Proud Husband

Proud Husband
Collins’s POV
The weeks before had been a whirlwind, a nonstop swirl of boardroom wars, wedding plans, and the constant fear of keeping Amelia out of harm’s way. It was like walking through a minefield, running the company — from spies loyal to my uncle Richard, to incompetent executives. I’d spent days uncovering disloyalty, firing people who weren’t up to the challenge, and reorganizing the companyI’d struggled to build. 
At the same time, Amelia and I were patching together our “little wedding,” as she referred to it. She’d been determined to keep it small, her voice soft but resolute in those late night calls. “I’m only twenty, Collins. I don’t want a circus.” I’d said yes, charmed by her silent resolve. We’d decided on a private ceremony, family and only a few friends, but even that entailed endless logistics — venues, invitations, security. The image of her in a white dress, smiling shyly beneath a veil stayed my mind in the midst of the uproar. 
Becca had been a lifesaver. What I found more puzzling was her emerging closeness with Sean. I’d see them chatting. I didn’t see that coming, but I didn’t think about it either. If Becca was happy, she was focused, and I needed her focused.
David, was a different story. The man was a leech, always taking advantage of his “father in law” status to ask favors – access to company resources, introductions to my network, thinly veiled requests for cash. I had no patience for his nonsense, and last week, I exploded. “David,” I’d said, my voice cold over the phone, “lay back with all the act else, I will see to it you don’t have that cushy position. Don’t test me.” He had eased up, but I was sure he’d just been biding his time, waiting for an opportunity to use Amelia’s name again. I would protect her from him, as I protected her from everything else.
But there was Amelia, in my mind today. It had been more than a week since she’d returned to school, and our calls were my lifeline — her voice, her laughter, the sound of her teasing me about my “old man” ways. I missed her like hell. Withsurprisingly little to do on my schedule, I thought perhaps I should check in. She was most likely in class but Elena would know. I called the bodyguard, and leaned back in my desk chair, the view of the city stretching beyond the glass.
"Mr. Domingo," Elena said, businesslike and clipped. “Amelia’s fine, but she’s not in class at the moment.”
I frowned, sitting up. “Where is she?”
“She’s … fighting with someone,” Elena said.“It’s very heated, but she’s standing up on her own. Sounds like a private beef.”
My pulse shot up, a mixture of concern and frustration. “Arguing? With who? Why didn’t you intervene?”
“Trust me, she knows what’s going on. Want to see for yourself? I can switch to video.”
“Do it,” I said, harsher than I had meant to. A few seconds later, my endlessly buzzing phone erupted with a video call. Elena’s camera was faraway and discreet, but clear enough to reveal Amelia in the center of a courtyard with a small crowd around her. She stood there tense, her as sheglared at Sophie, who used to be her best friend. My jaw tightened. Sophie. The girl who had betrayed Amelia, who had picked that Joel over her. What the hell was this about?
The sound crackled, but Sophie’s voice was sharp and accusing. “You fucked my boyfriend, Amelia! You pretended to my friend while you stole Joel behind my back!” Her friends joined in, their voices a chorus of poison, calling Amelia a home wrecker, a liar. The words hit me. Joel. That lowlife who had tried to attack Amelia at his party. That lie was so disgusting I was nearly vomiting.
I gripped my phone, about to shout at Elena to step in, but then Amelia made a move. She laughed, large and fearless, cutting through the noise and raised her hand, my ring catching a spot of the sunlight. “Your man? C’mon, girl, I’m married!” she screamed, her voice full of defiance. The crowd gasped, Sophie looked at her with a look of horror on her face, and I was filled with a pride so intense that it almost took my breath away.
Sophie replied, her voice lifting. “You’re lying! You’re lying to cover for yourself!”
Amelia laughed easily and reached for her phone. She pushed it toward Sophie with her finger, somewhat dismissively. “Check my student ID. Updated this week. Marital status: married. You don’t think I’d fake that for you?”
The camera panned in a little tighter, with Elena’s steady hand leading the way, and I saw Sophie’s face turn white as she stared at the screen. Amelia didn’t stop there. “You’re a bad friend, Sophie,” she said, low, and cutting. “And stubborn. You chose Joel over me, even after I told you what he did. You’re jealous—jealous because I forgave you, because I’m happy. And that dude you’re weeping about? He’s a rapist. A scumbag who used you for an ego stroke. He never cared about you.”
Sophie's friends went silent, the crowd murmured. Sophie’s mouth gaped, but no words came. Amelia advanced, “You’re out here ruining my reputation, telling lies that I stole your trashy boyfriend. For what? Just to make yourself feel better about the fact that you made that bad choice? Joel compared you to me because he’s a creep, not because I did anything. You were warned, but you didn’t listen. That’s on you.”
I could feel my chest swell, and my anger turn to admiration. Amelia was a force, her strength evident even underneath the pain of Sophie’s betrayal. She wasn’t the terrified girl who’d wept in my arms after we’d fought. She was my wife, taking her place, refusing to be broken.
“You,” said Sophie, spluttering with a red face. “You’re a liar! You—”
“Hush,” said Amelia, and her voice cold. “You spoke of leaving this relationship so let’s leave it at that. Stay out of my life.” She spun, her hair flying and walked out of the courtyard, the crowd giving way as if she were a queen. Elena’s camera remained trained on her for a few seconds before the call disconnected.
I leaned back, my heart pounding, the sight of Amelia’s ring shimmering in my mind.  She wasn’t only fighting them; she was claiming us, our marriage, our future. I’d never been moreprouder. The image of her growling and fearless only made the already growing distance between us ache more. I wanted her here, in my arms, where I could tell her how amazing she was.
I put the phone down and a smile pulled at the corner of my mouth. The disorder of the company, David’s plotting, even Jenny’s threats—they vanished with the mere thought of Amelia’s courage. She was my other half, my equal, and I’d do whatever it took to keep her out of harm’s way. For now, though, I allowed the memory of her defiance to rest within my chest, warm and solid.  “I miss you…” I whispered.

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