it matter what they thought of him? Or her. She forced herself to swallow before carrying on. “And not that it’s any of your business, but we’re starting over as friends.”“Friends.” Devon sounded even more skeptical.“Yes. Friends. No more sugaring, just getting to know each other while we sort our respective lives out.”Which was far harder than Ursula cared to admit. She’d gotten used to her daily chats with Mister V. They’d become as routine as kissing Nathan good morning or stopping at Starbucks on her way to work. He was good company, whether by text or call, and Ursula missed it. She missed flirting with him, too. How sweetly flustered he’d get, or the way he’d laugh bashfully, the sound of his embarrassed smile thick in his voice. There’d been a few times more recently, however, where he’d given as good as he got. Usually, when Ursula’s bratting and teasing pushed him too far, and she caught a glimpse of the man who’d felt bold enough to suggest they call him ‘Sir.’Ursula could count on one hand the number of times someone had tipped her mood from bratty playfulness to contrite submission. It usually involved pain. Lots and lots of pain, but Mister V had achieved it several times with a single utterance. A stern ‘behave’ or a chiding tsk that set her heart racing and a pulse of heat throbbing between her thighs. The last time he’d done it, he’d even made her apologize. No one made Ursula apologize for bratting. At least not without a paddle and some serious forearm stamina. But she’d done it. She’d been so wet she almost slid out of her chair, but she’d apologized for bratting. And Mister V had hummed fondly, the low sound vibrating through her bones, and called her a good girl.It was a wonder she’d survived.Nathan was right; Mister V’s voice was criminally sexy. And now she didn’t get to enjoy it. Not in the same way. They barely talked at all, which Ursula knew wasn’t fair. His life was chaos, and so was theirs, but at least she and Nathan were dealing with stuff together. Ursula couldn’t imagine what Mister V was going through, the steps he had to take to keep himself safe and sober. It made her heart ache, and she worried about how much stress Mister V must be under. And yet, he still found time to do small things for them. Like the mermaid portrait he’d penned for her (now being used as her icon everywhere across social media) or the picture of the ornate coffee cup he’d sent them, a dark chocolate cookie balanced on the saucer. That’d been unexpected. Welcome, but surprising. It felt like a privilege. Like he’d cracked open the door of his personal life and allowed them to peek inside. Then he’d sent them the dog pics.Ursula picked up her phone again and scrolled back through their text thread. He’d fallen silent after the initial barrage of cuteness—likely talking to someone, Ursula assumed, perhaps his stepmother who rescued the dogs. But he’d sent them one more picture that night. Ursula pulled it up, studying the image for the millionth time. Like all the others, it was a live image, catching a frozen moment and playing it on an infinite loop for her perusal. Unlike all the others, this one was taken with the front-facing camera; the shot angled downward from above to show the upturned fluffy head of a tan-colored dog with dark brown ears and sad, dark eyes. Ursula had almost started crying until she realized what else she was looking at.Mister V had sent them a selfie.An obscure one that hid his face but a selfie all the same.He was sitting on the floor, the dog cradled in his lap. It was the first glimpse of him they’d ever seen, and Ursula drank in every tiny detail. As though the image might be snatched away from her at any moment. His long legs were folded up in a pair of dark jeans, his body angled backward as he leaned back on a pale, slender hand, trying to better center the dog in his lap. It granted her an unconscious view of his body, the white t-shirt under a dark gray hoodie fitted neatly to his frame, accentuating the narrow dip of his waist, drawing the eye upward to the broad line of his shoulders. Lean and compact, with just a sliver of abdomen on show from the angle he was sitting at. And there, hovering on the verge of existence, the hint of a smile taking shape.Ursula pressed her finger to the photo again, watching it move. It was likely an accident. A fluke of luck as Mister V looked up to check the camera, the smile resulting from the puppy jostling in his lap. But as she watched the image loop over and over, his lips parting briefly as his mouth twisted wryly to the side—somehow much younger looking than Ursula ever envisioned—Ursula couldn’t help but want it to mean more.“Cute dog,” Devon said, leaning over her shoulder. “Is that him?”Ursula bit her lip. “Yeah.”Devon chewed thoughtfully; their brow furrowed in an unreadable expression as they glanced between Ursula’s face and phone. The image looped again, and they sighed, patting Ursula on the shoulder. “Yeah, you’re fucked.”Ursula bit her lip harder, smiling. “Yeah.”That about summed it up.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“Well, that was another intense session,” Dr. Lestrange said, peering at Vlad over the top of her glasses. “How are you feeling?”Vlad drew in a shaky breath. It felt like he’d recounted everything that’d happened over the last four days without breathing. “Okay, I think…”“Anything else you want to talk about while we still have time?”Vlad thought about it. He’d recounted the moment over the weekend when he’d realized how unsafe he’d felt in the house with Elizabeth home. And the confrontation with his father last night. He’d even confided in her about his newfound half-assed method of doing the dishes. That last one had felt harder to talk about, like Vlad was admitting to some tremendous personal failing that made everything else they talked about pale in comparison. However, Dr. Lestrange smiled and commended him on finding a workaround for his executive dysfunction.Vlad shook his head. “No, I can’t think of anything.”Dr. Lestrange scribbled something down in her notebook. “All right. Well, that takes us to your favorite part of our sessions.” She gave him a mischievous smile, and Vlad suppressed a groan when he realized what was coming. “Can you name a nice thing you did for yourself this week?”“I’m on vacation,” Vlad muttered, feeling rebellious. Surely taking time off was the nice thing?“And what are you doing with that time?”“Sleeping,” he said, already knowing it would be the wrong answer.Dr. Lestrange scrunched up her nose. “That’s good, but it’s also necessary for survival. Tell me something unnecessary but nice.”Vlad thought about it. “I got a haircut.”