Victoria's eyes fluttered open to an unfamiliar sensation. She felt rested. Truly rested, in a way she couldn't remember experiencing in years. Her body felt loose and relaxed, like she'd just had the most restorative sleep of her life. But as consciousness fully returned, confusion crept in alongside the strange contentment.
She shifted against her pillows, trying to piece together how she'd ended up here. The last clear memory she had was what, exactly? Yesterday felt like a blur. Fragments of images that didn't quite connect. She remembered feeling upset about something. Jeremy, maybe? But then everything became hazy. Had she taken something? She didn't remember taking any medication, but the deep, dreamless sleep she'd just experienced suggested otherwise.
Looking at the coffee cup on her nightstand, she realized she must have been awake earlier. But what had happened after that? How had she drifted back to sleep so completely?
The strangest part was how refreshed she felt. It was like her body had undergone some kind of reset. Her usual morning stiffness was completely absent, replaced by an almost euphoric sense of well-being. She had the vague impression of the most incredible dream, though the details slipped away like smoke whenever she tried to grasp them. All she could remember was the sensation of being cherished. Caressed by her ideal man. Someone who knew exactly how to touch her. How to make her feel completely alive.
Even though it was just a dream, a fantasy of hers, it had felt impossibly real. More vivid than any dream she'd ever experienced. The memory of those phantom touches still seemed to linger on her skin, making her want to sink back into the pillows and chase whatever wonderful vision had given her such profound peace.
But voices from downstairs broke through her reverie.
Emily's voice which sounded sharp with surprise and others she couldn't quite identify. The commotion pulled her from her cocoon of contentment, and irritation began to replace the bliss. Whatever was happening down there, it was destroying the perfect calm she'd woken with.
Victoria threw back the covers and padded to her bedroom door, setting her robe in place as she stepped into the hallway. As she descended the stairs, she could see the entire family gathered in the living room. All of them were staring at one particular spot with expressions of shock and confusion.
"What is all this noise about?" she called out, her voice carrying the edge of someone who'd been woken from the best sleep of her life.
The room fell silent. All eyes turned toward her.
Emily's expression shifted the moment she saw Victoria. Relief flooded her features, as if her mother's presence might finally bring some sanity to this impossible situation. Emma still looked stunned, rooted to her spot near the kitchen. Jade had finally put down the remote and was watching the scene with genuine interest, her attention now fully captured by the unfolding drama.
"Mom," Emily said, relief and confusion warring in her voice. "Do you... do you notice anything different about Isaac?"
Victoria's gaze shifted automatically to where everyone else was looking. Her breath caught in her throat.
There he was. Isaac.
But as her eyes found his face, something extraordinary happened. Memories came flooding through her mind like a dam had burst. Vivid and overwhelming. Flashes of sensation and warmth and skin against skin. Her face flushed crimson before she could stop it.
She stared at him. Then quickly turned away. She could feel her heart hammering against her ribs just from looking at his face.
Emily noticed it immediately. "Mom, are you okay?"
"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Victoria managed, though her voice sounded breathless even to her own ears.
"Are you sure?" Emily pressed, concern creeping into her tone. "Your face looks all red."
"Really, I'm fine." Victoria risked one last glance at Isaac, then backed toward the stairs. Her legs felt unsteady beneath her. "I need to take care of something. I'll be out in a few, and... don't disturb me."
She fled.
There was no other word for it. She fled up the stairs and into her room, closing the door behind her and leaning against it as her heart pounded so hard she could feel it in her throat. Her hand pressed against her chest as if to keep her heart from leaping out entirely.
Why was she feeling this way? Like a schoolgirl who had just seen her first crush?
She tried to steady her breathing, but her mind refused to cooperate. Those dreams she thought she had. The memories that had just flooded back. They looked vividly the same. Did that mean the dream she had was real?
The thought made her knees weak.
Everything she thought had been fantasy with some mysterious dream lover. It had actually happened. With him. With Isaac.
The realization sent a chill of fear and confusion through her. How did that even make sense? Why would anything happen between them in the first place? What had even happened?
She tried desperately to remember the details, to piece together how any of this was possible. But all she could think of was his body. The way it had felt against hers. The warmth of his skin. The strength in his hands. Even if it wasn't exactly what had really happened, it felt like her mind was playing out everything in the way she had always desired to be handled.
She scratched her head frantically, fingers raking through her disheveled hair.
Stop. Stop. Stop thinking about his body.
But the more she tried to push the thoughts away, the more vivid they became. Her resistance only seemed to feed the fire burning through her veins. Every attempt to suppress the images made them stronger, more detailed, more maddening.
She pressed her palms against her temples, forcing herself to think rationally.
Come to think of it, he was never like this before. What had changed about him?
She felt he was different somehow, but she couldn't put her finger on exactly what. There was something about the way he had looked at her downstairs. Something in his presence that made her pulse race. Or was that how he always looked? What had actually changed about him?
And why, no matter how hard she tried, couldn't she stop thinking about his body?
"I need to get hold of myself," she whispered to the empty room, pressing her palms against her temples. "What's happening to me? Like what the hell is wrong with me?"
And why would she even be fantasizing about him of all people? Isaac. She should feel disgusted by just thinking about it. Repulsed. Horrified. But she couldn't deny that whatever had happened between them had left an aftertaste in her body. A lingering hunger that made her desire him in ways she didn't want to acknowledge.
Even though she couldn't vividly remember what had transpired, she was certain the memories were there. Tantalizingly real, but fragmented. Like pieces of a puzzle she couldn't quite fit together. The harder she reached for them, the more they slipped away, leaving only impressions and sensations behind.
What bothered her even more was that every time she attempted to remember what had happened, it only led her thoughts back to him. To the phantom warmth of his touch. To the way her body had responded in ways that both thrilled and terrified her.
"I have to get to the bottom of this," she whispered fiercely, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. The not knowing was driving her mad, this strange fog that seemed to shroud the most important details while leaving her with nothing but these maddening sensations and half-formed images that made her ache with longing for something she couldn't even fully understand.