As expected, Arthur had trouble falling asleep that night. Which meant, of course, that I did too. I could feel him tossing and turning next to me for hours. It felt like an eternity before he finally laid still and went to sleep.

Still, I'd gladly take this over him being miserable and traumatized. Things may not have been perfect today, but at least he was alright. He was upset, but he was working through it. I suppose that was the best I could ever ask for in this situation. He said so himself, he'd get through this eventually.

I wasn't sure I could say the same about myself though. It felt like I'd only had my eyes closed for a second when the bright, early-morning sun made me open them again. I was absolutely exhausted. I know Arthur wanted to start sharing a bed, but I wasn't sure how often I could do this if he expected me to function the next day.

I groaned as I forced myself out of bed. I dragged myself to the closet to get dressed. Maybe if I was lucky today, I'd have Henry or someone else who didn't really need me around. At least then I could get a nap in.

I couldn't help but laugh a bit as I thought of this. To think, there used to be a time when I always wanted Mr. Weston to be one of my boyfriends. God, how things had changed.

As I left the closet, I noticed Mr. Weston shifting in bed. I hurried over to his bedside. Whoever he was, it would be better to be by his side when he woke up.

He grunted softly as he rolled onto his side. His eyes landed on me as he opened them. I smiled at him warmly.

"Good morning, Sir."

He let out a soft laugh and smiled. "Morning, Darling."

That told me everything I needed to know. I sat next to him on the bed and leaned in to kiss him.

"Morning, Jack."

He leaned up and wrapped his arms around my waist. He pulled me on top of him and laid back down, squeezing me gently. Normally, I would have chastised him, but not this time. I was still exhausted and his body was beyond comfortable right now. I could have fallen asleep right then and there.

His lips against the top of my head helped wake me a little. "Long time no see?"

I smiled at the way he asked it like a question. "A few days for sure. Feels like more when I think about it though. It's been one hell of a long week..."

"Oh, god. Who caused you trouble this time?"

He sounded exhausted himself as he asked that. I wrapped my arms around his neck and nuzzled against his chest. Despite all my complaints a second ago, I was glad Jack was here today. He was the one I always felt like I could vent to about my job. Even if it was about him.

"Henry, Oliver, Victor, and Arthur. In that order," I explained.

"You finally talked to Arthur? How did it go? Did you tell him?"

God, how to explain that mess? This was something I always had trouble with. Trying to find the balance between the privacy in our individual relationships, and what they had the right to know as a shared person. I decided that bare minimum was probably best in this case.

I sighed. "Yeah, I told him. It went... okay. I guess. It was a really rough day though. Lots of denial, lots of tears. He's finally accepted it, but he's not necessarily happy about it. We're working through it still."

He kissed my forehead gently and petted my head. His touch was so comforting. It was like I could just melt from it.

"Sorry, I know all that must have been hard on you," he murmured.

"It's fine," I insisted. "Arthur had it a lot harder than I did after all. Besides, the hard part is over now. It's all acceptance and recovery from here."

He smiled and gave me another gentle squeeze. "I hope he realizes how lucky he is to have you."

He didn't ask me any more questions. That was one of the things I loved most about Jack. He never pushed me for information about the others. He always trusted that I'd tell him everything he needed to know.

We laid together silently for a while. I'm sure part of it was basking in the moment, but most of it was exhaustion. I could barely keep my eyes open as I laid in his arms.

I hated this. I didn't want to fall asleep with Jack here. Our time together was limited enough as is. However, it seemed like I didn't have a choice in the matter. My eyes just wouldn't stay open.

I closed them for two seconds. Just to rest them. At least, that's what I thought I did. The hand that suddenly started to shake my back said otherwise.

"Darling? Darling? It's time to get up now," he called softly.

"Hmm?" I hummed sleepily.

"You fell asleep again. I guess you did have a long day yesterday."

"Sorry," I muttered against his neck. "Arthur has trouble falling asleep when we share a bed. I tried telling him we didn't have to, but he insisted. I guess he wants to catch up to you and Victor now."

"Are you two having sex yet?" He asked.

I snickered. "He can't even sleep with me in the same bed. You really think we're having sex?"

He chuckled a little himself. "Alright, I suppose that was a stupid question. I guess it's none of my business anyway.