“I noticed. What else?”Vlad floundered. What else had he done? “I started sketching again.”The doctor’s face lit up. “Oh?”Vlad nodded. Evidently, he’d glossed over why he’d been in his old home office, too focused on talking about the fear response he’d experienced while in there. He expanded further. “I dug out my stylus, and I’ve been practicing drawing on my laptop.”He didn’t tell her about letting Nathan watch, nor the portrait he’d sketched for Ursula. He suspected that might invalidate the purpose of the exercise, and Vlad didn’t want to ruin that experience by psychoanalyzing it.“Good, very good,” Dr. Lestrange said, scribbling in her notepad. “Anything else?”Vlad hesitated, not sure this would count. “I’ve been making myself Blutvarian coffee in the morning?”Dr. Lestrange looked up, intrigued. “Is that the special slow kind that takes forever on the stove?”Vlad shrugged. “Not that long. Fifteen minutes at most.”“And you’ve been doing this every day?” Dr. Lestrange persisted. “Taking fifteen minutes each morning to make special coffee for yourself?”Vlad didn’t understand why she made it sound like a momentous event, but he rolled with it. “Yeah. It’s nicer than my usual stuff.” He shrugged sheepishly. “Mostly, I’m just using it as an excuse to eat one of the cookies Nathan and Ursula sent me. The dark chocolate works well with the spices.”Dr. Lestrange stared at him. “The what?”Vlad brightened. “Oh, uh, Nathan and Ursula wanted to send me something nice and told me to make a wish list, so I did. Did… did I not mention that earlier?”Dr. Lestrange stared harder. Then flicked to a new page in her notebook. Freed for the rest of the day, Vlad traipsed out into the crisp afternoon sunlight. He stood atop the porch steps for several moments, taking stock of his emotional state. Usually, he left these appointments desperate for a cigarette and wanting to crawl into bed as quickly as possible. While the former desire was still intact, Vlad was surprised to find he felt quite enlivened. “Fucking sleep hygiene,” he muttered as he slotted a cigarette between his teeth and headed toward his car. It was galling how much of a difference four days’ worth of consistent sleep had made to his mental well-being.It was almost like not getting enough sleep was bad for you or something.Pulling out his car keys, Vlad put his hand on the door, then paused. Rush hour was about to start, and the thought of chain-smoking behind the wheel as the city ground to a standstill didn’t fill him with glee. But he had another option. Dr. Lestrange had been delighted when he’d asked about melatonin supplements and had given him several recommendations. If Vlad remembered correctly, there was a pharmacy two blocks over. He could walk there, pick up what he needed and walk back just in time to miss the worst traffic. And wasn’t that something he was supposed to do for his mental health? Go for a walk? That sounded like something Allan was always suggesting. Besides, it was nice out. The air was cool, and the first hint of orange was creeping into the leaves of the trees that lined the street. Vlad eyed the sky. There were a few clouds that looked like rain, but he could probably make it there and back before the worst of it hit…Reaching a decision, Vlad pocketed his keys, lit his cigarette, and sauntered off down the sidewalk. He had to give it to Dr. Lestrange. She’d picked a spectacular part of the city to set up shop in. The south side had always been one of Vlad’s favorite spots. There were more parks and greenery here, and the houses tended toward the gothic, with colorful facades slotted between the more muted and elegant homes of yesteryear. Vlad was rather in love with them all. Even the one for rent on the end corner with the eye-smarting lime-green door that clashed horribly with the purple shutters. There was just so much whimsy about them. So much personality. A far cry from the stark white exterior of his own home and the interior, too. Everything in his house was white, from the walls to the marble countertops, the furniture, all the way down to the distressed gray hardwood floors. Elizabeth liked it that way. White was hard to maintain and, therefore, suitably expensive for her tastes. Vlad supposed he hadn’t really cared. The house was her domain, and it was easy to find your phone when everything around you had as much glacial appeal as the inside of a refrigerator. But he realized now just how much he missed color. Color and plants and, and stuff.Elizabeth despised clutter unless it looked like it fell out of a magazine. There hadn’t been a single part of their lives that wasn’t staged, Vlad realized. From the white faux fur blanket draped artfully over the beige chaise lounge to how they revolved around each other like actors in a play. Stilted and cordial in public, while behind the scenes, everything crumbled. The thought made his brain itch, a surge of energy jolting up his spine that demanded motion. More than that. Rebellion. Vlad was gripped by a sudden and spiteful urge to paint the house in dark jewel tones. Line the walls with plants. Throw shit absolutely everywhere. He slowed his gait and came to a halt under the boughs of a beautiful, old maple tree—studying the veins of the changing leaves and savoring his cigarette until the urge passed. No, painting the house on a vindictive whim was not a good idea. Not when it was about to get tied up in the divorce proceedings. Elizabeth would probably find a way to construe it as vandalism. Nor should he throw things around like a toddler having a tantrum. But nothing was stopping him from filling the house with plants. Real plants. Not the plastic ones Elizabeth used to create artificial splashes of green in their otherwise sterile environment. There was a plant nursery close to the house. Vlad could stop in there on his way home. Maybe buy something hard to kill. He was so enamored with the idea that he almost turned around and returned to his car, but caught himself.“Pharmacy first, then plants,” he muttered, stamping out his cigarette and moving toward his goal with renewed purpose. “Pharmacy first, then plants.”He made it to the store just as the first few spatters of rain began to fall and dipped inside the revolving doors. The pharmacy—or apothecary, as it said on the sign above the door in flowing font—was a strange mix of modern big-box pharma and what Vlad could only define as ‘hippy-dippy alternatives.’ He grabbed a basket and politely stepped around the store associate, offering to extoll the benefits of essential oils to anyone who might listen, and went in search of the supplement aisle. He was squinting down at the ingredients of a bottle, wishing he had his glasses, when his phone rang.“Hello?”