Page 91 of Double or Nothing

“No foolishness.”

The word hits so hard I almost flinch.

Foolishness.

That is what last night is in his world. Not joy. Not freedom. Not a canvas coming alive under Alice’s hands. Not feeling my own breath after years underwater, pinned down by Sylvia’s cruel dismissive hands around my neck.

I’m not sure which part of me feels more foolish right now. I’m not sure I want to.

“Good man,” Bill says, and offers me the smile that once meant I was safe.

It doesn’t hold the joy that it used to.

Safe. Boring. Safe. Boring.

Bill means behave. That’s what he really means. He means remember who built you, and put you here from nothing, and paid for the designer suit on your fucking back.

He means stay in your place like a good little puppy dog and do my bidding.

I make it halfway down the corridor before I duck into the nearest empty meeting room and shut the door behind me.

I grip the edge of the conference table and try not to throw up.

Christopher Otley.

Family alignment.

A heir to the Parker empire.

Not an artist.

Not Alice.

A wife. A mother. A continuation. A signature at the bottom of some invisible contract written before she even knew there was a pen in her hand.

And me?

What am I?

Trusted Bryce. Sensible Bryce. Good man Bryce.

Boring.

Nothing. I mean sweet fuck all.

I’m just the assistant who knows his place. The coward who lies to himself about how much he loves her.

I press my fist to my mouth.

I should call her.

I should warn her.

I should tell her everything.

But I can’t do that. My pathetic inner child won’t let me. My phone stays in my pocket, heavy as a brick.

If I tell Alice, everything changes, but if I don’t tell Alice, everything changes anyway.