Thank you, as always.
Fiddling was had; all mistakes are on me.
"You should come tonight."
Rosalie stands in the open doorway, leaning against the wall with her legs crossed at her ankles. Victoria doesn't need to look at her to see she looks beautiful.
Her eyes don't leave the small window, her hand reaching up to pull back the thick, lace curtain. She looks down the street to see if anyone is coming. "I have to work."
"You can work there," Rosalie scoffs, ignoring the somber tone of Victoria's voice and heading over to her closet. There isn't much in there, but she knows she must have something she can throw on for a night out. "Edward just prefers us to be discreet."
"How accommodating," Victoria answers with a roll of her eyes, ignoring Rosalie as she inspects her closet.
A few minutes later, Rosalie sits beside Victoria on her bed and places a black rayon dress with buckled black heels next to her. "He's worried about you, you know. Always has been."
Victoria huffs in annoyance, always unable to quite shake the feeling of gratitude out of her heart for her brother no matter how much she wishes she could. He may go about it completely wrong, but Rosalie is right; Edward has always had Victoria's best interest at heart.
She glances at the dress and shakes her head at Rosalie. "I can look after myself."
"Because you've done a fine job of it so far?" Rosalie retorts before placing a hand on Victoria's, squeezing it gently in her own. "I'm sorry. That was unkind of me to say, given everything you've gone through."
Victoria nods, accepting the apology. She wishes there was nothing to apologize for, but the ache in her arms and breasts for her baby cannot be ignored. "It would be nice to go with you to The Lost Key tonight," she admits sadly with a shake of her head. "Marcus wouldn't like it."
Rosalie stops and stares at Victoria as if she were a stranger. "Since when do you give a fuck about what men think of you?"
Victoria laughs, the first time in a while. "Not all men."
"Do you think Marcus has any idea about the baby?"
"There's no way of knowing," she replies. "He'll never tell me if he finds out."
"Edward made sure Marcus would never know," Rosalie reminds her. "Never know you were pregnant with his child and had the baby."
Victoria feels her shoulder tense at the lie everyone believes, clearing her throat to distract Rosalie from her being caught off-guard. "I don't think he suspects anything. I left before I was too far along."
Rosalie watches Victoria's face drift to places she has never been; her unfortunate occupation is the last place she would wish to raise a child. Instead, she reaches for Victoria's hand again. "Is she magical?"
Victoria covers her mouth with her other hand, a tiny sob escaping before she can stop it. "Made from fairy tales," she whispers before Rosalie brings her in for a comforting embrace. She holds her until Victoria shifts away.
"I'd love to meet her someday," Rosalie says, and Victoria smiles softly through her tears with a nod. "Maybe we can arrange for it."
What Rosalie doesn't know is Victoria made a vow to herself that leaving her daughter in the care of a neighbor was the best thing she could do for her. She promised herself that would be the last time she would lay eyes on her; it was better this way.
Victoria is not fit to be a mother; she is sure of it. She had spent most of her days crying for times that had never happened – and would never happen now that James was dead.
It wasn't supposed to happen the way it did, but she couldn't change that – and neither could James. Their best plan was to flee the city to raise their child together in peace, away from the dangers of Port Angeles and the people who brought it upon them.
But Marcus would never allow that. He would never allow James to walk away with one his girls, pregnant or not, and he handled the situation the way he knew best.
And now James is dead; his daughter will never know the light he was to this world, and his family will never know his life continues on beyond his own.
Victoria now lives with the darkness Marcus Volturi brought down on her family, and it has plagued her in the months since, convincing her she is worthy of nothing but the darkest things in life. She doesn't deserve to live in a room away from the city that Edward had paid for. She doesn't deserve to watch their daughter grow.
It was her fault James had died. He would still be alive if she had never met him.
It is thoughts like those that convince her to stay home tonight, even though there is a celebration at The Lost Key to honor the first anniversary of its opening. She wants to hate her brother for bringing her into the city all those years ago, to begin with, but she'll never fully be able to.
Rosalie is right. He has always been good to his little sister.
Sighing loudly in her empty room, Victoria slides a tentative finger down the dress, closing her eyes as she remembers the last time she wore it. This dress has seen good times before.
Perhaps the time is now to see good times again.
Marcus will be bothered she isn't working from her room tonight, as he loves her to be ready for him when the mood strikes. But he won't mind when she hands him his share of her earnings at the night's end. As much as her brother wants to keep his pub clean, sometimes he knows, especially on occasions such as these, that such wishes are impossible.
Tonight will be a good night for her. She'll spend time out of the hell she lives in. She'll fill her pockets with enough money to please herself and Marcus. She'll have extra to send to her daughter's caregivers.
She'll wear the dress again and remember how it feels to be beautiful.
She'll close her eyes and feel James' arms wrap around her body.
It will be as if he never left.
Tomorrow is my birthday, so maybe I'll post tomorrow too to keep the celebration going!