“Vladdy!”“Riya!” Vlad greeted his sister, both surprised and glad to hear from her. “You rarely call me this early. How are you?”“You rarely pick up,” his sister countered. “And I’m good. I’m between shoots, and I thought I’d see how your week off is going.”“Good,” Vlad replied, setting down the bottle and picking up another. “I just got out of therapy. I don’t suppose you know anything about melatonin?”“Only that Kitty takes it to help her sleep. Why?”“I’m at the pharmacy, but none of the brands my therapist recommended are here.”“And you know if you walk out, you won’t ever buy them?” Riya guessed.Vlad snorted. “Am I that predictable?”“Only with some things. Hold on, let me look something up. Okay, is there an orange bottle with lots of citrus fruits and a happy little cartoon moon on it?”Vlad’s eyes scanned the shelves before alighting on one that looked like what she’d described. “Citrus gummy fruits for better sleep,” he read aloud, arching an eyebrow. “This looks like candy.”“It does, but Kitty says it helps her remember to take it. It’s like a little treat before bedtime. Besides, I made sure they don’t have corn syrup, so it’s healthy.”“I’ll take your word for it,” Vlad replied, and put the bottle in his basket.“They also make a magnesium berry-chew thing she takes for her anxiety. Those are good.”Vlad paused. He didn’t realize Kitty suffered from anxiety. She was always so happy and bubbly. His eyes scanned along the aisle to the same brand logo and saw what she was talking about. He hesitated, then put them in his basket as well. “Thank you. I’ll look into them.”“For sure! Now, what else do you need?”Vlad opened his mouth to say he needed nothing else, then hesitated. “Now that you mention it. I need hair… stuff.”“Stuff? You mean gel?”“Maybe?” he said, not entirely sure himself. Angelo had told him what he needed, but Vlad realized now his brain had failed to retain that information. “I think it’s more of a mousse.”“A mousse? Vlad, you don’t have enough hair for that.”“Thanks.” “No, I mean you keep it cropped too short.”“Uh… I got it cut differently.”There was a beat of silence, then Vlad heard the insistent beep that told him Riya was prompting him to turn his camera on. “Riya, I’m in a store…”“Turn on your camera! Turn it on right now!”He sighed and held his phone in front of him. Riya’s image filled his screen, and Vlad was afforded a split second to take in the voluminous cloud of her natural hair, and the full face of glittering makeup before her eyes widened, and she let out an ear-piercing squeal.“Vladdy! You look amazing!”Vlad felt his cheeks flush. “Thanks.”“You look so much younger!”He arched an eyebrow at the backhanded compliment. “Thank you, I think?”She waved him off. “I didn’t mean it like that. You just… you look like you.” Her smile twitched to the side. “All that’s missing is the smudged eyeliner and chipped nail polish.”Vlad snorted and ambled off down the haircare aisle, holding her aloft. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that.”In the end, Riya helped him pick out a shampoo, a conditioner, and a styling mousse—though not before making him hold each bottle up to the camera in a pantomime of inefficiency so she could see the ingredients. She even (gently) bullied him into getting a new moisturizer and an under-eye cream Vlad was sure he’d never remember to use, but promised he’d at least try. Riya had to hang up after that—something about a new international lipstick launch she was participating in—but she promised to call him later when she was done. Vlad wandered down the aisles, accumulating one or two more things he knew he’d forget to pick up later if he didn’t do it now. Though, mostly, he was trying to avoid the rain. The slight smatter had turned into a torrential deluge, and Vlad could see it cascading past the windows in sheets. He rolled his eyes.So much for avoiding the worst of it.When he’d loitered as long as he could, Vlad took a detour to the essentials rack by the door and picked out an umbrella that looked like it might survive the downpour before heading to the checkout. While standing in line, his gaze landed on a display of nail polishes in a dazzling array of colors that ranged from bright and lurid to subtle and subdued. He picked up an eye-smarting neon-blue color and examined it, a smile tugging at his mouth. He felt sure he’d watched Ursula apply a similar shade during one of their video calls. Those nights had always felt so weirdly intimate, yet casually comfortable. Vlad missed them. He set the bottle back down and was just about to step up to the cash register when a solitary bottle of black nail polish caught his attention. His fingers twitched toward it, hesitant. Like it might burn him if he touched it. Riya had joked that all Vlad needed was some eyeliner and chipped nail polish to look more like himself, but that was all it was. A joke. After all, it wasn’t as though he could pull that look off anymore. Not if he wanted to be taken seriously at work. Half the men on the board had worked with Vlad’s father, and Vlad could tell they still saw the wayward teenager whose father used to drag him into the office to keep an eye on him whenever they looked at him. There was no reason to compound that belief by reverting to old habits. He picked the bottle up and glanced at the name on the bottom, his gaze tracking the silver ball bearings trailing through the viscous mixture inside.“Uh, sir?” the cashier called, and Vlad realized he’d stalled in line.He put the bottle down and started forward, smiling apologetically. “Sorry, miles away.”The cashier returned the smile and said nothing as she scanned and bagged the items in his basket. Vlad’s gaze skittered back to the nail polish display, still visible from the corner of his eye. It really was a delightful shade of black. A deep, true glossy black that swallowed the surrounding light. What had the name on the bottle been? Inkpot Soul? Something like that. Sixteen-year-old Vlad would have been all over that. Oh, who was he kidding? Thirty-nine-year-old Vlad was too, but the idea was ludicrous. He was too old for that sort of thing now… wasn’t he?“Anything else?” the cashier asked.“Uh…” Vlad’s eyes scanned the row of items at the cashier’s back and directed her to a pack of nicotine gum, stalling for time. What was he stalling for? Nail polish? Really?You obviously want it. Just get it, said the voice that’d been growing bolder of late.I don’t need it, he argued back. It’s a pointless impulse.It’s not about need, the voice countered. It’s about having something nice just for you. Vlad bit his lip. I’ll never wear it…
It’s not about wearing it. It’s about having the option. What are you afraid of?
