Author's Note: Thank you all so much for the reviews, follows, and favorites! It makes me so giddy to receive feedback from my readers! There's a lot of angst in this chapter, but I promise it will get better. Enjoy!

We don't talk enough;
we should open up
before it's all too much.
Will we ever learn?
We've been here before.
It's just what we know.
~"The Sign of the Times" by Harry Styles

Victor was using Yuri.

It was true that he really enjoyed watching her dance, but it didn't take long for his motives to morph into something more selfish. He had learned that Yuri only danced during the day when she was alone. She has told him evenings were meant for them to be a couple, which Victor thought was hilarious because the only time in the evening they were a couple was during dinner. Other than that, they did their own, separate activities.

The parameters that Yuri had set for her dance times provided Victor the opportunity to rebel against his father. The days that Evgeni was being especially overbearing - which was many of them, if Victor was honest with himself (he was sure Evgeni didn't know how to not be controlling) - Victor would leave the office early and make his way to the third floor dance studio. Usually, Yuri would already be there either stretching or in the middle of a dance. Victor didn't want to interrupt her, so he rarely went into the studio, contenting himself with watching her from the door.

Victor knew Yuri had given her permission for him to watch her dance, but ever since that first day he saw her, he noticed that her dancing had changed. He no longer saw freeform dance to music that ballerinas wouldn't normally dance to. Instead, he was seeing more of the classical ballet. It didn't make her dancing less beautiful - she was still breathtaking to watch - but he realized that she was guarding her true emotions. What she was displaying wasn't her feelings but those of the character she was portraying. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he knew she was playing the same game he was when it came to their relationship: guard every vulnerability.

This particular day, Evgeni had stopped Victor on his way out and demanded to know why Victor was leaving. Victor exhaled in an attempt to calm the ire that was already coursing through every vein in his body before he answered. He knew his father was prepared for a battle, and it wasn't something Victor was willing to get into with him at this time.

"I'm going to spend time with my wife."

"That's what evenings are for, Victor."

Victor brushed past his father, muttering "I have a duty to fulfill."

Evgeni whirled around, his eyes narrowed. "That duty should be confined to the evenings as well. Don't tell me you love her."

His words made Victor halt in his path to the elevators. His eyes enlarged in shock before he composed himself in order to face Evgeni. He couldn't believe that his father had mentioned that four letter word with such contempt. Then again, he knew he shouldn't be surprised. It was clear in that simple sentence that Evgeni didn't believe in love, and he had inadvertently confirmed to Victor that there wasn't any between Evgeni and Anastasia.

"What makes you say I love her?" Victor asked quietly. He knew he didn't, but he also wanted to keep that information close to his chest.

"Only those who've lost sight of who they are and their masculinity go looking for their women at all hours of the day. Did she convince you to engage in such behavior?"

"She doesn't control me!" Victor lashed out, his eyes flashing with rage at what his father was implying about him.

Evgeni's smirk expressed that he thought the complete opposite. "Then why do you feel the need to leave work to see her on an almost daily basis? It seems to me she has mastery of you. How sad."

Victor swallowed his words, his face burning from his indignation and embarrassment. He realized he had been careless in his defiance, and if he said anything else, he would be revealing feelings he didn't want used against him. He didn't love Yuri - he knew that for certain - but he was beginning to care for her, and that was enough of a weakness for Evgeni to exploit. Evgeni's smile was predatory with the knowledge that he had tightened his hold on his wayward son once more.

"Now, turn yourself around and go back to your office. There's that report about the cost of upgrades to Yutopia that I want on my desk by five."

"Yes, father," Victor whispered through clenched teeth.

Evgeni turned away and began walking away. "Oh, and I want Yuri here tomorrow. She needs to translate that phone call we're having with the Katsukis about the upgrades."

"Yes, father."

Victor did get that report done by five, but he seethed in his anger the whole time. He couldn't believe that he had been careless in this. He had thought he had covered his tracks well, but it seemed that his father was watching his every move, and it bothered him. He was a grown man, and his father traced him as if he was an untrustworthy teenager. He began to wonder who had divulged the fact that he was leaving work early to his father, and he briefly considered Yuri. Would she? I don't think so...what would she gain from that? Still...it's not like I really know her. She could've told him, and I don't know why. It's not like she's free with her thoughts.

