It was like a dream. The warm glow of sunset softened the edges of everything it touched. The flowers almost seemed to melt into the background of the rosy sky. Somehow, their scent seemed even stronger as the light faded. The church bells seemed to echo in my chest as they pealed. Tears clouded my vision from the pure beauty of this moment.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson," the priest called out.

The small group burst into applause and cheers. Myself included. Thomas beamed out from his spot at the alter. Laura, his fiancée- well, his wife now- looked just as thrilled as she clung to his arm. I was so happy for both of them.

I jumped a bit as a sheet of white suddenly blocked my vision. A tissue. I glanced over to see Mr. Weston smiling as he held it out to me. I returned his smile sheepishly as I took it.

"Thanks."

"A little emotional, are we?" He asked.

"Weddings, man," I commented, dabbing my eyes. "They get me every time. The fact that it's Thomas' certainly isn't helping."

He chuckled softly. "I never took you for the overly sentimental type. Although, I guess I shouldn't be too surprised. It is you after all."

I pouted a bit. "What do you mean by that?"

He reached over and grabbed my hand. He squeezed it gently, looking amused.

"I mean, you're a gentle, caring, sensitive woman, and I shouldn't be surprised that you act that way with everyone. Not just me."

He lifted my hand to bring it to his lips. I snatched it away quickly. I looked around nervously. Luckily, it seemed that everyone was still focused on Thomas and Laura. I let out a sigh of relief before turning to glare at him.

"Jack, we talked about this," I hissed quietly.

He looked down at the ground. He nodded as if understanding. I felt bad. It wasn't like I wanted to act cold towards him, but this really wasn't the place for him to be doing that kind of stuff.

Which is what I told him before we left the mansion this morning. I was really glad it was Jack who appeared today. After all, he was one of the personalities who didn't get to say goodbye to Thomas before he retired. He was also the one who was closest to him. I'm pretty sure there's no one else in this world Thomas would have chosen to be here today.

That being said, bringing Jack brought its own set of difficulties. To start, he was naturally affectionate with me. While I normally didn't mind that fact, I didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention towards us. Or towards our relationship.

Thomas wasn't exactly aware that our relationship had become less-than-professional since he left. I wasn't sure how he'd react if he knew and I really didn't want to find out. Especially not today.

Today was his day. I didn't want anything Jack or I did to overshadow him and Laura. We were already having enough trouble with that as it was.

Which was the second problem I was having with Jack. Well, I guess "Jack" was too specific. It was really a problem with Mr. Weston. The problem being that everyone knew who he was.

As much as we tried to stay quiet and blend into the background, it was nearly impossible. All eyes had been on us since the moment we sat down. I guess I shouldn't have been too surprised.

Thomas never tried to hide what he used to do for work. I assume Laura didn't really try to hide the truth either. Everyone knew about Mr. Weston before he even arrived.

The rich, reclusive man with the rare mental illness. The man with behavior so erratic that he drove some of the world's best caretakers from his home. A man's whose care was so specialised that Thomas was searching for over a year to find a proper replacement. How could people not be curious?

They tried to be polite and hide it, but I noticed people glancing our way and whispering amongst themselves the entire time we were waiting for the wedding to start. I didn't know what rumors were being spread about Mr. Weston or my job as his caretaker, but the last thing I wanted was to make them worse by acting "unprofessionally" in public.

Everyone stood suddenly. That was enough to bring me back to the present. I scrambled out of my seat to stand and clap with them as Thomas and Laura walked past. Again, the way they glowed with happiness brought a smile to my face.

I really needed to stop worrying so much today. After all, I was here for Thomas. It wouldn't hurt to take a day off from worrying. God knows I was already doing too much of that this month.

Living with Mr. Weston had never really been "easy," but this month had been especially hard. I suppose that was my fault for having multiple relationships. With the same man, none the less. Between Jack, Victor, and Arthur, I was losing my mind.

Jack and Victor had, somehow, created a competition between themselves to see who was my "best lover." As a result, my body was beyond exhausted.