What was Vlad afraid of? Being judged by his father’s old friends at work? They already did that. What was one more thing…“Uh, and this.” He darted back and grabbed the bottle, bracing himself for the cashier to say something. But she just smiled and added it to his total.“Will that be cash or card?” With his items bought and paid for, Vlad loitered in the pharmacy’s entryway a little longer to see if the rain would ease up. When it became apparent that no such reprieve would come, he sighed, pulled the umbrella out of his bag, and stepped out into the rain just as a couple, their faces shielded behind the umbrella they were sharing, darted into the entryway he’d vacated. Had the rain not been so bad, he might have looked back. As it was, he was too preoccupied trying not to get swept away to notice a familiar mane of curly blonde hair disappearing behind the storefront doors.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“Ugh, that rain came out of nowhere,” Ursula complained as she and Nathan dripped wetly all over the pharmacy floor.“It’s fall in Ingleton,” Nathan replied as he rolled up their umbrella. It was like wringing out a wet cloth. “Unexpected rain is to be expected.”Ursula made a disgruntled sound and stepped further into the store. A sales associate was in front of her immediately, waving a heavily scented bottle under her nose. “Can I interest you in—”“No, thank you,” Ursula replied curtly, and stepped around them. The last few hours had been stressful enough as it was. She didn’t need a migraine on top of it from someone waving essential oils under her nose.“Right. What do we need?” Nathan asked, trailing behind her.“A new apartment,” Ursula muttered sullenly as she dumped the first bag of candy she saw into the basket he was carrying. She didn’t normally eat her feelings. That was Nathan’s forte. But after an arduous morning teaching Devon new hoop maneuvers and viewing four apartments in as many hours, she was ready to make an exception.Nathan cast her a patient look that said he wasn’t feeling much better, but was trying to pretend he was okay for her sake. “I meant something we could pick up in the store, but sure. Let’s ask.”Ursula’s shoulders sagged, and she leaned against his side in apology. It wasn’t his fault the entire day had been wretched. The least she could do was stop having a tantrum and handle her emotions like an adult. “I’m sorry. I just thought we’d find something today.”Nathan looped his arm around her soggy shoulders and pulled her closer. “I know, but we’ll get where we’re supposed to be. And there will be other places. Who knows what could be around the corner for us if we keep looking?”“Yeah,” Ursula replied, not feeling his optimism but trying to at least support it.It wouldn’t have been so bad if the last place wasn’t so perfect. After viewing three overpriced shoeboxes in a row, Nathan’s phone rang. It was the landlady from the old gothic townhouse he’d called about the previous week. Circumstances had changed, and she wanted to know if they were interested in renting the ground floor instead. They’d jumped at the chance to view it, but now, with hindsight, Ursula realized that was a mistake. The house was beautiful, from the high, vaulted ceilings to the gleaming hardwood floors and delicate woodwork and fixtures. The bathroom and kitchen needed renovation, but everything was well-maintained and functional. And there had been not one but two magnificent bay windows that framed either side of the entryway, offering spectacular views of the garden and the main street. Ursula had stood there for a long time, imagining a life where a house with a garden and bay windows was in her future. It was a reality so far off it might as well be in an alternate dimension.In this reality, even with Nathan taking on extra work at the gym, the rent alone would be a stretch. Ursula had asked around at Club Wyrd too, and while Madame Jenne was happy to give them more work, it wouldn’t be enough to cover their monthly expenses—not when you considered how much they’d need to spend on transportation alone. She supposed they might manage it if she went back to sugaring on her own, but there too, Ursula was reluctant. Mister V had been a once-in-a-lifetime patron, the kind that ruined you for everyone else. Ursula didn’t resent him for it; how could she? He’d been so kind and undemanding, even with how chaotic things turned out. But there was no denying he’d be a hard act to follow. And Ursula just wasn’t ready for that level of disappointment. Not yet. She sighed and dumped a bag of chips into the basket.Nathan looked down at them and gave her an incredulous look. “Hey now, I know things seem bad, but I don’t think we’re at shitty fake-cheese corn chips level yet.” He set them back on the shelf and selected another brand. “At least spring for the good fake-cheese stuff. Cheese and crackers, woman, have some self-respect in misery.”Despite herself, Ursula felt her mouth curve into a smile. “I defer to your junk food expertise.”“Good, you should.”Snacks acquired, they trailed around the store aimlessly, waiting for the rain to stop. When Ursula got distracted by a box of platinum blonde box dye, Nathan put an embargo on any more impulse buys. Candy was one thing, he reasoned as he hustled her down the aisle; frying her already frazzled hair with peroxide was quite another. Standing in line at the checkout, Ursula picked up a bottle of electric blue nail polish from the display, eyeing it wistfully.“Do I have this color already?” she asked, holding it up for Nathan’s inspection.“Yes,” Nathan said without looking up from his phone.Ursula tsked at him. “You didn’t even look.”“It’s nail polish. It’s safe to assume that you have every color known to man.” He looked up, staring into the middle distance. “Possibly some only known to mantis shrimp as well.”Ursula snorted and put the bottle back down. “Anything good?” she asked, nodding at his phone.Nathan pulled a face and looked back down at the screen. “Madame Jennee texted me. She wants to know if I can work Halloween.”“Weren’t you going to ask to work then, anyway?” Ursula asked.“Yeah, but she’s asking me to help cover the bar.”Ursula paused. “Oh.”It wasn’t that Nathan couldn’t work at the bar. He frequently stepped in on quiet nights to help. The key word there, however, was “quiet.” Halloween at Club Wyrd was less quiet and more akin to a riot. Considering most people would be in costumes, including masks, Nathan wouldn’t even be able to lipread if he needed to. Between that and his malfunctioning hearing aids, he’d be functionally useless at best and totally overwhelmed at worst. Usually, Madame Jennee was good at remembering such things.“Want me to talk to her?” she asked, casting Nathan a sidelong glance.Nathan’s blue-eyed gaze swiveled down to meet hers. She could see the temptation in his face. His desire to hand this socially awkward burden onto her, so he didn’t need to deal with reminding people yet again that he had accessibility needs that needed to be accommodated. But he shook his head. “Nah, I can deal with it. She’s got me doing set up on Saturday morning. I can talk to her in person then.”“Well, you know I’m here if you need me,” Ursula said, then let out a soft squeal as he leaned down and pressed a noisy kiss to the top of her head.When they’d paid for their items, they headed back outside, traipsing their way home in the rain, which had downgraded from a torrential downpour to a manageable drizzle. “Shame about that place,” Nathan said as they walked past the house with the purple shutters on their way to the bus depot.“Yeah,” Ursula agreed, linking their fingers more firmly as they walked. “Like you said, there’ll be other places.”“There will,” Nathan agreed, squeezing her hand back. “And besides, we still have what? Eighty-six days?”“Eighty-six days,” Ursula agreed, feeling a tendril of anxiety creep back into her chest. You could do a lot with eighty-six days. You could learn a new skill if you were consistent. Or quit smoking. You could even travel around the world and have some time to spare for sightseeing if you had the means. So then, why did this feel so daunting?I’m tired. The thought rose to the forefront of Ursula’s mind, leaden with exhaustion. That was the plain truth of it. Ursula was tired of constantly moving around, of never having a place to truly call her own. It started when she was placed in foster care—constantly bouncing from one family to the next. Never sure when she’d finally get to rest and put down roots. She’d thought she’d have more control when she aged out of the system and could do things for herself. But here she was, approaching thirty and still drifting along, being buffeted from one place to another. She was sick of it.“Sue?”Nathan’s fingers tugged against hers, and she realized she’d stopped dead in her tracks, leaving him to walk ahead without her. She frowned up at him, gnawing on her bottom lip as she thought. “I’m going to manifest something. Right here, right now.”Nathan glanced around, then back at her, still confused. “Uh, okay?” “I want a home,” she said, putting as much force behind it as she could. “A proper home where no one can make me leave if I don’t want to, and I’m going to paint the front door pink. And I want a garden so I can plant sunflowers.”Nathan stared down at her, then nodded. “Okay. House, pink door, garden. Any other demands of the universe while you’re at it?”Ursula thought about it. “And a puppy.”“A puppy?” Nathan cleared his throat, his mouth twitching on the verge of a smile as he tried to keep his expression serious. “Okay. House, pink door, garden, and a puppy.” He nodded again. “That sounds doable.”Ursula’s heart leaped to hear him say it. She’d so rarely allowed herself to dream of having a permanent home. It felt scary to say it out loud. Like she was demanding more than she was owed. It seemed almost tangible to hear Nathan say it so casually. Like it was something she was allowed to have.He hooked his fingers around hers again and tugged her forward. “I just have one small favor to ask while the universe is listening…”Ursula clasped his hand in both of hers, bouncing along beside him to keep up with his stride. “What?”“Take me with you.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Hey! Are you free right now? Ursula’s text message flashed over his phone screen. Vlad glanced at it, then back to the book he’d been reading—the one Allan kept recommending to him.