Moving on. What else did I miss this week? Arthur couldn't have been the only thing that happened. You also said there was Victor, Henry, and... Sorry, who was the other one again?"

"Oliver."

"Oliver?"

He went silent. Curiosity finally beat out sleepiness in my mind. I glanced up at him. He was staring off into the distance. He looked confused.

"You don't know Oliver, if that's what you're trying to figure out," I explained. "He's new."

"New?"

"Yup. Brand new. He didn't even have a page in Thomas's book."

He let out a frustrated sigh. "Why? Why do they keep showing up? God, I'm already how many people? When is enough finally going to be enough?"

I was a little surprised by how upset he sounded. Jack was usually pretty indifferent towards his condition. I knew he wasn't happy about it, but it never really seemed to bother him much. At least, not since we firmly established our relationship.

He was scowling down at the bed now. I reached up and stroked his cheek.

"Hey now, stop that pouting. You're starting to look like Victor."

"I can't help it," he grumbled. "I'm so sick of this. When will it finally end? How many more are there going to be? Will I just keep splitting like this until the day I die? It's bad enough having the ones I do have, but..."

I felt so sorry for him. Of course he was upset. A lot of these personalities may not have been frequent, but they still took up space while they were here.

Three-hundred and sixty-five days in a year and he probably didn't even spend half of them as himself. Every new persona was a day stolen from him. Another day that he didn't exist. He had to be tired of it by now.

I leaned up and kissed him gently. "I'm sorry. I wish I could do something to help you..."

His eyes went a little wide at this. "Huh? Oh, Darling, no. Don't say that. It's not like any of this is your fault. With or without you I'd be stuck with them.

Besides, you are helping me. Having you around makes all this a little easier to bear. I used to dread going to bed each night. Never knowing who I'd be or how long until I was myself again. It was miserable.

But now, I have you. Now, I don't care so much about what happens when I'm gone. I know you'll be right here waiting for me when I get back. That simple fact alone put my mind at ease more than you could possibly imagine."

I smiled and rested my head against his chest. He was right. I would be waiting for him. I'd always wait for him. No matter how many people he became in the future, I'd always be right here waiting.

The hall clock chimed at that moment. He perked up a little at the sound.

"Goodness, we've been in bed for a while. Breakfast is probably cold by now, but why don't we go eat something?" He suggested.

"Ah!" I cried, remembering. "Actually, you head there first. I need to meet with the cleaners today. I'll be there soon."

He sighed. "Alright. If you must."

He squeezed me one more time before releasing me from his arms. I scurried up and ran out the door.

Thank god I got dressed before he woke up. I really needed some kind of alarm or something to remind me about days like this. I just hoped I didn't leave them waiting for too long.

Luckily, it seemed like I didn't. I actually saw a couple of the cleaners just heading into the room themselves. That fact helped me to relax a little.

Jack was right. I really did need to eat breakfast. My stomach was already aching before I even started the briefing. Giving out assignments felt like it took forever. By the time the last person finally left, my stomach was practically roaring.

I hurried out of the room myself. Only to almost collide with one of the supervisors. I stumbled as I tried to avoid running into him.

"Woah!" He grabbed my arms to help steady me. "Sorry, Ms. Walton. Wasn't trying to trip you."

"Ah, that's alright," I reassured him, straightening up. "Do you need something?"

"I just wanted to check-in about that window," he explained. "Did the handyman ever get to it?"

"Yes, he actually came the next day. He cleared out the old glass and patched up the hole, but I guess he needed to order a special pane to replace the one that was broken. He said he'd be back in about a week or so."

"Okay, good." He sounded relieved. "I wasn't sure how busy Donny would be with the storm and all. Didn't want you getting upset if he hadn't come yet."

I smiled and shook my head. "No, it's fine. Really. I know this place is kind of out of the way. It only makes sense that it'd take a little longer for things to get done here. You don't have anything to worry about."

His shoulders seemed to relax a bit as I said this. Honestly, I was a little surprised. Thomas didn't exactly strike me as the tyrannical type, so why did he seem so worried about something so small?

"Anna?"

We both turned. Jack was standing in the hall, staring at us. I immediately slipped into the "servant" role.

"Oh, hello, Sir. Is there something that you need?"

He picked up the hint immediately. "No, Ms. Walton, I was just coming to see what was taking you."

