After James // phan

confidential pt. 11

My stomach was twisting as I shut my flat door behind me, pressing my palms hard against it as I breathed a sigh of relief. I couldn't stop smiling, my heart wouldn't slow down. My mouth still tasted of sugary frosting and sweet vanilla cake. I felt light headed.

Hanging out with Phil was... weird. I had liked him back in primary school, pined after him for days, doodled his name in my notebooks and daydreamed about him pressed against me. I barely spoke to him and never got real closure back then, he graduated and I stayed for another two years, made bad friends, and rarely thought back on those blue eyes and those mousy brown roots. But Phil was steadily becoming the only thing I thought about nowadays, first as a concern and now...

Now as something else.

He had reacted better than I had hoped about Dan. That bit of the conversation had already began to haze over in my memory. It was, in my defense, over three blissful hours ago. I bit my lip as I slid down the door, trying to suppress a smile. I wish I had done this sooner. I had never had such an enjoyable social interaction before.

Which really wasn't saying much. But talking to Phil was by far, the most fun I have ever had. It was so easy to forget who I was and what was happening when Phil and I banted about video games and books and cake and hometowns. He told me about his brother and his hamsters and his dream career as a weatherman, and I just listened. That might have been my favourite part. For the first time in three months, I wasn't worried that I would slip up and say the wrong thing. For now, I could just listen. And I trusted Phil enough that, even if I mentioned something I shouldn't have, he wouldn't make a big deal about it, and try to forget it. I trusted him.

Right?

Louise seemed to be awake, I heard the sheets rustle in our room, but she didn't come to greet me. Maybe I woke her when I came in; it was kind of late.

"Louise?" I whispered, pressing our door open with the pads of my fingers. She mumbled something, her words slurred and incomprehensible, and I smiled. She was probably asleep. I laid next to her and pulled my sheet around me, trying to release my smile so I could relax my face. But I couldn't. I was too happy to finally have an ally, to finally have someone I could talk to as Dan, even though it was at a very base level. Even though I couldn't tell him how worried I was, how much Charlie scared me, how nearly every night's dream consisted of him finding us and murdering me and Louise for turning him in, for testifying in court, even if we weren't physically there to do it. Even though I couldn't tell him that I wasn't actually married to Louise, or Darcy, or even that Louise wasn't Darcy, I was happy to have him.

I also couldn't tell him that I was hardcore crushing on him, but I didn't know if that was for our safety or because I was a wimp.

Aso, I was married. That might put a damper on the relationship.

Morning came with grogginess and dread, as it almost always did, and utter repugnance for the eight hours of work I had ahead of me. But I wasn't worried about Phil today, and didn't have to go in early or stay late. It was almost comforting, knowing that I could finally just exist as a human being, I could finally walk at a normal pace, maybe even loiter, that if I ran into a neighbour or a coworker and stopped to chat, I wouldn't frantically try to end the conversation and dive into the nearest bush for safety. I could climb into my car and just drive to work, clock out at 5:00, and go home. No fear, no worry, just... existence. The closest to true existence I've had in a while.

I carefully climbed out of bed, trying not to wake Darcy, and slipped my shirt from the closet, my trousers from my drawer, and my shoes from under the bed. Something silver glinted in the shadows collected under the frame as I moved my trainers, catching the low light of the morning sun trickling through the haphazardly drawn curtains. I narrowed my eyes and reached into my dress shoes, where my fingers met a cool, smooth metal, a feeling I recognised immediately. I pulled it out of my shoe, heart beating faster and faster as what felt like years passed. I knew exactly what it was.

My keychain, the one with my real name on it, the one from New York, the one I was told I couldn't keep but kept anyway, the one that was locked in my bedside draw, was in the palm of my hand, giving off an aura of danger. I swallowed, my mouth suddenly very, very dry.

"Louise," I hissed, but then stopped myself. "Darcy!" I reached up to shake Louise awake, my hands shaking with unease and distress. No no no no. This couldn't be happening.

"Mmmmmwhat?" she mumbled, turning over to face me. She peeled her eyes open as I held up the keychain. She paused, and my breathing became sharper. "Is that..?"

"Yeah. I had it locked in my drawer. But it was... it was in my shoe. Did you move it?" She shook her head. I stared down at it in my hands. "I think I'm going to call in sick today." Louise nodded again, suddenly looking very awake.

"I will, too. Will you call... someone?" I nodded, and she nodded, and we both were just nodding, nodding, nodding, until frantic laughter bubbled and burst from both our mouths. We both knew what this meant. This was a sign, a sign that he liked to leave, the same signs he left before we had to flee.

Charlie has been here. Charlie has been in our flat. Charlie knows where we are.