Nothing that can’t wait. Why?
Her icon appeared again, the ellipses at the bottom denoting that she was typing. I was going to ask if you wanted to be my task buddy. I’ve got stuff to do, but Nathan’s at work, and I’m struggling to find the will to do it on my own.Vlad blinked. He’d never heard of a task buddy, but any opportunity to talk to her was welcome. Sure. He typed back. Do I have to do anything?Nope! I just need someone to talk to while I do stuff :)
I can do that.
Great, let me grab my headphones. Call me in a sec!
Vlad reached for his earphones, slotting them into place. He waited for her to confirm she was ready, then hit the call button.“Hello, you,” she greeted him on the first ring, an audible smile in her voice.“Hello yourself,” Vlad replied, unable to keep from smiling in return.“Thank you for this. Sorry it’s for something so tedious. I know it’s your last official day of vacation…”“No, no, it’s fine,” Vlad rushed to reassure her, swallowing the urge to thank her for wanting to do boring things with him. Neither she nor Nathan needed to know how desperately he missed talking to them. Nor how little he knew what to do with his time off. “I wasn’t doing anything. Just sitting on the porch, reading.” He glanced around the sunlit garden, soaking up the still-early autumnal light. “It seemed like a good day for it.”“Ugh, lucky. I’ve always wanted a porch. They seem like good napping spots.”Vlad nodded. He’d lost count of how often he’d fallen asleep out here over the last week. “I can indeed confirm they are good for that.”There was a loud shuffling sound, followed by the jangle of what sounded like keys. “What are you reading?” she asked. “Anything good?”Vlad picked up the book again, glancing at the cover and the many folded-down pages he’d created in the last few hours. “Yeah, kinda. It’s, uh, ‘The Science of Why We Sleep’ by Dr. … somebody-or-other.”“Ooh. Sounds interesting.”“It is,” Vlad agreed, letting the dog-eared book flop back onto the wrought-iron table before him. After several failed attempts to start the book over the course of the week, he’d come outside, hoping that the tranquility of the garden (if you ignored the buzz of lawnmowers starting up) would help him focus. With hindsight, leaving his phone inside might have helped further, but Vlad wouldn’t berate himself for that now. He leaned back in the porch swing, drawing one leg up beneath him and setting the chair to rocking with the other. He hesitated, then added, “Though it’s made me wonder if I might have some sort of sleep disorder.”There was a clang in the background, followed by Ursula’s breathless response. “Oh?”Vlad made a low, vague sound in response. “Yeah. I dunno.” He tipped his head back on his shoulders, eyes trailing over the imperfections in the weathered shiplap finish. “It was talking about the circadian rhythm. Like your internal clock, I guess? I think mine broke. Or I’ve never had one. I used to think it was just insomnia, but…” He trailed off as his thoughts tapered out. He wasn’t sure what’d prompted him to tell her all that. Probably because he couldn’t get the idea to stop spinning in his brain. Some passages had felt far too close for comfort. Especially the one about delayed sleep phase syndrome. That one had made him put the book down and wonder if the chronic insomnia he’d been diagnosed with as a child had been wrong for the last thirty years. He didn’t struggle to stay asleep; he just couldn’t seem to go to sleep when everyone thought he should.“Sounds like something worth bringing up with your doctor,” Ursula’s voice cut into his thoughts, bringing him back to reality. “Did it offer any helpful advice, at least?”“Yeah, I think so. Some of it I already knew.” He laughed bitterly. “I just hate doing it.”“The struggle is real,” Ursula agreed. “Honestly, the best thing I did for my sleep was get a weighted blanket. That thing puts me out like a light every time. Nathan says it’s like being snuggled to sleep by a steel bear trap. You can’t escape from under it, even if you want to.”Vlad snorted, amused. “Well, that’s good to know because I impulse-bought one this morning.”Along with a myriad of other things that were supposed to help.The sleep mask made sense. Even with blackout curtains, Vlad could never get his room dark enough. He was less sure about the white noise machine, fancy pillow, special weighted blanket, and the sunlight alarm clock that emulated the sunrise in the morning and dimmed to match the sunset at night. But Vlad was willing to give them a try. He’d try anything that’d help him take better care of himself. He was hopeful, though. And if the last week had shown him anything, Vlad could take care of himself. He could go to bed at decent-ish hours, and he could ensure he ate three meals a day. The actual test would be trying to keep it up when he returned to work on Monday, but there, too, he was already formulating a tentative plan.Technically, technically, Vlad wasn’t needed in the office until nine or ten at the latest. At present, he was showing up at six, then staying there until Swithin booted him out, usually around eight or nine in the evening. Sometimes even ten. And the reason he did that, the reason he was working fifteen, sometimes sixteen hours a day with a forty-minute commute either way… was to avoid Elizabeth.It sounded insane now that he thought about it.Now that he had the time to stop, think, and breathe.Yes, his entire life revolved around work, and perhaps Dr. Lestrange was right; maybe it was his crutch to avoid idleness and the vices that followed. But after a week of relentless idleness and zero urges that might lead to a relapse, Vlad now knew the main reason he did it was to avoid his wife. The person who was supposed to love and support him the most but frequently caused him so much pain, Vlad drank himself to sleep whenever they fought.But Elizabeth was no longer around. She wouldn’t be able to be around him at all once she received the restraining order. That meant Vlad could reclaim not just his sense of self, but also his time. He could get up later in the mornings if he wanted to. He could make himself breakfast and enjoy his morning coffee instead of drinking it behind the wheel of his car between drags on a cigarette. He could come home at a sensible hour without being afraid of what—or whom—he’d find. And even if he didn’t feel like cooking for himself, he could ensure he ate something before going to sleep instead of filling his lungs with smoke to suppress his appetite and going to bed dizzy every night.Vlad could have free time in his own home for the rest of his life.It was a giddying thought.A thought which was broken by a heavy thud on the other end of the line and Ursula’s muffled swearing. “Are you all right?”