They were both highly competitive when it came to this, and each always seemed to be trying to find a way to outdo the other. Who could last the longest? How many times in one day? They were always begging me for information, trying to find any advantage that might help them be "better." Just last week, I went to pick up a book Jack had left in the living room and the Kama Sutra fell out!

Were they actually getting better at sex by doing these things? Yes. Was the sex amazing? Absolutely. But I was no athlete. They might have been competing, but my body was getting the worst of it! And god forbid I had them both on consecutive days.

However, as much as I complained about Jack and Victor's sexual pissing contest, they were the least of my worries. My main worry was, and had been all month, Arthur.

It had been about a month since Arthur had confessed his love for me. It had also been about a month since I promised him I'd have everything "settled" between me and my boyfriends. Which meant I was running out of time.

Arthur knew about Jack and Victor. He knew I had been dating them and he knew that we were pretty serious. The problem was, Arthur didn't realize they were both the same man. Him. Which led to my biggest point of stress and worry this month: I was planning to tell Arthur the truth about being a personality.

I'd talked with Jack and Victor about this within a few days of Arthur's confession, but I hadn't worked up the nerve to tell him yet. Jack always offered me his unending support and told me to do my best. In the moments Victor wasn't trying to find a way into my panties, he was trying to help me find ways to break the news to Arthur.

Arthur himself had been very understanding about the whole situation. He didn't ask me about my "boyfriends" once since asking me to leave them. He completely trusted me to end things with them by the set deadline.

Although, it wasn't hard to see the shift in his behavior lately. As the days ticked down, he became more and more restless. I could see him bouncing around his studio excitedly. Just waiting for the day to come when I told him everything was finished and I was completely his. If he only knew.

"Are you ready, Darling?"

"Huh?"

Jack's voice broke through the cloud of worries I'd been trapped in. He half-smiled at me and gestured around us. I noticed for the first time that nearly everyone had left.

"I would have said something sooner, but you looked lost in thought," he explained. "Everything okay?"

I gave a dry laugh. "Have things ever been 'okay' with me?"

"Arthur again?"

"Im trying not to today. I'm really not." I sighed. "But yeah."

"It's getting close, isn't it? Your deadline."

"Don't remind me," I grumbled. "I still have no clue what to say to him and I have less than a week to figure it out."

"You'll be fine, Darling," he reassured me. "But you're right. Let's forget about all that today. Now, where's the reception being held again?"

I smiled. "Follow me, I'll drive."

The back area of the church was really beautiful. I was glad Thomas and Laura had decided to have their wedding outdoors. The fresh air helped me to clear my head as we walked to the parking lot.

Maybe it was because we never left the mansion, but I often forgot Mr. Weston had cars at all. For obvious reasons, we decided against taking the limousine to town. Still, our car definitely stood out from the rest.

A jet-black Porsche that looked so expensive I was afraid to breathe near it. Let alone drive it today. However, considering the fact that Mr. Weston didn't have a driver's license, I'd have to deal.

Though I tried to convince him to sit in the back seat as he would have with Thomas, he insisted in sitting up front. That on it's own didn't bother me too much. However, what did bother me was how his hand kept slipping over the console to rest on my thigh. He'd done it the entire way to town this morning, despite my protests.

As we pulled out of the parking lot, I was happy to see he was keeping his hands to himself. That ended as soon as we were on the street though. I sighed as I noticed his hand sliding across the console again. I took one hand off the wheel and grabbed his wrist.

"Jack."

"We're in the car. Who's going to see?" He asked playfully.

"Not today," I said sternly.

"I've already resigned myself to the fact that I can't be affectionate with you in public," he griped. "At least let me do so while I have you alone for a minute."

"Jack, stop. Wedding and guests aside, I don't want you distracting me while I'm driving. I don't want to wreck or anything."

I expected him to argue more, but to my surprise, he didn't. I saw him nod out of the corner of my eye. He pulled his hand from my grip and rested it in his lap. The air in the car felt heavier somehow. Was he really that upset about not being able to touch me?

