You couldn’t remember how it happened, and neither could Victor.

At least, your version of Victor couldn’t remember how it happened. Somehow, someway, another Victor appeared at your doorstep, claiming to be from another universe. Against your husband’s better judgment, you allowed him in, stating that he was another version of your Victor. They were the same person— how bad could it be?

You quickly found out.

Your Victor, who you called Vic, was wholly different from the Victor that came from another universe. Sometimes, it got confusing because Victor would act like Vic, and you could never really tell the difference (they looked almost identical).

It wasn’t just that either— Vic’s personality was more calm and reserved —while Victor was a lot more feral and aggressive. Vic hated it, but you never cared because you loved both of them. They make their relationship with you work, even if Vic is the one who married you first, and Victor was just another, more animal version of him.

As their housewife, you often have to calm the tension between them, even when there shouldn’t have been. They should’ve been like siblings— maybe even cousins —but they were on different sides of the same spectrum.

“I told ya to leave her alone while she cooks! She can’t focus on makin’ dinner if yer botherin’ her!” Vic snarls at the other man, his eyes narrowed into slits as he grows increasingly frustrated by Victor’s attitude.

Victor liked to touch you— he liked to cling to you because he couldn’t believe that a version of himself actually settled down with someone —and you let him. Even when it wasn’t very smart, given Victor often interrupted you during chores.

“She ain’t worried ‘bout it, don’t get yer panties in a twist.” Your face scrunches up as Victor noses at your cheek, clearly unmoved and unperturbed by Vic’s frustration. He’s clinging to you, arms wrapped around your waist as he hums quietly. You should’ve said something to him, made him stop, but you couldn’t deny that you liked the attention.