“Yes, fine. Ugh. I’m in the basement trying to get our suitcases out of storage, and there’s shit everywhere. That thud was me trying not to trip over a swing set and knocking over a different one.”“Ah. Well, be careful,” Vlad said uselessly, wishing he could be of actual use to her instead of just listening on the phone. Weirdly, knowing she was doing things made Vlad feel compelled to get up and do some of his own chores. Like loading the dishwasher and checking on the potted plant that he’d bought the other day. He got up, heading inside and into the kitchen, where he’d left his breakfast plates in the sink.“I’ll be fine,” Ursula dismissed him, amused by his concern. “Besides, if anything happens, you know where I live. You can call emergency services for me.”“True,” Vlad admitted, abashed that he hadn’t even thought of that. He’d probably have done something stupid like get in the car and get her himself. Calling for an ambulance made much more sense. “What do you need the suitcases for? Are you going somewhere nice?”“Hah, I wish,” Ursula replied, her voice straining upward like she was reaching for something. “No, we’re just trying to get prepared for moving. I’m going through my costume wardrobe today. Well, trying to…”Loading up the dishwasher, Vlad asked, “Did you find somewhere, then?”There was a beat of silence before she replied. “No, not yet.”Vlad winced. He wished he could help. But he knew better than to suggest it again. Tell them they can come here, said a brief, irrational desire, and Vlad quashed it down as far as it would go. That was absolutely not the right thing to suggest. Instead, he said, “I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ll find somewhere soon.”“Here’s hoping,” Ursula replied. “Oh, fuck.”Vlad was about to ask what was wrong when he heard an almighty crash on the other end of the line. “Please tell me you’re alive,” he said into the ringing silence. Relief swept over him when he heard Ursula’s bubbling laughter.“Good news! I got both suitcases down at the same time.”“Well done,” Vlad said, his heart still thudding in his throat. “Might I suggest being less ambitious in the future?”“Duly noted. Right. Now to get these back up to the top floor.”Despite a lot of swearing and some alarming thuds along the way, the rest of their call remained mercifully unfraught. Vlad was spreading newspaper across the kitchen table and getting ready to de-pot his new project—a cascading pothos he suspected of being rootbound and wanted to rescue—when Ursula suggested they revert to old habits.“This doesn’t seem very productive,” Vlad said as the Netflix logo flashed over their shared screen on his laptop. “I’m a terrible task buddy for enabling this.”Ursula sighed. “Look, it’s all part of the process. It’s just background noise while I sort these clothes. I promise.”“What are we watching, anyway?”“You’ll see,” Ursula replied, sounding mischievous.Forty minutes later, with potting soil strewn across the table, Vlad buried his head in his blackened hands, peering at his laptop screen through splayed fingers. “This is, beyond all doubt, the worst adaptation to have ever existed. What have I done to deserve such cruelty?”Ursula’s laughter bubbled over his earphones. That sound still made his heart flutter. “What?” she crooned with mock sincerity. “I thought you’d like Steven Moffat’s 2020 Dracula…”“Like a hole in the head,” Vlad muttered. Ursula gurgled with laughter again.“What don’t you like? Is it the sass-talking warrior nuns? Or Dracula breaking character and calling Jonathan his bride?”He shook his head. “The sassy warrior nuns I could put up with. And I don’t know what you’re talking about with that last one. Dracula flirts with Jonathan all over the place.”“Wait, really?”“Have we not been reading the same story?” Vlad asked. Standing up, he wiped his hands off on his jeans as he began putting away the plant supplies, pothos successfully repotted. “There’s gay subtext all through the novel. Supposedly it was Stoker wrestling with his own suppressed sexuality.”“Bram Stoker was gay? I thought he had a wife…”Vlad laughed. “So did Oscar Wilde, who Stoker was friends with, by the way. He was also friends with Walt Whitman. He used to write love letters to him. People think that’s who Quincey Morris was based on. Though honestly, there were a lot of random cowboys in popular Victorian literature. I think a few show up in Sherlock Holmes, too.”“Huh. I did not know that. So when does this gay subtext happen?”Vlad racked his brains, trying to remember where they’d read up to. “So when the Brides try to seduce Jonathan? Dracula flies into a jealous rage and states that Jonathan belongs to him and only him, then carries him back to bed when Jonathan falls unconscious. It’s implied Dracula undresses him to feed on him or to make the encounter with the Brides look like a dream. Either way, the inference that Dracula takes him to bed is there.”“Huh. I wonder how I missed that.”Vlad smiled wryly. “Probably because you fall asleep as soon as I start reading.”Ursula huffed with laughter. “Hey, I can’t help it. It’s that soothing voice of yours. So what is it you object to about this adaptation, then?”Vlad made a face. “It’s Johnathan and Mina. Sorry, ‘Jonny.’”“What about them?”“Johnathan is supposed to return to Mina come Hell or high water. Making him undead is fine; that’s actually kind of a cool twist on his illness. But there’s no way he’d try to drink her blood, even if he were undead.”“How do you figure that?”