May 17, 1974
After greeting his mother and setting down the bags of bread and pastries in the kitchen, Pascal led Victoria upstairs where they could talk privately without any interruptions or distractions. On any other day, Claudine wouldn't have allowed her son to take a girl up to his room unsupervised, but she knew all he and Victoria intended to do was talk so she decided to make an exception just this once.
Ever the gentleman, Pascal left the door half-open so as not to make Victoria feel uncomfortable. The gesture did not go unnoticed, and Victoria silently thanked him for having thought of her in her mind.
His room was simple, and rather small. Other than a bed, a desk, a night table, some drawers, and a bookshelf, there wasn't much. Victoria was surprised to see how tidy he kept everything. She was certain her own room back home hadn't been half as organized. The only mess she was able to spot was a pile of newspapers on the floor by the bookshelf.
Following her gaze, Pascal smiled somewhat embarrassedly.
"I don't have anywhere else to put them," he explained.
"You collect them?"
Pascal nodded, "I've always been interested in print media."
"Does that interest expand to fashion magazines?" Victoria teased, "Because if I remember correctly, you made fun of me for reading one at that cafe the second time we met."
Pascal let out a laugh, "I wasn't making fun of you, I promise."
Victoria envied the way he was able to convey sincerity so easily. No matter how hard she tried to come off as friendly and approachable, she feared her hesitation to trust and initial caution made her appear disinterested and standoffish. It was something she intended to work on before classes started.
"I have something for you," she said remembering why she had come to visit Pascal in the first place. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a small, square-shaped piece of paper and handed it over to him.
As soon as Pascal saw what it was, he smiled. "The blonde dragon?"
"It was the first thing that came to mind," Victoria admitted, "I wanted to thank you for everything you've done for me but I didn't think words would be enough, so I decided to draw something. I know it isn't much..."
"It's beautiful," Pascal assured her, "you're very talented."
Victoria could feel her cheeks beginning to flush at his words. Even though they'd only known each other for about a month, his approval meant a lot to her.
"I also came here to apologize for yesterday. I wanted to tell you everything, but I was afraid you'd think less of me."
As tempted as she was to continue putting off the conversation, Victoria felt it was time to come forward with the truth. Pascal had more than proven himself worthy of her trust these past few days, and she knew their relationship would never progress if she continued to keep secrets from him.
"You can tell me," he encouraged.
Victoria bit her lip, unsure of where to start.
"Do you remember when I ran into you the day we met?" she asked.
Pascal nodded, thinking back to their first encounter at the flea market, "You were crying."
"Right," Victoria gave a stiff nod. "It was because I'd seen this booth that was selling baby clothes and it reminded me… it reminded me of my son, Patrick."
Pascal's expression altered slightly, but if he was judging her for being a mother at sixteen, he certainly wasn't showing it.
"Did he pass away?"
Victoria shook her head, "No, it's not that. I had to give him up for adoption before I came here."
"I'm so sorry," Pascal frowned, "how old was he when you last saw him?"
"Six months. He won't even remember me when he's older, but I guess it's for the best."
Pascal tried to process everything she'd just told him, but there were still too many blanks for a clear picture.
"What about Patrick's father?" he asked. "Did he help you?"
Victoria averted her gaze, "He's the reason I couldn't keep Patrick."
Pascal furrowed his brow, "I don't understand…was he your boyfriend?"
"No, he lived down the hall from me. I was living alone at the time and we became friends, so I thought I could trust him. Then one day a fuse blew out in my apartment, so I followed him down to the basement to help him fix it and he…" Victoria paused to collect herself, "he started kissing me, so I said 'no, we're just friends', but when I tried to pull away he had this look on this face."
Pascal was beginning to sense where the story was headed, but he knew Victoria had been bottling up her pain for far too long so he allowed her to continue without interruption.
"He punched me, and as soon as I fell I raised my arms to cover my face because I felt so ashamed of myself I couldn't look at him. And then he pushed my face against the cold concrete and whispered 'relax honey'…over and over and over. I wanted to fight him off, but he was bigger than me and I knew I would lose. So I stared at the pilot light underneath the water heater and waited for him to be done."
It was the first time Victoria told anyone what Jimmy had done to her, and, despite how difficult it had been to relive the memory, she was proud of herself for being able to get through it in one piece. Perhaps she was stronger than she'd ever been given credit for.