"Sorry, Sir. I needed to talk with one of the supervisors about something," I explained, gesturing towards him.

Jack glanced at him briefly. "Why? Is everything okay?"

To my surprise the supervisor went a little pale. He looked scared for some reason. I mean, I know the staff didn't really see Mr. Weston very much, but he wasn't that intimidating, was he?

"Yes, he was just checking in to make sure the handyman came to look at the broken window." He gave me a confused look. "I mentioned it to you the other day, but it was on one of your... 'bad days.' You just might not remember."

"Ah," he said, understanding. "Well... come have breakfast when you're done then. I'll see you in the dining room."

He nodded to us briefly and walked away. I glanced at the supervisor. He looked like he was about to collapse. I don't think he even started breathing again until Mr. Weston was out of sight. He let out a deep sigh of relief. I was concerned.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

My voice seemed to startle him again. "Huh? What? Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Thanks."

"Are you sure?" I insisted. "You look like you're about to be sick. Did Mr. Weston say something to upset you?"

I mean, it didn't sound like Jack said anything too horrible, but maybe it was a misunderstanding.

"No, no, it's not that," he said quickly. "It's just..."

He paused. He seemed to be debating about whether he could tell me or not. Apparently he decided he could. He sighed and scratched his head.

"Look, I-I don't mean anything offensive by this, but... being around Mr. Weston can be a little scary for us."

"Really? Why? He's not dangerous or anything. He-"

"No, no. It's nothing like that. It's just that he's the boss, you know?" He explained. "At the end of the day, he's the one who writes the paychecks. One wrong word and we could be out of a job. It makes being near him feel like a lot of pressure."

I could understand where he was coming from. After all, it's not like I'd never been in that position myself. Keeping quiet and keeping your head down hoping you didn't do anything to upset the person paying your bills.

And he had a hell of a lot more people to worry about than I did. If I lost a job, it was just me who was out of luck, but they had how many employees? I guess I could see why he might be a little nervous about saying the wrong thing around Mr. Weston.

"You really don't need to worry about that. Mr. Weston isn't that kind of person," I reassured him. "Aside from that, I'm sure you already know this having worked with Thomas for so many years, but I'm the one in charge of the household duties. Mr. Weston trusts that job to me completely. He'd never make such a rash decision without talking to me first, and I promise I wouldn't agree to something like that so easily. Your company does good work. You'd be very hard to replace."

He smiled a bit. "Glad to hear it. Again, I don't mean anything offensive by all this. I-"

"No, I understand completely. I promise you have nothing to worry about though," I repeated. "Just keep up the good work. Okay?"

"You got it." He paused for a bit. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, umm, that's kind of all I had to tell you about, so I guess I'll be getting back to work now."

"Of course. You know how to reach me if there are any problems."

He nodded and gave me another small smile before turning to leave. Somehow, I felt a twinge of guilt as I watched him walk away. Maybe it was because I knew that, despite my best efforts, I probably didn't do much to put his mind at ease.

My life was good now. I had a well paying job, a beautiful home, and enough authority to have some control over the things that happened around me. But it wasn't always like that.

I still remembered what it was like to struggle. To beg and plead with my co-workers to give me their shifts so I could earn enough money to pay rent, to live off instant noodles for three days in a row just so I could save money by not buying groceries that week, to wrap myself in ten blankets during the winter because I couldn't afford the cost of turning up the heat. It was a miserable existence.

I looked around for a moment. The intricate molding, the high ceiling, the polished floor. I'd lived in apartments that weren't half as nice as this, and this was a hallway.

Never in a thousand years would I ever say Mr. Weston had had an easy life. But he didn't know poverty.

He'd never know that fear. The fear that at any moment, one little slip-up could make you lose everything. He'd never have to worry about car repairs, or grocery bills, or where he was going to get the money to fix a broken window. It was easy to see why the cleaners would be intimidated by a man like that. I certainly would be.

Or, at least, I would have been. But now? Not so much. Right now, all I was thinking about was that that man was waiting for me to come eat breakfast with him.

I sighed as I remembered that little fact. I shook my head and started heading for the dining room. After all, I didn't want him to come searching for me again and scare more of the cleaners.