“Because being undead doesn’t change who you are. It shows exactly who you are when you’ve been stripped of the hindrances of mortality and the threat of divine retribution in the afterlife. With Dracula, that manifests as bloodlust and extreme appetite. A desire to conquer and rule. The Brides are a manifestation of the Victorian fear of female sexuality and what that kind of female empowerment without the risk of childbirth would mean for men. They’re mindless, but also dangerous. Driven by baser instincts because they have no desire beyond desire itself, which is why they are the way they are. Jonathan has one genuine driving force: to be with Mina. Even when he’s mad and forgets his own name, the first person he remembers is Mina. Then, later on, when she gets bit, everyone’s talking about the reality of possibly having to kill her like they did with Lucy, and Jonathan’s ready to wade into Hell to save her. When Mina pleads with him to take pity on what remains of Dracula’s immortal soul, he outright states he’s prepared to defy the mercy of God and throw Dracula’s soul into Hell himself if it sets her free. His devotion is absolute. Even when she bears the marks of being corrupted by Dracula’s power, he quite literally throws himself at her feet. He refuses to let her think herself unloveable. All he wants is to love her with the devotion he thinks she deserves. There’s nothing Jonathan Harker wouldn’t do to protect his wife. He’d die before he’d let himself hurt her.” Vlad gestured at his laptop screen, even though Ursula couldn’t see him do it. “This is just… cheap. Yes, he kills himself when he realizes he’s succumbing to the bloodlust. But anyone who understands Jonathan’s character would know even undead; he wouldn’t hurt her in the first place. It’s not who he is. If they wanted to kill him off, there were other ways to show his love for her. Because dying for Mina is the bare minimum the real Jonathan Harker is willing to do.”Silence filled the air between them, and Vlad realized he’d been ranting. He was about to apologize when Ursula spoke.“God, I love listening to people talk about the things they’re passionate about. It’s so much more interesting than reading the spark notes.”He laughed, feeling jittery with relief. “Yeah, sorry. I, uh, this might have been a large part of my personality growing up.”“No, don’t apologize! I meant it. I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you talk about something. You should info dump at me more often.”Vlad laughed again, aware that his cheeks were burning pink. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.” He hazarded for a safer topic. “Have you finished sorting your clothes yet?”Ursula sighed. “I should have known that wouldn’t be enough to make you forget about this. No, I haven’t. Want to watch another episode with me while I keep going? I can’t promise it’ll get better, but I can promise to listen while you tell me everything it got wrong.”Vlad bit his lip. He should really do more chores. Like put away his dry cleaning and start getting ready for work on Monday so he wouldn’t be panicking last minute Sunday. But Vlad supposed nothing was preventing him from doing both. “Sure,” he said, picking up his laptop and heading toward the entryway, where his dry cleaning was still hanging by the door. “Why not?”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Eventually, when they’d exhausted all the episodes of Not-Dracula, as Vlad insisted on calling it, Ursula proclaimed she was done for the day and needed to get ready for work. Vlad let her go reluctantly, but conceded that he, too, had stuff to do. Though, to his surprise, he’d managed to do most of what he needed to get done on the call.“Fucking sorcery,” he muttered to himself as he finished unloading the dishwasher and set about preparing himself something to eat for dinner. He’d just finished eating when the doorbell rang. Vlad experienced a quick flash of panic, thinking it might be Elizabeth, but quickly dismissed the idea. If Elizabeth wanted to come in, she didn’t need to ring the doorbell; she’d use her keys. Heart still pounding, Vlad edged his way to the front of the house, peering through the side window to see who it was. To his surprise, it was Lady Margarete. She was holding a suitcase.“Hey,” he said as he opened the door, frowning with concern.“Hello, dear.” She greeted him by leaning in to kiss the side of his cheek as she eked past him in the doorway. “How are you, darling? Oh, the house smells nice. I’m not interrupting your dinner, am I?”“Uh, no.” Vlad stepped out of her way, perplexed by her arrival. “Just got done. Is something wrong?”Lady Margarete swiveled to face him, perching her signature cat-eye sunglasses atop her head. “Oh no, dear, everything is wonderful! But I am here to ask a teensy-weensy favor…” She hefted her luggage, and Vlad realized it wasn’t a suitcase but a pet carrier. “I’ve, um, run into a bit of a kenneling situation. Your father’s scheduled for treatment on Monday, and we’re supposed to be leaving tomorrow for it, but the foster home she was supposed to go to fell through, and well…” She set the cage on the floor and opened the door.A timid pair of dark eyes peered out, followed by an unruly mop of blonde fur as the Shih Tzu, Holly Mop, stuck her head out of the crate. Vlad stared at the dog, then back at his stepmother. “You want me to take her?”“Just for the weekend!” Lady Margarete rushed to reassure him. Then added with a reluctant jog of her head, “And some of Monday. I’ve got a girl, Rebecca—you remember Rebecca, don’t you? She was there at Riya’s high school graduation. Lovely tall girl with freckles. Anyway. Rebecca’s flying back in from Lorehaven on Monday morning. She can swing by and pick her up Monday evening, then keep her until I return on Friday. She’ll be no trouble, honestly.”Vlad blinked at her. “I can’t just take her. I don’t know what to do with her.” He didn’t mention that he was only just learning how to take care of himself. “Can’t one of your other foster women take her?”Margarete pulled a tragic expression. “Normally, yes. But we’ve had an influx of rescues. Another ghastly puppy mill situation. So, all the suitable houses I’d send her to are full. Believe me, Vlad, I’ve tried everywhere. You’re my only hope. And besides, what are you talking about? You grew up with all of our dogs; you know the drill. Just feed her twice a day and let her out in the yard. You’ll hardly know she’s here.”He stared at the little dog as she edged out of the crate one fearful step at a time. “I… I have work on Monday,” he protested. “What am I supposed to do, then? I can’t just leave her here.”“Oh, she’ll be fine on her own.” Lady Margarete fixed him with a cheerful smile that would require a battering ram to make give way. “Just leave the television on with some nature sounds, and she’ll sleep the whole day. It’s what she does at home. Isn’t that right, little Mop?” She kneeled down, baby-talking to the dog as the tiny creature trotted toward her, hesitant but trusting.“Isn’t she afraid of men?” Vlad tried one last time.