Chapter 6: Cracks in the Ice
308 Words
Back at the mansion, the silence between Rita and Richard wasn’t cold—it was thick with something unsaid.
She removed her heels in the foyer, her feet aching more from the weight of society’s eyes than the stilettos themselves.
Richard loosened his tie, glancing at her. “You handled tonight better than I expected.”
“I wasn’t raised in high society,” she replied. “But I learn fast.”
A pause.
“I noticed,” he said quietly.
That night, Rita couldn’t sleep. She wandered out to the terrace, wrapped in a shawl, letting the breeze tangle her thoughts. The city lights glittered far below—a whole world she used to know.
Suddenly, footsteps.
She turned. Richard stood there, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, a glass of scotch in hand.
“You always roam the house like a ghost?” he asked.
“Only when I can’t breathe in it.”
His brow furrowed. “Is it that bad?”
“I don’t know what this is supposed to feel like. This life. This… marriage.”
He came closer, his gaze softening. “Neither do I.”
That stunned her more than anything.
“I didn’t marry you to punish you, Rita,” he said. “There are things I can't explain right now. But believe me when I say... you’re safer with me than without me.”
“Safe from what?”
He hesitated. “Let’s just say... not everyone was happy I married someone like you.”
Rita swallowed hard. “Like me?”
“Someone real.”
Then he turned, leaving her with more questions than answers.
But for the first time, Rita didn’t feel entirely alone in that house.
The cracks in Richard’s armor were beginning to show.
And behind them… maybe, just maybe, was the man she could love.
- Writer
