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“Thank you.”

“You deserve every penny.”

She takes a step towards him, but he doesn’t respond. After a moment, she folds her arms around him, refusing to back down.

The embrace is brief but fierce.

His hands remain in his pockets for one second too long before he holds her.

It’s so fucking painful, it’s horrific. And Christopher fucking Otley watches from the doorway.

Jack closes his eyes. Feeling the love in her arms.

Whatever else happened tonight, that part is real.

Alice releases him and turns to me.

I draw her into mine.

No restraint.

No professional distance.

She presses her face against my shoulder, and I hold her as tightly as I dare.

“One point two five million,” I whisper.

A laugh catches in her throat.

“It still sounds surreal.” She pulls back. “I’ll see you soon.”

But will she? Looking at the vileness of Christopher’s stare from the doorway, I’m really not so sure.

Jack says nothing.

Alice looks at him one final time before she walks across the auction room towards her fiancé. And then she’s gone.

Jack looks at me.

“Let’s cut the crap now. Are you coming home?”

Home.

One word with far too much inside it.

“No,” I say.

“Bryce. What the –”

“I need space.”

“Ok. Fine.” He says it casually. Gives me a loose smile and lifts one shoulder. “Whatever you need, BT. You know where I am.”

I hate the nickname in his mouth now.

Not because I don’t want to hear it, but because I do. I love it, even though I can’t stand the fucking sight of him right now.

I watch Jack as he walks away, still giving it the swagger in his tuxedo.