“Most men,” Lady Margarete agreed. “But she likes you. See?”Vlad looked down again to see Holly Mop eyeing him fearfully from behind Margarete’s legs. Recollection seemed to click, and her plume of a tail gave a tentative wag. Vlad sighed. “You should have called first,” he said reproachfully.Lady Margarete was unapologetic. “Yes, I know. But then you would have said no, and then where would we be?”Dogless, Vlad thought, but it was hard to feel much anger when Holly Mop trotted toward him, sniffing at his feet. He crouched down to pet her. She was so small. “Fine. But just until Monday. If your girl, what’s her name? Rebecca? If she doesn’t show up, I’m taking her to the rescue, and one of your other small dog fanatics can take her. I’ve got too much going on.”Lady Margarete held her hands up in surrender. “Absolutely fine; I’ll let them know you might be coming. Which you won’t be. Because Rebecca will be here. Can you get home early? I know you work so late…”“Yeah.” Vlad waved a hand. “I can manage that.”“Oh! Thank you so much, dear; you’re a lifesaver. Now, help me bring in her things.”Vlad stood up, his knee giving an alarming crunch as he followed her outside. “Her things? You mean it’s not all in her crate? How many things can a dog this size have?”The answer turned out to be a lot.Twenty minutes later, Lady Margarete was gone, and Vlad’s entire living room was strewn with squeaky stuffed toys and a multitude of soft plush dog beds. “She doesn’t really know what to do with any of this yet,” his stepmother told him. “But I’m hoping she’ll learn to use them if I leave them around.”Standing amidst the soft, plushie chaos and holding an extensive care list in hand, Vlad stared at Holly Mop, and Holly Mop stared at him. “I have some stuff to do, so I’ll just…” He motioned toward the kitchen, unsure why he was trying to explain himself to a dog. He hesitated, then remembered what Lady Margarete had said. “I’ll leave the tv on for you, shall I?”He scrolled through the YouTube app on the flat-screen television above the fireplace until he found a suitable-looking nature video. One with a lot of birds and nature sounds. To his surprise, Holly Mop seemed interested. After several moments of fascinated watching, she trotted toward the couch and tried to hop up.Emphasis on tried.She was so tiny that her stubby little legs barely left the ground, and she bounced ineffectively off the seat cushion to land on her back. She sprung up seconds later, looking both surprised and abashed, as Vlad let out a sympathetic huff of laughter. “Oh, sweety. Come here.” He leaned down and scooped her up, placing her on the couch. “There you go.” The Shih Tzu chuffed at him, then circled around, flattening herself as low as she could go. Vlad kneeled beside her for several moments, watching the birds flit across the screen. “This is what you do for fun, huh?”Holly Mop cast him a sideways glance, watching him out of the corner of her eye.“Well, I’ll leave you to it then.”He got up and returned to the kitchen, clearing away the last of his dinner. When the kitchen was clean, he moved on to doing laundry, eager to get as much out of the way before Sunday as possible. By the time he was finished, minus folding the clean laundry (that was a problem for future Vlad), it was getting close to midnight, and he supposed he should go to bed.“All right, how do we want to do this?” he asked his impromptu guest. By virtue of being a dog, Holly Mop didn’t answer, but continued to watch him out of the corner of her eye. He thought about leaving her there on the couch. She seemed perfectly content to stay where she was. Still, Vlad also knew from watching Lady Margarete foster countless dogs over the years that her placidness could be a fear response. After all, she was in a strange space with an unfamiliar person; just because she was lying still didn’t mean she was comfortable. And besides, she might get scared on her own. “Shall we go to bed?” he asked, amused when her ears perked up at his sing-song tone. “Yeah? Come on, sweet girl.” He scooped her up, holding her against his shoulder as the poor, sweet thing trembled in his arms. “Oh, it’s okay. You can watch your nature shows in bed.”Upstairs in his bedroom, Vlad was yet again at a loss with what to do with her. He realized belatedly that he hadn’t brought one of her many dog beds with him, and his options were to plop her on his bed, the armchair in the corner, or on the floor. “What do you think?” Vlad asked, still holding her against his shoulder. “I think there’s enough room on the bed for both of us, don’t you?”He set her down on the center of the end of the bed and watched in amusement as she pawed the soft surface suspiciously. When she’d apparently deemed it suitable enough, she circled around, curling up into a tight ball until all he could see amidst the fluff was a pair of dark eyes.“You need a trim,” he told her, giving her a pat on the head as he headed toward the bathroom to get ready for bed. When he emerged several minutes later, it was to find her in the same spot, watching the bathroom door, fully alert. Mindful of his new temporary sleeping companion, Vlad pulled back the covers and crawled under the duvet. He was about to pick up his book—the one about sleep hygiene—when he remembered he’d promised to let her watch her shows in bed. “Oh, here.” He grabbed his tablet from the nightstand and propped it up on the storage ottoman at the end of the bed. “Who knew they made televisions in your size?” he joked, smiling when the Shih Tzu gave a dramatic sigh. “You’re not very chatty, are you?” he asked, giving her another pat as the sound of nature filled his bedroom, soft and gentle. “That’s all right. Me neither.”Resuming his spot at the head of the bed, Vlad sat up against the headboard, reading, ever mindful of Holly’s gaze on him. When his eyes grew heavy, and he couldn’t make out the words anymore, he took that as his cue to turn out the lights and sleep. “Well,” he said to Holly Mop, who’d retreated to the farthest corner of the bed and was still watching him, her tiny little body illuminated by the tablet’s glow at her back. “Good night, then.”Vlad turned the light out, then rolled onto his side, facing away from her. Swathed in darkness and lulled by the sound of birdsong and rain, Vlad soon found himself drifting between wakefulness and sleep. He was on the cusp of slipping into a dream when he was half-woken by the sound of soft, wuffling snores coming from the end of the bed.Won’t even know she’s there, he thought, hiding his smile against the pillow. Sure.Oh well, it was only for a few days…