"Rosa, don't worry. Even if you're not practicing law anymore, I can take care of you."
Rosamond's expression didn't change. She sidestepped his hand, swallowing the pain, her tone flat:
"I don't need you to take care of me."
He'd already made his choice. There was no point pretending to care now.
Bryce's throat bobbed. He stared at Rosamond, dazed. The love that once filled her eyes had been replaced by something vast and empty, and it stung like looking into the sun.
His chest tightened with a dull, suffocating ache.
Why? He'd always loved Olympia, hadn't he? He'd only married Rosamond on impulse, out of spite.
Now Olympia had achieved her dream. She'd gotten what she wanted, taken Rosamond's place. He should be happy.
So why did the look of disappointment in Rosamond's eyes cut so deep?
It was probably just responsibility.
That was how Bryce consoled himself.
Right. Responsibility. He had married her, after all. Helping Olympia scheme against her like this was, admittedly, unfair.
But it didn't matter. They were still husband and wife. He'd make it up to her later.
The thought loosened the knot in his chest for a moment. He was about to say something when Olympia cut in:
"Bryce, come shopping with me."
"I'm about to get promoted, so I should pick up some gifts for my team."
Bryce glanced at Rosamond:
"Rosa, Olympia's still new in town. I need to look after her."
Rosamond's voice was even, the sorrow in her eyes fading into something blank:
"It's fine. Go."
Bryce blinked. Normally, whenever he mentioned spending time with Olympia, Rosamond would argue with him.
No matter how many times he insisted they were just friends, she never believed him.
Why was she so agreeable today?
He looked into her calm, unreadable eyes, and an inexplicable unease crept through him.
He started to explain without thinking:
"Don't worry, I'll come straight home after we're done. I won't be long—"
Before he could finish, Olympia turned to him with a wounded expression:
"Bryce, I know you're worried Attorney Henson will get the wrong idea. It's okay, I can go by myself."
She managed a tight, brave smile:
"I'm used to being alone."
She turned and walked out, leaving behind a lonely silhouette.
Bryce's face crumpled with sympathy, and he hurried after her.
In his mind, Rosamond was the wife who would always forgive him. Whenever they fought, she'd find her own way to let it go without him having to lift a finger.