The Debt Bride

Chapter Thirty-Four

  The next morning at Rhysand's company, the atmosphere was buzzing with the usual hum of activity. Amy and Rhysand arrived together, their easy rapport and occasional glances filled with an intimacy that did not go unnoticed. Among those who observed was Richard, his heart heavy with a mix of jealousy and longing.

  Throughout the day, Richard found himself unable to look away, following Amy and Rhysand from a distance, his eyes tracing their every interaction. He watched the way Rhysand's hand would linger on the small of Amy's back, the way she would smile softly at something he whispered. The sight stirred a turmoil of emotions within him.

  By the time evening fell, the office was nearly empty. Rhysand and Amy walked to their car, their conversation punctuated by laughter and the occasional touch. Richard's resolve hardened; he had to speak to Amy, to lay his feelings bare.

"Amy!" Richard's voice rang out, desperate and raw. Amy turned, surprise flashing across her face. Rhysand's expression darkened, his grip tightening protectively around Amy's hand.

Richard took a deep breath, his voice trembling.

"I need to talk to you. Alone."

Rhysand stepped forward, his presence imposing. "What do you need to say that can't be said in front of me?"

Amy, sensing the tension, placed a calming hand on Rhysand's arm. "It's okay, Rhysand. I'll hear him out."

But before she could take a step, Richard's frustration boiled over. "I love you, Amy!" he shouted, the words echoing in the stillness of the parking lot.

"I need you", The admission hung in the air, a stark contrast to the quiet evening.

Rhysand's reaction was immediate and visceral. He surged forward, grabbing Richard by the shirt, his face inches from his. "You have no right—" he began, his voice a low growl.

"Rhysand, stop!" Amy's shout cut through the tension, her eyes wide with alarm. She stepped between them, forcing Rhysand to release his grip.

"Richard, I see you as a good friend, nothing more," Amy said firmly, her voice steady despite the turmoil around her. "And...I'm not interested in you that way."

  The words struck Richard like a physical blow. He staggered back, pain and rejection written across his face. Without another word, he turned and walked away, his silhouette quickly swallowed by the darkness.

  Silence descended, broken only by the distant sounds of the city. Rhysand's anger slowly ebbed, replaced by a protective concern. He reached out to Amy, his touch gentle. "Are you okay?"

Amy nodded, though her heart was heavy with the weight of the confrontation. "Yes, I'm fine. Let's go home."

  They got into the car, the drive back to the mansion cloaked in a reflective silence. Amy's thoughts were a whirlwind, the evening's events replaying in her mind. She cared deeply for Richard as a friend, but his confession had added an unexpected layer of complexity to their relationship.

  At home, the house was quiet, offering a respite from the day's drama. As Amy prepared for bed, she found herself thinking of Richard's pained expression, hoping that he would find peace and understanding in time.

  Rhysand joined her, his presence a comforting anchor. Despite the tension of the evening, he was gentle and considerate, his protectiveness a silent promise. They settled into their respective places for the night—Amy on the bed, Rhysand on the couch—each lost in their thoughts.

  As the darkness deepened, Amy reflected on the complexities of the human heart. Love, friendship, and loyalty were tangled threads in the tapestry of their lives, each one pulling and tightening in unexpected ways. And though the night had been fraught with emotion, she found solace in the quiet understanding that had grown between her and Rhysand.