He returned to the flat that evening in a foul mood, which Yuri picked up on the moment he walked through the door. Dinner was already on the table, and Yuri was pouring a glass of red wine for Victor. Her smile was hesitant, but it immediately fell when Victor greeted it with a glower. Even Makkachin kept his distance. Victor sat down at the table and began to serve himself. Yuri left briefly to set the bottle of wine down before returning and sitting at the other end.

The oppressive silence swallowed them both. Victor continued to stew in his anger to the point where he didn't even taste the food he was shoveling in his mouth. He was eating because he needed to, not for enjoyment. He watched Yuri eat, wondering why she was so calm and quiet. Why isn't she asking me what's wrong? Does she know because she blew me in to my father? The poisonous thoughts circled in his mind until Victor could no longer take it. He slammed his fork down on the table, making Yuri jump and her eyes dart to him.

"I'm sure you noticed I didn't come today," Victor began.

"I...I assumed you were busy," Yuri stammered, her fork hanging mid-air in her hand.

"And it was acceptable to you that I didn't come without a word? Didn't you wonder what happened to me?" Victor's tone was accusatory.

"Of course I did!" Yuri asserted earnestly. "But...you've never called me before. I wasn't expecting you to. As for me calling you, you've never told me that was an expectation."

Victor was annoyed that Yuri's arguments were solid. It deflated his ire slightly, but not enough to completely extinguish it. He was still suspicious of Yuri despite the fact that he really had no rational reason to do so. Yuri set her own fork back in her bowl and slowly stood. She attempted to keep her face downward, but Victor caught sight of the sheer misery on her face, and it was like a punch to his gut. I hurt her. Damn it!

"Yuri..."

She looked up at him, and he could see her eyes were glassy from tears. "I'll be sure to call you if that's what you want."

"It won't matter tomorrow," Victor grumbled, his own eyes straying down to his bowl. He couldn't handle seeing Yuri so upset - not when he didn't want to admit that he was the cause of it. He was too focused on his own hurt. "Father wants you there to translate a phone call to your parents."

A brief pause. "Of course."

Victor heard Yuri pad away from the dining room. He groaned and rested his elbows on the tabletop, his face going into his hands. His long fingers laced into his platinum hair, pulling tight. He was so frustrated that nothing was going his way, he couldn't understand why everyone around him was able to make him feel worthless, and he had no idea how to fight that without becoming so indignant. If he was honest with himself, he also was upset that Yuri hadn't confirmed or denied that she had been the one to alert Evgeni to their afternoons, and it made him less inclined to continue working on breaking down the wall between them.

The next morning, Victor and Yuri were present in Evgeni's office for the scheduled conference call with the Katsukis at eight-thirty. Yuri had dressed in a purple sweater dress that had three-quarter sleeves. The skirt rested right above her knees. She wore opaque black tights with black heeled boots that came up mid-calf. Victor thought she looked lovely and sophisticated. Evgeni merely glanced her way, nodding with approval before gathering up all the paperwork he needed for the call.

"The report was just what I needed," Evgeni told Victor. It was his way of praising Victor indirectly. "How is her Russian progressing?" Evgeni inquired as if Yuri wasn't in the room. Not that it would matter as the conversation was in the language in question. It also indicated to Victor that Evgeni didn't want to communicate in English, though it would've made the translation process easier.

"Well," Victor responded stiffly. "It'll be easier for her today to translate to English. I'll translate to Russian."

"She needs to learn quicker," Evgeni pressed.

Victor was becoming annoyed, and he felt the need to defend her. "She's learning much quicker than others. It's only been a few months, and she has an entire language to become fluent in. Give her time."

Evgeni glared. "She doesn't have time. Maybe she should be focusing on that instead of the fulfillment of your...duty."

Victor wanted to retort because a non-response would indicate that he was indeed sneaking off for sex, but he bit his tongue. It was no use getting into an argument right before the conference call. He glanced at Yuri, who just stared at them with curiosity. It was clear she knew Victor was irritated and was unsure of what she should do. Thankfully, everyone was spared further conversation on the matter when the phone rang exactly at the specified time. Evgeni pressed a button, and the call went to the speaker.

"Moshi, moshi!" Yuri sang.

"Yuri!"

