39

Chapter 39

I didn't hear from Richard until later that evening. The day had been mercifully uneventful. Work kept me busy enough to occupy my thoughts, though the bouquet of flowers on my desk remained a constant distracting reminder of him. Every time I glanced at it, I felt a mixture of annoyance and a flutter of excitement.

When Richard finally came home, I kept my composure. I greeted him with the same neutral tone I always used while pretending not to see his lingering gaze. Dinner went by without incident, though I could feel his eyes on me as I moved around the table. I ignored it and carried on with my duties, determined not to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he still affected me.

As I settled into bed, my phone buzzed.

Richard: Are you still mad at me?

I typed in a reply.

Me: Not anymore.

His reply came almost instantly.

Richard: So....

Me: Let's be normal for the meantime. Stop texting me.

A few minutes passed. I almost believed he'd taken me seriously. Not until the phone buzzed again.

Richard: I miss you.

My heart skipped a beat. He was persistent, and I hated how easily he got to me.

Me: You already saw me during dinner. I work here. How could you possibly miss me?

Richard: I want to touch you.

I sighed and quickly typed two letters before he could send another message.

Me: No.

Richard: Why not?

Me: It's enough that only Evelyn knows. I don't want others finding out too.

Richard: That was an accident. I'm sure it won't happen again.

Me: That's what you assured me yesterday and look what happened.

I saw the typing indicator pop up again, and I groaned, already anticipating the argument that was about to follow.

Me: Don't even think about knocking on my door tonight. I'm not letting you in.

Richard: :(

Me: Goodnight, Richard. I'm turning my phone on silent.

Days passed by so quickly and soon winter turned to spring. The snow melted, the garden bloomed, and the air smelled like fresh grass.

Richard and I agreed into a routine with clear rules: when to meet, how to behave, what not to cross. He constantly tested those boundaries though. Sometimes I caved, other times I suggested ending things if he didn't stop. Thankfully nobody suspects anything yet in the house aside from Evelyn.

The thing is, I'm starting to enjoy this strange arrangement, no matter how fleeting the moments are. Some mornings, I would wake up feeling empty without Richard's arm around me. The way he clings to me makes it hard to shake the feeling that something's missing when he's not there, and I hate how much he's growing on me.

He was becoming a habit I couldn't break, even if I wanted to.

Sometimes, I feel like giving in when he pleads, but I always send him back to his room, even though I would miss him the moment he leaves. Our moments together consists of late-night visits, stolen touches, and a shared understanding that no one could know.

But Richard... Richard wanted more.

"It doesn't have to be like this," he said one night, tracing circles on my shoulder.

"It does," I replied, staring at the ceiling. "If we're not careful, we'll get caught."

His hand paused, but I felt his frustration in the silence that followed. "I hate hiding," he admitted.

I didn't answer. There was nothing I could say that he hadn't heard before. For Richard, boundaries were obstacles to be challenged, not walls to be respected. For me, they were necessary to keep everything from falling apart.

I know this arrangement won't last, but for now, I push those thoughts aside.

Despite my warnings, Richard's persistence never changed. His texts during the day grew bolder and his stolen glances lingered longer.

And then Damien happened.

I was in the middle of planting tulips when my phone buzzed. I expected it to be Richard, but a quick glance showed Damien's name, followed by a text:

Damien: Hey Carl! Just to confirm, are you still in for tomorrow?

I replied with a quick yes.

Damien and I had been texting on and off lately, and he'd invited me to spend his birthday with him. A moment later, another message arrived, a funny meme about celebrating which made me laugh.

"What's with the smile?" Richard's voice cut through my thoughts, startling me.

I looked up to find him standing a few feet away, his tie loosened and his expression sharp. Damn it. I hadn't even heard him approach.

"I saw something funny." I said casually, slipping my phone into my pocket. I know how jealous he gets whenever Damien and I exchange some messages.

His eyes narrowed, as if he knew I hadn't told him the truth. "Carl," he said, his voice a clear warning.

I sighed. "Damien invited me to spend his birthday with him tomorrow. That's all."

Richard's expression shifted instantly. His jaw tightened, and his posture went rigid. "Damien," he said as if the name were a curse.

"He's my friend." I said, keeping my voice even. "Relax. It's just a birthday."

"Just a birthday," he repeated full of doubt. He shoved his hands into his pockets and took a step closer. "I swear that guy's up to something. Have you seen the way he looks at you?"

I blinked, genuinely confused. "How he looks at me? Um.. you mean to say like a friend?"

Richard let out a short, humorless laugh. "Carl, you're smart but also dumb. Don't be blind. Damien doesn't see you as just a friend."

I crossed my arms, starting to get irritated. "You're being ridiculous. Damien never gave me a reason to think otherwise."

"Not yet," Richard shot back. "But he will. Trust me, I know his type."

"His type?" I scoffed. "You don't even know him."

"I know enough," Richard said firmly. "And I'm telling you, I don't like this. Why does it have to be just you two? That's suspicious."

"It's not your decision, Richard. I already said yes."

"Then I'm coming with you."

"No, you're not," I said, glaring at him. "It's his day, Richard. You weren't invited."

"I don't care," he said, his tone defiant. "I'm not letting you spend the day alone with him."

I threw up my hands in frustration. "You're acting ridiculous! Damien is my friend. That's it. There's nothing to be jealous of."

Richard stepped closer, his voice becoming dangerously low. "You think I'm jealous? This isn't jealousy, Carl. It's knowing exactly what someone like him wants because I've been in his shoes."

I opened my mouth to argue but he seemed so certain so I stopped.

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, I thought he might continue to argue. But then he stepped back, his jaw tight. "Fine," he said sharply. "But if Damien even looks at you wrong, you text me. Right away."

"Richard—" I began, but he cut me off.

"I mean it, Carl. If he tries anything, I'll handle it."

I didn't know whether to be exasperated or laugh at his intensity. "Nothing's going to happen," I said softly, but even as I said it, I could see that Richard still wasn't convinced.

As he walked away, I drove the trowel into the soil. Part of me wondered if he was right. Was I being naïve, or were his insecurities clouding his judgment?

Time would tell, but I couldn't shake the thought: What if he was right?