Chapter 8: Beneath the Surface
329 Words
The air inside the mansion had grown thicker since Julian’s arrival. Rita could feel tension even in the way Richard walked—more guarded, more watchful.
That evening over dinner, the clinking of cutlery filled the silence until Rita finally broke it.
“Do you always keep people at a distance?”
Richard didn’t look up. “Yes.”
“Even your family?”
“Especially them.”
Her fork paused mid-air. “And me?”
His eyes flickered to hers, sharp and unreadable. “You’re different.”
“How so?”
“Because I don’t know how to keep you at a distance.”
The words caught her off-guard. She wasn’t sure if it was a compliment or a warning.
She set down her fork, watching him. “Is that why you pull away whenever we get too close?”
He leaned back, exhaling softly. “I don’t want to hurt you, Rita.”
“You haven’t.”
“Not yet.”
There was a weight in his voice that unsettled her. Like he was battling demons he refused to name.
“Look,” she said gently, “I may not come from wealth or power. But I’m not fragile, Richard. If something’s wrong, say it. Don’t hide behind walls.”
He studied her, then gave a small, almost sad smile. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“Try me.”
For a long moment, he didn’t respond. Then he stood up, walked over, and reached for her hand. The gesture was warm, human—surprisingly intimate.
“I’m trying, Rita,” he said quietly. “That’s all I can promise right now.”
She looked down at their joined hands.
It wasn’t love yet.
But it wasn’t nothing either.
Something was shifting between them. A wall coming down, a curtain pulling back. And though the truth remained hidden, Rita knew one thing for sure—
Whatever Richard was protecting her from… it was getting closer.
- Writer
