Chapter 10: The Growing Envy

Scarlet sat across from Bernard, sipping her drink and making every effort to overlook the tension in the room. She had moved into Tucker's mansion weeks ago, but the sense of alienation, a stranger in a place meant to be her new residence, had not faded. Her walls were smothering her, closing in on her, and it was only getting worse every day. Of course, the reason most of her conflict stemmed from was Tucker. She felt like a ghost from his apathetic attitude to her, his insistence that their marriage was only ceremonial, and the chilly manner he handled her. She couldn't understand, but there was still a part of her that yearned for the man she had loved—the man who had been passionate and gentle before everything turned south. Then then came Bernard. It was comfort to have him in her life always. Only he really knew her, and he still saw her as Scarlet rather than as a pawn in a game she never wanted to play. But lately, Bernard's presence seemed to be driving a distance between her and Tucker that was widening with every instant.

She looked across the room at Bernard and saw Tucker staring at them from the doorway, his face unreadable but definitely anxious. Though that couldn't be, his eyes flicked with something deeper, something like jealousy. Envy of a basic florist drives the merciless millionaire Tucker Beaumont. It contradicted logic. Still, the uncomfortable sensation twisted in her gut and she couldn't control it. Bernard's proximity to her just seemed to heighten the suspense; she felt like a pawn in Tucker's game. She knew Tucker disliked it, but he had never come out and stated it until lately. Tucker burst into the room, his jaw clenched and his motions quick. An rage as familiar to her as the rear of her palm permeated the air around him. Bernard captured his whole attention, and for a split second Scar felt a cold go down her spine. "What's happening on here?," asks Tucker's voice was chilly and tinged with something she couldn't exactly identify. Bernard got up, his attitude defensive. "Nothing, Tucker," Simply speaking. Tucker stepped forward, never looking away from Bernard. "I don't want you getting too close to her," he continued, his voice calm but sharp. The pulse of Scarlet missed a beat.

She had never seen Tucker like this before that is, so overtly hostile. Bernard never wavered. And why would any of your worry be related to? Tucker's tone sank lower, "because she's my wife." And you are stretching a line. Scarlet watched the conversation take place in front of her, heart pounding. Not about her here was this. This has to do with control. Tucker had never let anyone not even Bernard get near to her before, and it was obvious now he wasn't about to start.

Her hands tightly at her sides, she got up. "That's plenty, both of you," she said, her voice strong. "I have no need for this. Not straight now. But the conflict stayed, heavy and tangible, as Tucker's gaze sharpened at Bernard and the two men engaged an unspoken challenge. Bernard spoke once more at last, his tone cool but firm. "I will keep my distance, Tucker. But you should be aware that I go far back and scarlet is quite old. You cannot simply dominate all aspect of her life. Bernard turned and exited the room, leaving Scarlet standing there stuck between the two men uncertain of what occurred next.

Scarlet couldn't force herself to follow Tucker's footsteps, which sounded down the corridor, weighted and intentional. She stayed in the living room, fixed on the void where Bernard had stood just minutes before. Her had suffered from the stinging remarks, the tense environment, and the unvarnished emotions. She stood there still for a time, then moved to the balcony in search of some air to help her to clear her head. Leaning against the railing, the cool breeze felt rejuvenating on her face; her mind whirled. Was this the life she had pictured for herself? Was the man she had previously loved this one? Before Tucker spoke, she had not even aware he was behind her. "You shouldn't be out here alone," he remarked, his voice low and the customary hardness replaced with something softer, something almost vulnerable. She turned to face him, but instead of hostility or distance she saw a tiredness in his gaze. Though his stance was laid back, he exuded something that didn't quite fit. Tucker had always been strong and unwavering, but in this instant he appeared nearly defeated. Trying to cover the anguish in her chest, she said, "I thought you didn't care if I was alone or not." Her comments were cutting, but under them was a subdued desperation. Tucker moved in closer, his face insumutable. She noticed the gaps in his armor at that instant, even yet he remained the man who had violated her confidence and injured her. "I do not. Still, Scarlet, I worry about you.

His voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air, weighty and loaded with years of suffering and hate. Breath of scarlet caught in her throat. Was he speaking in line with what she believed? Alternatively was this simply another manipulation? Her heart thumping in her chest, she searched for the appropriate words. She started, "Tucker," her voice cracking, "you can't just " But Tucker's eyes flicked with something darker before she could finish. His expression softened as he replied, "Maybe you need to forgive yourself before you can forgive me." "Perhaps both of us are still clinging to things we ought not to."

Her expectations were not matched by the words' impact. She had never considered it from that standpoint. She had never stopped to consider her own part in the disaster they had produced, even though she had been entirely preoccupied with the betrayal, the hurt, the rage. Between them, a stillness thick and awkward stretched. For the first time since they had been back together, they seemed to be viewing each other differently. Still there was the fury, the pride, the hurt; but there was something else. Something they both could not ignore. She started to talk, but the words wouldn't come out. She nodded instead, her eyes lowering to the floor. And as she went, Tucker murmured, "Maybe we can repair this... together."

The disagreement had been smoldering for days, getting more heated every minute. Neither of them was ready to concede, neither was ready to own their mistakes, and tonight it all finally came to pass. Scarlet ran out of not too long ago. She stormed into the living room where Tucker was seated, his typical distant demeanor in place, and the frustration, the fury, the hopelessness boiling up. Her pulse was in her ears; the heat in her chest was growing. She snapped "Tucker!" with trembling voice. "Why do you treat me this way? Why are you still penalizing me for something I did not even choose? Tucker's mouth tightened and his eyes hardened. His voice frigid, he shot back, "You decided to leave me, Scarlet." You walked away when I most needed you. You expect me to simply forget? You think you could come back now, after everything? "I left you by default not by choice!" Scarlet yelled while her hands shook at her sides. "I had no choice even if I wanted not to go. Tucker, you know nothing about the enemies I was facing.

You believe I did not love you? You believe I intended to injure you? You should have told me, he spat, his wrath rising to match hers. You should have told me the truth. Breath choked Scarlet as she at last let the truth escape from her mouth. "I cannot! I could not say it aloud, and I could not harm you any more than I had already done. You say I should have lived without you? You believe I intended to leave you behind? Tucker glanced aside, his frustration bubbling over, after softening his eyes momentarily. "It doesn't matter anymore," he said, his voice once more frigid. You made your decision; I made mine. Heart thumping, Scarlet stood there, mind racing. She wanted to scream, break down, but instead she only murmurs, "You don't realize what you've done, Tucker." He bolted off with that, leaving her standing there unsure of what followed next but knowing that the road ahead would be even more difficult than she had thought.