An uncertain sound left him. "Mm, more than a decade, I suppose," Victor said, and when he did so, he was quiet. Of course he remembered the exact day, the exact hour, but he had never liked to dwell on those sorts of things before, and now having a memory made flesh and an audience observing it made thinking clearly impossible.

He busied himself by putting the drawings away in a chest of drawers he hadn't seen in years, stopping when he felt a prick of annoyance hit him between the shoulders, either from her gaze or just from her.

"Oh..." There was a long pause before he spoke again. "I'm sorry."

He didn't know what had caused this, or what he could do to stop it, but what he said was true, he was sorry. Sorry for bringing this moment to being, for letting his darker emotions spill over as they so often did. This wasn't the first time he had spoiled a joyful or peaceful memory, just... the first time it wasn't his own.

Shaking his head, Victor shut the drawer with a click, hands resting on the handles. The frown he now sported was more for himself than for Rebekah.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this. I... can't explain it. You shouldn't have..." He shook his head again, tuning out the sound of his mother's voice rising and falling. What could he say, he would endeavor not to feel so deeply? Laughable. This event was mocking him for his weakness. "Well, you shouldn't have had to come."

How unlucky, to be brought together again. It was like Wonderland wanted to make sure this person, unnatural in her own right, knew exactly what mortal failings looked and felt like.