The country club seemed like a simple enough feat. Victoria didn't seem troubled as she strutted towards the changing rooms. She hadn't even hesitated before going into the women's locker room. He hadn't expected her to, her problems hadn't stemmed from another female.

He couldn't help but admire her as she reemerged. Although the ordeal had left her skinnier than she already was, her white tennis outfit made her hair seem darker than it already was and even gave her porcelain skin the illusion of being more tan. Of course, he had always loved the way the hem of her tennis dress fell in the middle of her thigh and the way her hair swished from side to side in it's high ponytail.

"Are we playing?" She asked, although she was already headed towards the court. He followed behind her, wondering how he had ever gotten so lucky as to be anywhere near her. Her determination to put this behind her amazed him. He knew she was strong, but this was so much more than that. She was such a power box that he felt honored to be around her.

They played tennis, laughing and enjoying each other's company. He was grateful that she didn't have a strong reaction like she'd had with other things, but he knew that it would be touch and go for a while. The biggest things didn't phase her and yet the smallest things caused the biggest reactions. He had expected it but the reality of it still stung.

He was grateful that he knew his wife so well. He had already formulated a plan when she leaned over the net, wiping her forehead with.

"You've lost your touch."

"I let you win. There's a difference." He said, flashing her a smile.

"Let's get changed."

He grabbed her waist as they approached the sauna, whispering dirty thoughts in her ear. He could feel the heat of her blush, but knew his wife better than that. He wasn't expecting her to agree. The opposite, actually.

"Not in there," she said, wrinkling her nose "everyone sweats in there."

"That's the intention."

"I'm not sitting -or whatever the case may be- on a spot where I don't know who has been dripping sweat all over the place."

He smiled. She was too easy sometimes.

"Fine. This will have to do..." He said, steering her into the massage room. He knew she wasn't a fan of having strangers touch her, so he had booked the room and given the staff the day off. As much as he would have liked to get intimate in the middle of the sauna, what he really wanted was to give Victoria a massage. He wanted to fill the country club with good memories like they did at the coffee shop, but he also knew that her body ached. Although she'd never acknowledge it, she had to be sore from the way Eric had handled her.

"I hope this isn't for me. You know I hate having strange people paw at me."

"It is for you, but I sent the masseuse home for the day. I found the perfect person for the job."

"Who?"

"Me." He said, holding his hands out to her. The smile he received made him smile in return. She was reluctant but agreed, laying on the massage table. She triple checked that the door was locked, but eventually stepped out of her dress and unhooked her bra so Conrad could massage her back.

Victoria hadn't let herself admit how much she hurt since the attack. She was constantly aware of the way her body screamed at her, crying over it's bumps, bruises and cuts. And yet she silenced that voice inside herself, refusing to give Eric any more power than he had already stolen from her. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn't stop from believing that if she ignored the physical pain she could ignore the mental anguish as well.

Conrad could feel Victoria start to relax, her tense body slowly turning to putty because of his hands. Her breathing changed, and he knew she had dozed off. He was grateful for her sake. He wished she wouldn't fight resting, but he knew that with her nightmares it wasn't as simple to her. It was impossible for her to find even a shred of relaxation when she woke up screaming every time. The thing that caused her the most stress was the thing she needed the most.

He moved across the room, trying to find something to cover her with. He had hoped to find a blanket, but settled on a towel. As he covered her, his hand brushed against her bare skin. It was such an innocent touch and yet it was enough to send Victoria into a panic. She jumped off the table, screaming to be left alone. Conrad tried reasoning with her, attempting to hand her the dress. She not only refused, but it pushed her further into her flashbacks. As a result, she crouched down in the corner of the room, burying her head between her knees as she sobbed.

Conrad wanted to grab her, hold her, reassure her but he knew that she wasn't in the right frame of mind. He worried that the littlest pressure from him would send her further away from the past. Instead, he waited patiently for her to wear herself out. Since the kidnapping, Victoria had reminded him of Charlotte as a toddler. They both fought sleep constantly. They both got worked up and were untouchable at their worst. And just like Charlotte as a toddler, Conrad knew that sometimes the best thing for Victoria was to let her cry herself out.

Luckily, Victoria was still asleep when the doctor entered the room. Conrad had covered her with a towel.

"How is she doing?" The doctor asked.

"It comes in waves. She'll be fine and then have a meltdown."

"And specific triggers?"

Conrad sighed. Everything seemed to set her into a panic.

"It's been getting more frequent, but she's been pushing herself to recover-"

"Pushing herself how?"

"Revisiting the places she encountered Eric before the abduction. She thinks that by facing those fears she'll be able to get over what happened."

"It isn't fear that's holding her back. The more she pushes the memories down the more they will seep into her everyday life. Visiting the places she bumped into Eric isn't what is holding her back. What happened in that apartment is. Until she can handle that, she has little chance to avoid these type of meltdowns."

The doctor injected Victoria with a sedative. Victoria whimpered but did not wake. Conrad quickly put her dress back on and carried her to the table so the doctor could reexamine her.

"These cuts on her wrist are still dangerously close to an infection. I'm going to prescribe stronger antibiotics and a stronger antibiotic ointment."

"I understand."

"Try to keep her out of high heels. Her ankle is still a little swollen. Has she mentioned it?"

"She refuses to mention any type of pain."

"I'm going to give you a few prescriptions. Pay careful attention to her. If you notice her showing signs of discomfort in her neck, back, headaches, anything like that just give her the medicine. I'd rather you have it all on hand instead of waiting. And I'm going to give you the injections for sedative-"

"I don't-"

"If she won't take them, you may need to inject her with it. You need to take care of her when she can't."

Conrad nodded, but even as the doctor handed him the prescriptions he wasn't sure he'd have the strength to force an injection on Victoria.

He brushed the hair out of her face as he carried her out of the country club and back to the car. As the driver headed home, he couldn't help but think he was in the same position that he had been almost a week ago, holding his drugged, sore, traumatized wife so she would be able to wake up in the comfort of her own bed.