Thirteen days.
Conrad felt like he was losing his mind. She hadn't run off, but she was gone. She barely ate (at least from what he could see.) She listened to her children but didn't bring much to their conversations. She didn't banter with Conrad. She didn't even acknowledge him since the fight.
They had terrible fights but nothing like this. He knew he crossed the line and he was powerless to stop the words. He knew that she was more upset over his notion that she would betray him so deeply, but also that Victoria had truly thought of Edward as a father.
He was used to her throwing things at him. That he could handle. He had grown accustomed to her lashing out with her words. Although they often made him wince with pain, he could handle that. But silence? He was dumbfounded on what to do.
Victoria wasn't even angry anymore. Hurt? Absolutely. But watching Conrad struggle to cope with his fathers death this week broke her heart. She knew she hadn't made it easier, but it gave her a twisted sense of power to watch him move around the manor, unable to figure out how to get through to her. Ironically, the more she pushed him away the stronger her desire for him became. She was grateful for separate bedrooms when she woke up calling his name after an erotic dream. Originally she chalked it up as a fluke, but night after night she called out to him. It wasn't just the physicality of being with Conrad again, but she was satisfied at the notion that she could fix him. She hadn't just slept with him, she helped him. That's what she wanted back.
She sat on her bed, rereading the same page from her novel. She couldn't keep her focus because her thoughts kept going back to Conrad.
He entered her room without knocking, hoping and expecting her to yell and fight him. She didn't. She stared at him, waiting for words that never came. After a few moments Victoria silently lifted the corner of the blanket on the other side of the bed, inviting him to lay with her.
"Victoria, I'm-" He started. She put a finger to his mouth, silencing him as she climbed on top of him. She held his hands above his head as she left kisses along his cheeks and lips. She straddled him, pressing her hips into him.
Conrad didn't know what to make of his wife's behavior, but he didn't question it. As soon as she let his hands go he was all over her. He grabbed her hair, but kept his hands moving along her skin. He was grateful for the ability to reach out and touch her. She eased herself on top of him, moaning as they found their rhythm. He couldn't take her eyes off of her as she tossed her head back, lost in this moment with him. He held himself back, waiting until he felt her body shudder to find his own release.
Afterwards, they settled into bed, neither breaking the silence. They didn't cuddle, they didn't speak. He wrapped an arm over her when she rolled away from him. Within a few minutes he could tell she had fallen asleep. Only then did he inch closer to her, holding her against him as he drifted to sleep.