He stayed silent the rest of the drive. I was worried he might be in a bad mood the rest of the night, but he quickly perked up as we reached the banquet hall.

"Is this it?" He asked.

"Yup."

"A little small, isn't it? We could have done something much grander for them at the mansion," he mused.

"Maybe, but it's not our wedding," I reminded him. "Thomas and Laura don't have much family, they wanted something small and simple."

He nodded. "Right, I suppose the mansion would be too much in that case. Well, anyway, shall we?"

I couldn't help smiling as we got out of the car. Though I wouldn't really call Mr. Weston "stuck-up," I think it was easy for him to forget that not everyone lived as extravagantly as he did. I wondered if he'd ever attended a small event before. Then again, I doubted he went to any event too often. Small or large.

"Annie!"

A bubbly voice interrupted these thoughts. I looked up to see a familiar face waving to me from the edge of the parking lot.

"Sara!" I cried excitedly, rushing towards her.

I practically jumped into her arms. She giggled and hugged me tightly.

"Jeez, miss me or something?" She teased.

She had meant it as a joke, but she had no clue how much I did. I didn't have a lot of close friends, but somehow, even with my horrible childhood, Sara and I had always managed to stay friends. She was the one who was always there for me when I needed her. A place to crash, a meal to get me through, even this job.  She was always there. Then, as soon as I came here, she wasn't. It felt strange to suddenly have her missing from my life like that.

It wasn't like I didn't enjoy Mr. Weston's company. I liked being around him, and I never felt lonely with him there. Sara was different though. There are just some things you tell your friends that you could never possibly express to your boyfriend. Then again, I doubted I could really tell Sara anything anyway.

These thoughts all melted away as she gave me another tight squeeze. Her eyes shined excitedly. I think she was just as happy to see me as I was her.

"So, obviously, you got the job," she commented. "How has it been so far? Are you having any trouble adjusting?"

Before I could answer her, someone cleared their throat loudly. I turned to see Mr. Weston standing there. Though it might not have been obvious to Sara, I could see he was pouting.

"You left me behind," he said, trying to disguise the disappointment in his voice.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir," I said, straightening up and turning towards him.

I saw him flinch a bit as I said "sir." While he tolerated me saying it playfully, he hated when I used it seriously. Given our situation, it wasn't like I could help it though.

Luckily, this was Jack. He was a lot more understanding of this fact than Victor or Arthur would have been. He nodded to me briefly before shifting his gaze to Sara. She was staring at him wide-eyed, mouth hanging open.

"Ah, allow me to introduce you," I said quickly. "Sara, this is Mr. Weston. Mr. Weston, my friend Sara. She's Thomas' neice. Remember? The one who recommended me for the job?"

His mood seemed to brighten a little as I said this. "Oh, of course! Thank you very much for that, Miss... Miss...?"

Sara was still staring, dumbstruck. I nudged her subtly with my elbow. She quickly regained her senses and straightened up.

"Carter!" She answered loudly.

She blushed a bit as her voice echoed around the parking lot. She cleared her throat and extended her hand.

"Sara Carter," she repeated more calmly. "Nice to meet you."

Mr. Weston took her hand and shook it. "A pleasure, Ms. Carter. Thank you again for leading Anna to us. I dare say I owe you a debt of gratitude for that."

"Umm, I-I was just helping out a friend," she replied, obviously flustered about how to respond.

"Well, either way, thank you. Shall we go in, Da-" He quickly caught himself and cleared his throat. "Umm, Anna?"

"Would it be alright if I came in in a minute, sir?" I asked. "I haven't had the chance to talk to Sara since I moved here."

"Of course. Take as long as you like," he insisted.

He smiled and nodded to Sara and me again before heading inside. As soon as his back was turned, Sara's eyes went wide again. She watched him until he disappeared inside the banquet hall. When he finally did, she whipped around to face me.

"That's Mr. Weston?!" She whisper-shouted.

"You didn't know?"

