Page 206 of Double or Nothing

I know I need a story close enough to the truth that I can hold it steady. Steady enough.

“Sylvia’s gone now, as you know,” I say. “It took the divorce papers coming through to truly realise, and realisation hits hard.”

His expression softens.

“Yes. Of course.”

“I thought I was handling it, but life felt a lot emptier than I expected. I tried to fill it with work, but that can only last so long. You still have to face it at some point.”

I pull at my shirt sleeves, but it feels natural.

I’m not lying. It was the divorce papers that landed me in the Kilby Club in the first place, after all.

“You should have told me you were struggling,” Bill says.

“I thought throwing myself into work would help. It’s what I’ve always done, isn’t it?”

There’s no deception in those words. None at all.

I see the concern deepen in his eyes, because there is no illusion at play here. Throwing myself into work was always a key part of my nature.

My marriage itself was driven into the ground by all the hours I gave to this organisation. Or perhaps my workload only helped me avoid admitting it was already dead. It’s a hard judgement to call.

If Sylvia and I had spent more time together, maybe we could have fixed things. Tried counselling. More holidays. Taken up some new hobbies. Who knows?

Alternatively, we probably would have ended sooner. Realised we were two different people. That feels the more likely outcome.

Regardless of the answer, I wouldn’t change it.

Not when the ending took me to Jack.

To Jack, and then back to Alice.

“I’ve been trying to get out a bit more,” I tell Bill. “Reconnect with things I used to enjoy. I dunno.” I pause. “Find some meaning now life has changed.”

“Such as?”

“Art. A few events. People around those circles.”

That much is true. Beautifully, painfully true.

Alice’s studio. Her hands moving over the canvas. Us having fun together with paint all over our fingers, and the taste of each other’s kisses in our mouths.

Bill studies me.

“You always loved art, I know that.”

“Yes.” My smile is all real. “I adore it.”

“And how about Jack Reid? Where does he fit into all of this?”

My heart punches against my ribs. I try to keep my gaze steady as I look at Bill.

“Jack? What about him?”

“He appears to be part of this resurgence of yours.”

“He moves in a lot of circles.” I shrug. “We crossed paths.”