Chapter 11
ASHTON
"I don't need a bodyguard" Ashal scowls at my looming presence.
We're in his home office where he is setting up for a zoom meeting with his staff at the office. "Good, because you couldn't hire me to protect your dumbass anyway. I'm here as your brother." I circle around his chair while he shifts restlessly in his seat.
"Don't you have to be at work? Gris has been calling."
"My personal assistant should be the least of your concerns right now, Ash. I'll handle my business. Just pretend I'm not here and carry on." I fix him with a deep stare. Ashal avoids my eyes and fusses with his setup.
I am not surprised he tried to commit suicide; I am surprised he waited this long. I am genuinely surprised to learn how strong he is. Unlike me, Ashal is actually strong. He doesn't just pretend to be. I pace the room now, trying and failing to quell my temper.
"I can't concentrate if you keep pacing like that. What the fuck are you looking for, Ashton?"
"Signs of confusion, vomiting, respiratory problems and every other post drowning symptom I can think of."
Ashal cocks a brow at me, perplexed by my response. Sweat starts to dew on his face.
Contrary to what it may look like, I am not enjoying any of this. I am deeply hurt and I am afraid for Ashal. I know he looks fine right now but when a man contemplates suicide to the point of actually attempting it, he opens a dangerous door in his head. That door is difficult to shut. For this reason, the chances of repeating the act won't just be a faint smear in memory.
I know because I have tried to take my life a few times in the past even though I chickened out in the end. While Ashal feels burdened by the fact that he can't get people to see him beyond being a guy with a personality disorder, I on the other hand struggle with an identity crisis as I can't get people to see the real me. Ashal wants to be perceived as more than his condition; I want to be perceived as just me and not the million personalities I have played over the years.