"I mean, I heard Uncle Tom had been taking care of this guy for a while, but I never knew he was that young!" She explained. She glanced towards the door again. "Or that sexy. Holy shit. Yum. Does he need another servant?"

I forced a laugh as she said this, but I could feel the small bubbles of jealousy forming in my stomach. I mean, I knew Mr. Weston was attractive, but it still made me uncomfortable to hear other women talking about him that way. I don't think any woman would be too thrilled about her friend drooling over her boyfriend.

It wasn't like it was her fault though. I knew Sara. If she knew he was my boyfriend, then she wouldn't talk about him that way. At least, not seriously. But she didn't know. She couldn't.

"Hey, by the way," she said suddenly, "is it okay to bring him here? Isn't he supposed to be nuts or something?"

"He has a mental illness, that doesn't mean he's psychotic," I said sharply.

I think we were both a little stunned by the tone of my voice. I blushed and looked away.

"Ah, sorry," I apologized. "I'm with him every day, so we're pretty close. Guess I'm a little defensive."

"No, no. I'm sorry," she insisted. "Of course you'd have to be close if you took the job. Uncle Tom would probably be pissed too if he heard me say that. I shouldn't have said it."

"Anyway, changing the subject," I said, waving it off. "It's fine if he leaves the house. We actually got lucky today. This is Jack Weston. He's the 'original,' so to speak. The one who's aware of his condition. The others could leave too, I'd just have to be more careful about watching them."

"God, sexy boss or not, I don't know if I could handle that. Having to chase around a grown man like a toddler? It's like the world's worst babysitting job," she mumbled, shaking her head.

She quickly seemed to realize what she said. I could see the apology on her face before she opened her mouth. I raised my hand to stop her.

"It's alright. I get what you mean," I reassured her. "It's a learning process for sure, but I'm starting to find a groove."

"You always were the adaptable kind," she laughed. She linked her arm with mine. "Well, I think we've spent enough time gossiping by ourselves. After all, you're still technically working, right?"

I squeezed her arm gently. "Always, but it's fine to give him some room every now and again."

She giggled again and pulled me towards the entrance. We walked arm and arm into the reception. It really was a small gathering. Maybe fifty people or so. Outside of Mr. Weston, Thomas only had a few close family members. Laura's children were all grown with families of their own, so her numbers were pretty small too.

Thomas and Laura hadn't arrived, so there wasn't much of a party yet. A few groups were scattered here and there, mingling. Most were sitting at their tables, playing with their phones.

Mr. Weston seemed to have been watching the door, waiting for me. He perked up as soon as he saw me. He waved enthusiastically from across the room. I had to stop myself from laughing at it. Sara didn't bother to try. She snickered as she saw him.

"Looks like he really likes you," she teased. Suddenly, a mischievous smile filled her face. "Play your cards right, maybe you could be Mrs. Weston in a few years."

I could feel the blush race to my cheeks. "Sara!"

She nudged me playfully. "Calm down, it's a joke. Hot and rich or not, I know you. You're too sweet to take advantage of some sick man like that."

I froze as she said this.

"Ah, there's Dad," she said, looking across the room. "Catch you later, okay?"

I forced a smile and nodded to her. She gave me one last hug before hurrying over to her family.

Guilt flooded me as she left. Taking advantage of a sick man, huh? I mean, it wasn't really true. It wasn't like I was with him for his looks. Or for the money. I loved him. The illness just happened to be a part of who he was. You can't help who you fall in love with, right?

As much as I tried thinking this, I had more trouble believing it. I couldn't help worrying that she might be right. Was I taking advantage of him? I mean, he said so himself, how many options did he really have for relationships where he lived? Was I taking advantage of his need for basic human contact? 

I sighed and crossed my arms. Great, five minutes into the party, and I'd already managed to depress myself. I didn't have much time to dwell on it though. Jack shuffled his way through the small crowd to meet up with me.

"There you are. I know I said to take as long as you like, but I was starting to worry," he said playfully. "So that was your friend, huh?"

"My best friend," I emphasized, smiling. "Sara's always been the one I could depend on when things went wrong in my life. Which was pretty often."