"Victoria, I'm so sorry," Pascal lamented. "I shouldn't have asked."
"No, I'm glad you did," Victoria admitted, "I know it sounds strange, but it helps to talk about it. I've kept a lot to myself these past few years and it's been really lonely."
"You've never told anyone else?"
Victoria shook her head, "I didn't have anyone to talk to after it happened. I moved out of my apartment as soon as I could, and when Patrick was born it was just me and him. Believe it or not, we were actually happy for a time."
"What happened?" Pascal's tone was curious but patient.
"Jimmy- that was his name- he started stalking me so we, uh...we ran from apartment to apartment until there was nowhere else to go."
"Were you able to keep Patrick safe from him?"
Victoria nodded, "I gave him to a woman named Sister Rebecca and warned her Jimmy might come for him. She promised me she'd keep Patrick away from him at any cost, and try to find him a good family."
"I'm glad you're both safe," Pascal said sincerely. "Paris will be good to you."
"I still can't believe I got the scholarship to study here," Victoria mused, "I don't know where I would've gone if they'd turned me down."
"You would have figured something out," Pascal assured her, "you're tougher than most."
"If that were true people wouldn't have such an easy time making a victim out of me."
It pained Pascal to realize Victoria viewed herself in such an unfavorable light. She had already been through so much and yet, here she was, ready to attend a prestigious art school in Paris after having successfully managed to save herself and her son from a violent man. Her resilience was awe-inspiring.
"What happened wasn't your fault, Victoria. Don't let the inexcusable actions of one man define you," Pascal's tone was firm but gentle.
"He wasn't the only one," Victoria's voice was barely above a whisper, but Pascal managed to catch her words nevertheless.
"Who else?" he asked quietly.
Tears were beginning to form in Victoria's eyes as she spoke, "I can't."
"You can," Pascal encouraged, "you've done great so far."
He'd made so much progress getting her to open up to him today that it killed him to see Victoria lapse back into her guarded state again. He knew how difficult it was for her to talk about these things, and he didn't want to push her, but at the same time he knew she would only ended up regretting it if she continued to hide parts of herself from him.
"My mother's boyfriend, Maxwell," Victoria answered once she was able to gather herself. "He didn't force himself on me, but he did other things that left me feeling just as dirty."
"Is that why you left home?"
A tear made its way down Victoria's cheek, "I didn't choose to leave, my mother threw me out."
Pascal's confusion was apparent in his voice, "Why?"
"She said I seduced him."
By now Victoria's shoulders were shaking and she was having a difficult time controlling her breathing, "If I did it was an accident; I never wanted him to come into my room at night."
Pascal had never felt so disgusted in his life. He didn't understand how a mother could allow her child to be taken advantage of so profoundly, and it infuriated him to know that this woman's actions had paved the way for Victoria to be violated yet again by some other man.
"I believe you," he said, "You didn't do anything wrong, Victoria. For your mother to blame you like that is just sick."
"I tried so hard to make her love me."
Pascal let out a sigh, "You shouldn't have had to try at all."
"I took the blame for her, you know. When she killed one of her lovers on Thanksgiving."
"You what?"
"She asked me tell the police I shot him to protect her and I did," Victoria recalled.
The more she divulged about her past, the worse Pascal felt.
"And they believed you?"
Victoria nodded, "I spent six months in a psychiatric hospital as a result."
"I'm so sorry, Victoria."
Were it not for her issues with boundaries, Pascal would have pulled her in for an embrace right then and there. As it was, however, he maintained his distance.
"That's it, I've told you everything," Victoria said as she wiped what was left of her tears away from her face. It was clear from her voice she was relieved at having finished confessing.
"I should hope that's it," Pascal returned, "thank you for trusting me."
"Thank you for being so understanding."
Pascal gave her a warm smile, "You see? I knew you could do it."
"Hmm," Victoria couldn't help but return his smile. He was always so good to her.
"Promise me you'll never let those circumstances define you. There is so much more to you than what you've endured."
"I promise."
"Good," Pascal nodded, satisfied.
He was just about to get up from where he was sitting on the bed when he suddenly found himself pulled into a tight embrace. His cheeks turned red as he smiled to himself, returning the hug with equal enthusiasm.
"You did well, Victoria."