Victor had never seen such a broad smile on Yuri's face as he did the moment she heard the familiar voices of her parents. "Otō-san! Oka-san!" The greetings were followed by more rapid Japanese.

Evgeni soon cleared his throat to get Yuri's attention, and she abruptly stopped mid-sentence to look his way apologetically. "Did they look over the proposal?"

Victor relayed the question to Yuri in English, who then spoke to her parents. "Yes. They have concerns about the upgrades."

"Why?" Evgeni demanded.

"The inn is a historical building, and tourists come there for a break from modern life. The Katsukis are certain they would see a drop in guests if they completed the changes you proposed."

"And what do they want to do with the money instead?"

"Repairs," Victor replied after Yuri told him in English. "They have a list of items to be taken care of and are in the process of obtaining estimates of cost." A pause. "They said they could have the numbers sent to us in a day or two."

The conversation continued like this for a few more minutes. It was clear to Victor that Evgeni was annoyed with what the Katsukis were recommending because it wasn't the type of resort he was used to having associated with the Nikiforov name. The fact that the Katsukis were adamant about what they wanted made Victor inwardly chuckle with glee. Again, he was glad to see that they wouldn't give in so easily to Evgeni.

"Fine. I'll wait for the numbers. I'm finished talking to them," Evgeni grumbled.

Victor repeated this to Yuri. She nodded and indicated to her parents that the business was concluded. She was about to press a button to end the call when the sound of her name stopped her.

"Yuri," Hiroko's voice came over the phone, "Shiawase desu ka?"

Yuri's eyes conveyed her shock, and Victor saw her swallow thickly to tamp down deep emotion with a nod. "Shiawase," she choked out.

With that, the phone call ended. Yuri bowed to Evgeni and left the office. Victor was dumbfounded by what had just transpired. He had no idea what had been said, but it was enough to dredge up some grief in his wife, and it worried him. He knew he needed to get to the bottom of what had caused his own outburst last night before he could handle Yuri's discomfiture. He eyed Evgeni who had the gall to look completely unconcerned.

"Who told you about my afternoons?" Victor demanded softly.

Evgeni's icy eyes trailed to Victor, fixing him with a dead stare. "Your secretary."

That bitch, Victor fumed. "Of course. Such a loyal Nikiforov employee," his words were sarcastic. She's fired.

Before Evgeni could say anything else, Victor excused himself. He left the office with as much decorum as he could muster as he didn't want to alert his father that he was chasing after his wife. There was only so much evisceration he could take from his father in one day. Once the door was shut behind him, he took off down the hall to look for Yuri. He turned the corner and found her waiting for the elevator. He was glad that he had caught up to her because he had a desperate curiosity that needed to be assuaged.

"Yuri!" he called out. Yuri's head turned toward him, and Victor's heart clenched to see the sadness in her dark eyes. He wanted to comfort her, but he wasn't sure she would accept that. Instead, Victor cleared his throat and slowly approached her. "What did your mother ask you at the end of the phone call?"

Yuri inhaled sharply. Her gaze turned toward the digital display above the elevator doors to watch the numbers change. It appeared she was debating with herself whether she should answer or not. She finally exhaled and returned her attention to him. Her entire body remained facing the elevator doors, maintaining an invisible barrier between them. "She asked...if I was happy."

The question shocked Victor. He hadn't been expecting something so personal. "What did you say?"

Yuri looked away to hide her true emotions. "I told her yes."

"Why did you lie?" he blurted. He was certain she had.

"Would telling the truth change anything?"

Her tone was so despondent, it cut Victor like a knife. He opened his mouth to say something, anything to make her feel better, but the elevator took that moment to ding and slide its doors open. He watched as Yuri boarded the elevator without another glance his way. The doors slid shut, and it was like Yuri was shutting him out more than she ever had.

He had wanted to apologize for his tantrum the night before. He wanted to heal the rift between them so they could pick up where they had left off. Victor was just beginning to feel comfortable around her, and now he felt like they were back to the beginning of their relationship. Victor knew it - he had screwed up big time, and he had no idea how to fix it. He spent the rest of the day dwelling on his mistakes with Yuri. He wasn't sure how he could communicate the depth of his remorse to her without coming off as insincere to his own feelings.

