She seemed more docile when he returned and he made a mental note to threaten her with a trip to the hospital more often.
She let him curl into bed with her while they watched movies, although she remained quiet the rest of the day. He knew her games, she was trying to keep up her end of the deal to avoid the hospital but keep her distance from any chance of heartache. It pained him how closed off she was when it came to him. He couldn't help but wonder if she had been like that with David.
Knowing he had the slightest hint of leverage against her, he broached the subject.
"Vic, can I ask you a personal question?"
"As long as I don't end up in the hospital." She said dryly. She knew what he was doing, diving in when she would be powerless to fight him. It was those tactics that made him a success in the business world, but also a terrible husband.
"Did you love him?"
"Who?" She asked, fully aware who he meant. David. Every road they took always lead back to David Clarke.
"Answer me."
"You know the answer."
"What did you love about him?" He asked. He wasn't angry anymore, just curious.
"I loved who I became when I was with him."
"And who was that? Vicky Harper?"
"No. I don't know who I was. I felt beautiful, needed, desired, appreciated." The memory of her former lover brought a smile to her face.
"Who are you when you're with me?" He asked. He had always assumed he made her feel those things, at least when he put in an effort.
"I'm a trophy wife, Conrad. You strut me around at parties and in front of investors. We look good together and make for great photo ops on page six. I do feel beautiful and needed when I'm with you, but only in the sense that I'm a mirage, a temptation for investors to shell out money."
"I want to fix that. Tell me what to do."
"I don't know, Conrad. It was so effortless with David. The way he looked at me, the softness of his touch, the desire in his stare-"
"You can't tell me I don't look at you that way. That's the only way I look at you!" He was starting to get defensive, although he knew he shouldn't.
"I'm not saying that. You and him are different elements. That's all."
"Different elements?"
"When I'm with you, it's like being caught in a wild fire. There's constant sparks, sexual tension, undeniable chemistry because that's what we are, undeniable." He felt slightly proud of himself. That didn't seem like a bad thing to him. "But being with David, it was like floating in the water. I could feel the sun on my skin but there was no danger of burning. It was relaxing, calming, tranquil. What I did wasn't right, but at the time it felt right, it felt like the first swim of summer."
Conrad had never thought of romance in those sort of terms. He had spent all this time thinking of a competition between himself and David Clarke. She hadn't chosen David, she had simply experienced a different season with him.
He let his hand run slowly along her leg. He knew she was sick, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted to try and be gentle and tender. He wanted to try to prove to her that he could be more than a fireball threatening to scorch her.
"You'll get sick," she whispered, aware of his intentions. She secretly hoped he would continue on despite her sickness. He had never been so calm or curious about David Clarke. For the first time, he seemed accepting of her past instead of competitive against it.
"I don't care. I can't wait. I want you. Now." He expected her to deny him but she laid herself flatly on the bed, giving him her submission.
He kissed her gently, only allowing his lips to brush against hers before moving along to her neck. He took his time, knowing that skin was more sensitive than any other spot on her body. He let his hand trail along, enjoying the goosebumps that popped up. Her back arched, and she was desperate for him and he knew it. He sucked gently on her nipple, enjoying the image of her with her eyes closed, enjoying the attention. He felt proud of how relaxed she seemed, especially since she'd been so miserable the entire time she was sick.
Instead of teasing and tormenting her, he relented and hovered over her. He held her chin in his hand, forcing eye contact and he dipped into her slowly. A small moan escaped her lips. He moved slowly, patiently regardless of how hard her hips tried to crash into his. He knew what she wanted, but he could be gentle, too. He inched closer, kissing her neck as he continued thrusting. Instead of digging her nails into him, she held him gently, pressing her body against his. He could feel her tighten around him. He let his mouth move closer to her ear, whispering her name as he came.
"Were you trying to compete with my memories of him?" She finally asked.
"No. I know I can't compete with his ghost. I'm just trying to show you that I look at you the same way." Conrad said. He noticed Victoria's hesitation and excused himself to grab her tea.
Victoria felt like the room was spinning. She had never felt that way with Conrad. She didn't know what to make of it. She hated to admit it, but she couldn't help but try to imagine how much simpler things would have been in the hospital.