Although I understood why the cleaners felt intimidated by Mr. Weston, I still didn't like the idea that they were. I knew Mr. Weston. Several of him, in fact. Minus a couple of exceptions, he was the kindest man I'd ever met. He was gentle, he was honest, he really cared about people. I just hated the idea that there were people so close to him who couldn't see that.

Then again, I suppose I was a little more biased than your average employee, being his girlfriend and all. I spent every day with him. The cleaners barely even saw him in passing. You could hardly compare the two experiences. Especially since the way he treated me was so different too.

The way his face lit up as I walked into the dining room only seemed to prove my point. I couldn't help smiling as I saw him. Part of me wished everyone could see him the way I saw him. Then again, I guess part of me was also happy I got to keep this side of him all to myself. I took my usual set next to him and started making a plate.

"So what's this about a window?" He asked.

"We had a really bad storm the other day," I explained. "It cracked one of the panes of glass in the second floor study. A handyman came and cleared out the broken glass so it wouldn't shatter, but he had to order a special replacement for it, so it's just patched for now. He'll fix it sometime next week probably."

"Goodness, was the storm that bad?"

"Bad enough for me to call Philip and tell him to stay home. Luckily, Henry showed up that day, so it all worked out."

"Well, that's good at least. Was there any more damage?"

"The storm just damaged the window. Although I caused a bit of damage upstairs," I admitted.

"Huh?"

"Oh, the power went out for a while," I explained. "I couldn't see where I was going in the attic and I knocked over a pile of... Well, something. I actually still need to clean that mess..."

"What in the world were you doing in the attic?" He asked, shocked. "The cleaners don't even go up there."

"Again, it was a bad storm. I was checking for leaks. At least, I was supposed to be," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "I got distracted by an album I found up there and spent most of the afternoon looking at it. Between that, and Henry, and the power, I barely got anything done."

"Album?" He sounded confused. "What kind of album was it?"

My heart fluttered nervously as he asked that. I wished I hadn't mentioned it. I really didn't want to tell him if I could avoid it. He seemed to notice my hesitance.

"Anna, you're hiding something," he said sternly. "Come on, what was in it? Is it something I should be worried about?"

I didn't know if he should worry, but I was definitely worried about it. After all, it was his family. Just because the accident was a long time ago, didn't mean that he was over it necessarily. At best, I'm sure seeing something like that would hurt him, and I didn't even want to think about what might happen at worst.

"Anna."

I jumped a bit. I'd nearly forgotten he was here. He was pouting slightly, still waiting for me to give him an answer. I sighed and looked down at the table. I guess there was really no way around it. I'd already burned that bridge just by mentioning the album. Avoiding the truth would just make him worry more.

"It... was an album about your family."

"Goodness, is that all," he muttered, shaking his head. "And here I was worried Arthur might have taken more inappropriate pictures or something."

"You're not upset?"

He shrugged. "Why would I be? There must be over a hundred old albums lying around up there. What do I care if you looked at one? Which generation was it? Do you know?"

Generation? It suddenly clicked for me what he was talking about.

Right. It was just like he said, that old attic must have had hundreds of album in it. It only made sense that most of them would be from his ancestors. All of which would technically be his "family." He probably had no idea what I meant when I said that.

Which should have been a good excuse to drop the subject. It was easy enough to do. Just say I didn't know what generation, lie about a couple of the pictures I saw, and move on like I'd never even mentioned it.

But I didn't want to do that.

Words could not describe how much easier my life would be if I didn't care so much about lying to him. There were so many times in our relationship where I could have saved myself a lot of pain and heartache just by telling him a little fib or two. I  knew that, and I still couldn't do it.

I'd been lied to in relationships before. I knew how much it hurt to find out the truth, even about the small things. The big lies were bad, but somehow, the small lies were so much worse.

They were worse because they were small. Because it was just too easy to tell them. Because they added up over time. Because when you finally learned exactly how many times you'd been lied to, it didn't matter what the lies were about anymore. The number was just too high to ignore.

It made you start questioning everything they'd ever said to you. After all, if they could lie so many times about things that were so small, then how many big things were they lying about? Soon, you never knew what you could believe.

I didn't want to do that to him. I didn't want to create that doubt, that fear inside his mind. I wanted him to know that he could always trust me. Even with the small things.

I sighed deeply. "Jack... I mean it's about your family. Not just the Westons. I mean your actual family."

