Page 17 of Deliria

Alex exchanges a look that I can’t quite make out and then he relents, giving way to his father’s apparently better judgement.

“Be careful then. Don’t push yourself.” Alex instructs, as if I’m the sort of person to be reckless. To go off gallivanting on adventures.

As if this island isn’t surrounded, controlled, completely cut off from the mainland for twenty-three hours a day.

I murmur back that I will while chastising the feeling that I should feel grateful for this tiny piece of freedom that’s being offered to me.

It’s not a gift. It’s not something to feel good about. I have as much right to walk where I want as any one of them does.

And it’s not like there is anything else for me to do in this house. He made sure of that. He brought me here, he isolated me from my friends and my family, and… wait, I don’t have any family, not anymore. I know my mother is dead and was buried years ago. I know she died when I was six and then our aunt brought me and my brother up as her own. Only, it hits me suddenly that Sebastian, Sebastian is gone too, though I have no idea how it happened. No ideawhenit happened.

I blink back furious tears. I can’t cry. I can’t afford to fuck this up now.

What the hell happened to Sebastian?

Thankfully no one here notices my sudden change. The conversation has moved on from the fragile, sickly daughter-in-law to matters of far greater importance. Vincent and Alex are now deep into some debate about licensing for some commercial activity I don’t even try to understand. Irene is sat, prim and proper, listening in because she must be a part of it, must have a say, though I wonder if she has anything useful to actually add.

I make my excuses to un-listening ears, getting up from the table and move to slip away. It’s a good time while they’re distracted, but as I reach the door I freeze.

“Where are you going?” Alex’s voice is cold.

I turn, gritting my teeth, playing that docile little wife he seems like so well. “You looked busy. I didn’t want to disturb you all further.” I cast my eyes out to the window, to where the hint of cliffs is only just visible. “While the weather is nice I thought it best to go. I don’t want to get wet if it rains.”

He tilts his head, crooking his finger, beckoning me back the way one would a pet completely under their control.

Every step I take seems to echo.

The staff watch me as if they too have a right to judge me.

I come to a stop before Alex and he grasps my elbow, pulling me down to his level.

“I’ll be watching from the house.” He says before planting a kiss on my forehead like a silent reminder of his ownership. As if those words of warning weren’t enough.

I give a meek smile back, and it takes all I have to walk calmly back out and not flee for my life.

Alexander

She thinks she can fool me. But I see it. I see it all.

She’s weak. Tired. Stressed and what little sleep she does get is littered with nightmares.

It’s partly why I can’t sleep next to her. Why she’s in a guest room, in a wing far from the rest of us. Oh, I tried, in the beginning. I tried to reason with her, to calm her, but she would lash out, she would fight, and then one night she went totally berserk, smashing up heirlooms, setting fire to the curtains. Determined to escape the monsters in her own head.

I can hardly turn up to meetings covered in scratches from her episodes. Being who I am, appearances count. Until I married Scarlett, I was one of the most eligible bachelors in the damned country. I’m photographed wherever I go -which is another reason why we reside here. Where no one can watch us. No one can see.

It gives us both some protection as well as some peace. Besides, she can hardly rest up when the world’s paparazzi is clamouring at our doors.

Here she is safe. Here she is isolated from everyone. Here I can protect her.

“Alex?”

I wave my hand, all but dismissing whatever comment or question my mother has.

I know she hates this situation, hates having Scarlett here in the house, in close proximity to her. She’s hated her from the start but that hate has turned to something else now. Now, she’s convinced Scarlett will be our downfall. That she’ll kill us all in our beds and dance naked in our spilt blood.

As if I’d ever let it get that bad.

As if I wouldn’t notice if my wife was so out of touch with reality as that.

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