"You're lucky."

"What?"

"Not about the bad luck," he said quickly. "I mean to have a best friend. It must be nice to have somebody who understands you so well. Growing up all I had was... well, Thomas."

"I mean, that's not so bad, right?" I asked.

"Don't get me wrong, he did a great job raising me. Especially given my condition. I always knew I could rely on him, and he was always willing to lend an ear or a shoulder to cry on, but..." He paused, trying to find the best way to explain it. "He was... a parent. In a sense, anyway. With his listening and empathy came the same nagging and chastising as most parents, I imagine. It's different than friendship."

"My family's probably not the best example, but I get what you mean about it being different."

"I'm glad you do, because I don't." He sighed. "I know it's supposed to be different, but I'm not sure how. I never had anything like that before. I never had anyone before. It was always just me and Thomas. What's it like? Having a friend?"

"I'm not sure how to explain it really," I admitted. "It's not what I think you're imagining it to be. It's not like you get a friend and it magically turns your life into some fantasy dreamworld, but it does help you deal with reality. Especially the bad parts.

It's comforting to know you have someone. Someone who's there for you when things go wrong. Someone who takes your side when no one else will. Someone who isn't afraid to kick your ass when you need it. Someone who only wants the best things in life for you."

"For someone who says it's not a dreamworld, you sure make it sound dreamy," he murmured.

"It's not perfect," I warned him. "Friendship is like any relationship. You have to take the good with the bad, you have to accept each other completely, and you both have to put the work in. Otherwise, it doesn't last.

You laugh, you play, you fight, you cry. You gain and lose a lot of them in your life. But when you meet the right person, you know that it's forever. Even when you can't be together, you know they're still there for you. Always. It's love in its purest form."

As I finished, I noticed the sad smile on his face. I couldn't help feeling guilty. It was like I was bragging or something.

"That's just my take on things," I reminded him. "My relationship with Sara might be different than other friends. Some might get along worse, some might be better."

"No, I understand," he promised. "It's all relative. No two relationships are the same, after all. Although..." He paused a moment, thinking. "I think that little speech of yours did help me to realize something."

"What's that?"

"I think I do have a friend."

"Really?"

I was shocked. I thought Jack didn't have anyone he was close to. Was he talking about Thomas? Then again, didn't he already mention Thomas was more like a parent? 

He nodded. "Yes. A kind and understanding person. Someone who's seen the real me and stayed by me in spite of it. Someone I trust very much and love very dearly."

Jack never mentioned a friend before. He made it sound like they were close. In that case, why did they never visit him? Then again, I hadn't been at the mansion long. Maybe they were just busy. It happens, right? Curiosity got the better of me.

"Who is it?"

His face seemed to soften. He reached out to grab my hand, but quickly stopped himself. He tucked his hands into his pockets as if to restrain them. His eyes were warm as he looked at me.

"You," he said gently.

"Me?!"

"Who else?" He chuckled. "Not that I'm complaining. I don't think I could have ever asked for a better friend."

I didn't know what to say. Luckily, I didn't have to say anything. The small banquet hall suddenly burst into applause. Cameras flashed from everywhere. I turned to see Thomas and Laura waving to everyone from the doorway.

Jack was turned towards them, clapping along with everyone else. I was glad he couldn't see my face right now. I'm sure I probably looked about as sick as I felt. That feeling only seemed to grow stronger as that horrible word sunk deeper and deeper into my mind.

Friends.

I'd never though of it like that before. All evening, I'd been wondering if I was somehow taking advantage of him and his need for companionship. I never stopped to think about the fact that "companionship" came in many forms. Or that his idea of it might be different from mine. That raised a whole new set of question I wasn't sure I wanted answered:

Even if I wasn't using him, was he using me? Was our relationship just a way to assure that I would always be by his side? Did he see our situation more as a "friends with benefits" kind of deal? If that was the case, would he have done this with anyone? Did I just happen to be the best he could do given his circumstances?

Did he really love me?