8

Chapter 8

It was almost eight in the morning, but Richard was still in his room, likely sleeping. He'd gone out again last night, to God knows where, and I only realized he was missing when he wasn't at dinner. Evelyn had mentioned he went out, but she didn't say where.

I knocked on his door, but there was no response. I knocked again and waited, but the silence continued. Debating whether to open the door or not, I finally nudged it open.

And he's not in his room right now.

Did he even come home last night? I scanned the room for clues, but my question was answered when the bathroom door swung open. Richard stepped out with only a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, water still dripping from his hair.

"Yes?" he asked not even bothered by my presence.

"Nothing, sir," I stammered, averting my gaze quickly. "Just came to remind you it's almost eight, and you haven't had breakfast yet."

He frowned at the word "sir," irritation flashing in his eyes, but he didn't comment on it.

"Don't worry. We'll get to work on time."  he said confidently. Then, without the slightest hesitation, he reached for the edge of his towel.

Realizing what he was about to do, I spun on my heel and swiftly closed the door behind me before I saw anything more. My heart pounded against my ribs as I hurried down to the dining hall, instructing Evelyn to prepare his breakfast.

Not long after, Richard appeared, fully dressed in a crisp work shirt and tailored slacks. He looked every bit the professional, if not for the smirk playing on his lips.

"Join me," he said, motioning to the seat across from him as he sat down.

"I already ate," I lied, hoping to avoid another uncomfortable breakfast exchange.

"Fine. Stay anyway. I'll let you watch me eat."

I stayed out of politeness, sitting at the side of the table as he fished a piece of egg onto his plate.

"I thought you were only allowed eat after the master was done eating?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well," I replied, carefully keeping my tone courteous, "Special circumstances sometimes require bending the rules a little. We'd be late if I waited for you."

"Are you a slow eater or something?" he smirked. "Like I said, you can have breakfast with me, and we'd still be on time. Just admit the fact that you're avoiding me."

Ding! Ding! Ding! Bingo!

"No, sir. Why would I ever do such a thing?" I replied, doing my best to sound offended.

"Come on, Carl. You can do better than that." He pointed his fork at me like he was calling me out in a debate. "You're putting up walls, and I want to know why."

"I'm not, sir. Really."

"You even bolted out of my room earlier. Didn't even stay to witness the best part of the show." His mischievous grin widened.

"I don't get it," I said, pretending to be clueless about what he meant.

"Oh, come on. Aren't you the least bit curious?" he pressed, his smirk practically dripping with arrogance.

"My apologies, but I don't want my appetite for the day ruined. Thanks for the offer, though," I shot back, deliberately taking control of the conversation. If I didn't kill his newfound topic, I'd never hear the end of it.

The smirk fell from his face, replaced by a scowl.

"Enjoy your meal, sir," I added with a sweet smile, knowing it would irk him.

"Whatever," he muttered.

Speaking about seeing someone naked, I think it's time for us to have the talk. The moment felt ripe for a conversation that had been hanging in the air for days, one we'd avoided for years.

"Fine," I said, leaning slightly closer. "You're right. I still have reservations about you."

His expression brightened, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "So you are curious?"

"Yes," I replied, my voice steady despite being anxious about my next question. He put down his utensils, leaning forward with a grin like he'd won a prize. "Curious about whether I warped your juvenile mind when you saw me with my girlfriend that night in my bedroom" I continued.

The playful atmosphere evaporated, leaving behind a suffocating tension that made the spacious dining room feel claustrophobic.

"Congratulations," he said, voice rough as he jerked back in his chair. "You've officially ruined my appetite."

"But honestly," I continued, ignoring his discomfort, "you looked shocked before you stormed out."

"Sex doesn't shock me," he replied flatly. "I was already of legal age when I caught you. It wasn't something groundbreaking."

"But you pretended I didn't exist after that."

"I didn't."

"You absolutely did. We didn't speak again until you came home last week."

He crossed his arms, his gaze turning sharp. "Do you really want to have this talk now? Didn't you say we'd be late for work?"

"But as you said earlier, we have the time," I countered, mirroring his posture. "Unless, of course, you don't want to talk about it."

"Fine." he replied as if he had accepted a challenge. "Why don't you start by explaining why you never bothered to check in on me after you left for college?"

That caught me off guard. I bit my lip, the realization sinking in. He was right. I had been so wrapped up in my own life that I never thought to reach out.

"I'm waiting." he taunted.

I stayed silent. I was still trying to figure out how to respond to his question.

"When you came back for my graduation," he said, his jaw tightening, "I was excited to see you. I wanted to catch up, hear about your life... But instead, I find you with your  girlfriend having some carnal activities at my own party."

"In my defense," I began, "I was embarrassed. After you saw us, I thought you'd tell your parents, and I panicked."

"I wonder why." he muttered sarcastically.

"I did intend to talk to you after that," I said quickly.

"Oh yeah? But why didn't you?"

"I thought you never wanted to speak to me again."

"And you assumed I'd be fine with that?"

"You looked pissed all day," I pointed out. "Like you didn't want to talk to anyone."

"Hmm. What reason could it possibly be?" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, I remember. Who was it that couldn't even keep it in their pants long enough to say hello when they got back?"

We were going in circles. Neither of us was willing to back down, and the blame game was getting us nowhere.

"Fine," I said, exhaling heavily. "You're right. I should've reached out. But communication goes both ways, Richard. I didn't know if you saw me as a friend or just another employee."

He stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a glance at his watch, he stood abruptly. "We're late," he muttered, leaving his breakfast barely touched as he walked out.

I followed him to the car, where he slammed the door shut with more force than necessary. He was clearly still upset, but whatever was on his mind, he wasn't going to share it.

"You know I care about you, right?" I said as he started the engine.

He took a deep breath, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. "Yeah," he replied, his voice cold. "But not in the same way I care for you."