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Chapter Two
Butterflies…Butterflies…
Victoria paced the floor of her bedroom, pulling the fabric of her skirt. She sighed, tired from her pacing, and sat down on the large oak bed. She clenched her fist. God, she hated butterflies.
She was experiencing a blend of feelings and thoughts: confusion, sadness, worry, suspicion…and envy. Moreover, feeling stupid for having this envy!
"That's ridiculous." She said, with a small, forced laugh. "He can't possibly be holding on to that. She's gone…" she said. "Gone."
Victoria placed her hands in her lap, and began to wring them again. Gone. That's what she told herself when she had awoken from those nightmares, plaguing her for the weeks following her marriage. That's what she told herself whenever she cast a bitter glance to a passing butterfly.
Victoria shook her head. She was a stupid woman. Even if Victor did love her, there was nothing she could do about it….
"NO!" Victoria half-shouted, rising from the bed, her eyebrows knitted in and angry glare. She marched towards her vanity, and looked herself in the eye.
"Listen here!" She pointed her finger at the mirror, not stopping to realize she was talking to her reflection. "Victor does not love Emily! He is not still thinking about her, and there is NO possible way she's is ever coming back!"
She pulled in a long shaky breath, the embarrassment, setting in.
"Oh…" she sighed, sitting down on the stool in front of her vanity. She cleared a strand of hair from her face. Looking up, she saw that during her fretful pacing, her bun had come loose. Removing the pins, she began to rewind the silken black hair into it's tight chignon.
She bit her lip. Emily was beautiful. Was she beautiful enough for Victor? Victoria groaned, perhaps louder than she meant to. She was going berserk. And the screaming at her reflection hadn't helped a bit.
She tried to focus on all the happy months together. All of the kisses, and all the times he'd made her laugh (sometimes unintentionally, as a result of his clumsiness). Slowly, she recalled every 'I love you.' They didn't seem fake, or insincere.
Hadn't Victor become lost in his thoughts lately? For the past week, he seemed to be daydreaming, or staring off, thinking deeply. It was their anniversary, Damn it! A good bloody time to have second thoughts!
Frazzled, Victoria began to cry softy, feeling like more of an idiot with each tear, but going on nonetheless.
"I can't go on like this…" Victoria mumbled. "I have to make up my mind! I'm going insane!"
"Victoria!" Victor's voice sounded from the stairs. Victoria gasped in surprise, and hastily dried away her tears. She picked up her foundation and quickly applied a coat on her cheeks. She sighed. She had always cherished the fact that Victor treated her as a human being, rather than a mindless woman. Unlike most planned marriages, they were in love. Or so she thought.
And she hoped.
"Victoria!"
Victoria glanced at her reflection. She smiled weakly in satisfaction. No one could tell she had been crying.
The door opened. Victor walked in, his face, puzzled.
"Victoria? Why would you answer me?"
Victoria bit her lip. "I'm sorry. I was engrossed…" she looked around the room for an excuse, and settled on the book Pride and Prejudice.
"In my reading." She spat, running to the nightstand that housed the book. "Yes, and in the midst of it, my hair unwound, and I had to fix it."
Victor nodded half-heartedly, as if his mind was on something else. Victoria growled under her breath. She wanted to smack him, and demand to know what he was thinking about. She wanted to burn the piano. Yes, set it up in flames….
No, you jealous twit! That won't solve anything! He'll only hate you more!
"Love? You look a bit preoccupied? Are you alright?" Victor asked. Victoria snapped her head up to meet her husband's gaze.
I'm preoccupied? "Yes Dear, I'm fine." She said icily. "And I think I'll go out for a stroll…"
Stiffly, she turned sharply, and walked out the door. Tossing her head, she smiled triumphantly.
That went fairly well.