"My family?" He still sounded confused.

I bit my lip and look down at the table. I couldn't say it while looking at him. I couldn't stand to see that pain in his eyes.

"It... It looks like it was your mother's album," I explained. "It's all pictures of your family. You, your parents, your brother."

He was silent. I couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing though, and I was too terrified to look. The seconds were agonizingly slow as I waited for him to respond. I was starting to worry if he ever would.

"Where is it?" He asked finally.

"Jack, I'm not sure if you should-"

"Where is it?" He repeated firmly.

His tone stunned me. Jack never spoke to me that harshly. It was enough to make me finally look up at him.

He didn't look angry, but he did look upset. And I couldn't really blame him for it. Whether I thought it was a good idea or not, it wasn't my place to tell him that he couldn't see it. That album was his property, his family. He had every right to see it with his own eyes.

"I think it's still in Arthur's studio. I showed it to him yesterday to help convince him he was sick," I mumbled. "It was the thing that finally forced him to accept it."

"Why were you so willing to show it to Arthur, but so desperate to hide it from me?"

He looked hurt. Again, I had no one but myself to blame for that. He was right. It wasn't fair to him. He deserved the truth just as much as Arthur or any of the others did.

"I didn't care about showing it to him because he doesn't remember it," I explained. "I showed it to him to help convince him that there was a time when he was another person. That there was a time before 'he' existed. And honestly, just learning that much almost destroyed him.

But you? This was your family. You knew them, you remember them, and I know you remember everything about the accident too.

I don't want to have you relive all that pain. I don't want to see you suffer like that. How could I ever forgive myself for giving you something that I know is going to break you?"

My voice broke on that last sentence. I could feel the tears stinging my eyes. I heard him sigh.

"It's not fair."

"I know that!" I cried. A sob broke through my throat. "I know you have every right to see it, but-"

"I'm not talking about the album, I'm talking about you."

He reached over and brushed the tears from my cheek. I glanced up, he was smiling sadly. He tucked my hair behind my ear gently.

"Just the thought of me being in pain is enough to have in tears like this. It should be illegal for one woman to be able to love a man so much," he teased.

I sniffled and pushed his hand away from me, wiping my cheeks. "This is a stupid time to be making jokes."

"I know," he murmured, lacing his fingers with mine. He brought my hand to his lips. "But I had to get you to stop crying somehow."

I smiled at him weakly. He was right. As stupid as it was, it did get me to stop crying. He reached over and brushed the last of my tears from my cheeks.

"Anna, I understand why you're worried about me. I do. After all, the mere fact that I'm sick now means that you were right. There was a time in my life where the pain of it all was just too much to bear. There was a time when it broke me.

But that was when I was a child," he emphasized. "I'm not that scared little boy anymore though. I accepted what happened to my family a long time ago. I can't fix the things that have already broken in my mind, but I can promise you it's going to take a lot more than a couple of photos for it to get any worse."

"But what if it does?" I asked desperately. "You can't know that it won't. You-"

"I can," he insisted. "And I know that it won't. Because I have something now that I never had as a child. I have you.

Do you even realize that you're probably the only reason that Arthur was even somewhat able to accept the truth about us? That you're the reason Victor's gone from being a sleazy playboy to a loving and devoted boyfriend? That you're the reason that I no longer dread going to sleep at night?

Anna, you're so much more to us than I think you even realize. You're more than a caretaker, more than a lover even. You are everything to us. And I promise you, as long as you're here with me, then there is nothing in this world that can break me."

I could feel my heart thumping in my chest. His sincerity echoed in every word. Maybe I still didn't think I was all that special, but he did. And I trusted him a lot more than I trusted myself.

I pushed myself away from the table and stood up. He reached out and grabbed my wrist. He looked nervous.

"Where are you going?" He asked.

"Upstairs. There's an album that I need to get."

His smile at that moment was warm. He gave my wrist a gentle squeeze before finally releasing it. I brushed my hand along his shoulder as I headed for the door.

He said that I was their everything. That as long as he was with me, there was nothing in this world that could break him. But that still didn't stop the knots from forming in my stomach as I walked upstairs.

I know he didn't want me to worry about him so much, but I just couldn't help it. I was always going to worry about him. After all, how could I not?  He was my everything too.