That evening when Victor returned to the flat, he was greeted by darkness. Yuri was nowhere to be seen, there was no dinner on the table, and even Makkachin was absent. The somberness of the atmosphere crushed Victor, and he went through the process of removing his shoes and tie as quickly as he could in order to figure out where his wife and dog were. He made his way to the bedroom to find the door shut. He opened it to see moonlight shining upon a figure curled up under the comforter with her back to the door and an arm out petting Makkachin. Makkachin was lying in front of her.

Victor approached the bed slowly. "Yuri?"

The hand that was petting Makkachin stopped and withdrew beneath the comforter. He reached the edge of the bed, noticing that Yuri wasn't turning to face him. He sat on the edge of the bed by her hips, unsure where to begin. He hoped she would break the silence so he knew where to start, but as the minutes passed, it became obvious that she was going to remain silent.

"Yuri..." Victor finally said after he couldn't take the silence anymore. "I..."

"You must be disappointed in me," Yuri said in monotone.

"Why would...?" but Victor stopped himself from finishing that question. He knew why Yuri would think that about him. He shook his head and decided honesty was the best policy. "No. Remember what I said our wedding night?"

Yuri snorted softly with derision. "I told you that was bold of you to say. Everyone has the capacity to disappoint."

"Yeah...and I know I disappointed you."

That admission made Yuri turn so that she could gaze upon Victor. Her eyes were hard - resentful - and it made Victor quail. "How?"

"You lied to your mother about your happiness," Victor pressed. "Obviously I'd be at fault for that."

Yuri slowly sat up, the comforter and sheets pooling at her waist. She had changed from the dress she wore earlier in the day to a t-shirt and, Victor assumed, yoga pants. "Why should I be unhappy? I married the richest, most eligible bachelor in the business world and stole you from other women who are far more beautiful and suitable partners. I have no reason to be anything but happy."

The bitterness in her tone continued to cut deep into Victor's heart. Yuri wasn't saying so directly, but it was clear that she didn't think very highly of herself. Victor realized that this fact made him heartbroken because he had contributed to the narrative that she wasn't good enough. He had been so caught up in his own feelings and desires that he had failed to take into account the person he was sworn to care for for the rest of their lives.

Victor vowed then and there that he would try with every fiber of his being to treat Yuri the way she deserved to be treated. It was a vast undertaking, and it wasn't going to be easy, but he knew he needed to do this. He didn't want to end up like his parents, most of all his father. These revelations were a big blow to Victor's pride, but he knew he needed to be an adult about all of this and begin to worry about someone else rather than himself.

"I know you don't trust me much right now," Victor began, his voice almost a whisper in order to maintain some control of the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him, "but I...I realize...I haven't been the best husband to you." No response. Victor continued on. "Yesterday...I was blaming you for something that happened at the office and...I just assumed you knew what had happened. I set expectations...and didn't tell you what they were."

Yuri continued her reticence, drawing a sigh from Victor. "You're right. I didn't want to marry you." That statement caused Yuri to gasp, and he saw tears well in her eyes, but he persisted. "It wasn't because I didn't want to marry you, but because I wanted to choose my partner for myself."

Victor reached out and tucked locks of Yuri's hair behind an ear. "The other day...when I told you I thought you were beautiful? I meant it. And...I want to get to know you. I saw a glimpse of her when you danced to that metal music."

He waited expectantly for an answer. He heard Yuri sob, and he imagined the scene would play out like it did in the movies. He figured she would cry a little more, fling her arms around him, and forgive him on the spot.

That's not what happened.

"Please go."

Victor was struck dumb by her utterance. It took a moment for him to process what she said. His first reaction was to be offended, and he let himself feel it for a few seconds before taking a deep breath to calm himself. He did say this wasn't going to be easy, and Yuri had confirmed that for him. He sighed in acquiescence.

"Okay. I'll see you in the morning."

Victor vacated the room and went to the couch. He lay there for a few minutes, trying to sort through his feelings. While he hadn't said that he was sorry, he felt he had said enough to indicate that he was. He figured the ball was in Yuri's court, so to speak, and he was waiting for her next move. He hoped that she would accept his apology for what it was and give him the opportunity to prove that he meant what he said.

"Tomorrow is Saturday," Victor said out loud as he thought of things they could do together to begin to undo the damage he had already caused. He hoped that he wasn't too late.