Married To My Ex-Husband’s Rival by Jobet GraySon
Chapter 35

Chapter Thirty Five 

Amber’s POV. 

We arrived at Richard’s place, or should I say my new home, but instead of feeling excited about anything, I felt a wave of confusion wash over me, specifically when Richard silently stepped out of the car and opened my door without saying a word to me.. 

His lack of communication startled me, and I couldn’t help but wonder what could have caused this sudden change in his demeanor. Gripping the edge of my wedding dress tightly, I trailed behind him, desperately trying to make sense of his silent behavior. 

We entered the house, and I finally mustered the courage to break the silence. “Richard, what’s going on?” I questioned, my voice laced with concern. “Are you upset about something?” 

Richard turned back to look at me, his expression devoid of emotion. “There is no problem, Amber,” he replied curtly, his tone harsher than I had ever heard before. 

The disinterest in his voice sparked skepticism in me, fueling my belief that something had indeed upset him. A nagging thought crept into my mind, wondering if it was my admission in the car concerning the k*ss that had caused this change in him. 

Before I could voice my concerns, Richard continued speaking, his voice lacking the warmth and silliness I had come to associate with him. “Your room is the guest room you stayed in a few days ago,” he stated, his gaze held firmly on mine. “I had it rearranged to make it more comfortable. Anything you need, ring the bell in your room, and a servant will attend to you.” 

His words were delivered with finality, leaving no room for further discussion. With a stern expression on his face, he bid me, goodnight and walked away, leaving me standing there in confusion. 

I watched him ascend the stairs. A heavy sigh escaped my l*ps as I made my way to my assigned room. The feeling of warmth and satisfaction we had shared during the wedding seemed to have dissipated, 

replaced by an uncomfortable atmosphere. 

Even though our marriage was a charade, it didn’t sit well with me that we were already having issues on our first day as husband and wife. 

Determined to clear the air, I d 

ettled in and changed out of 

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Chapter Thirty Five 

my wedding dress. 

I walked into the room, my mind swirling with thoughts. 

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How was I supposed to start a conversation with Richard? How could I get him to admit that he was upset with me? I pondered over these questions, mulling over the fact that despite only knowing him for a week, I had already recognized his stubborn nature. 

I wondered if he would still be open to talking to me, especially after his uncharacteristically cold. 

behavior earlier. 

Frustration gripped me as I let out a tired sigh, sinking to the edge of the bed. My mind was a pile of confusion, trying to think of how to go about our charade of a marriage smoothly, and also figure 

out Richard’s behavior. 

I glanced at the wedding dress, deciding to pull it off me since it was starting to feel very heavy. 

The invisible zipper at the back of the dress mocked me, my fingers fumbling around in vain attempts to pull it down. It was a design style that allowed the zipper to remain hidden from sight, but now it left me completely helpless. 

I remembered Richard’s words, his advice to call on a servant through the bell in my room if I needed anything, made me feel a small glimmer of hope, so I decided to use it. 

I pressed the bell button by the bedside, waiting patiently for a servant to come to my aid. Several 

minutes passed, yet there was no response. 

An uneasy feeling crept up, but I tried to dismiss it, assuming that the servant was simply occupied 

with other tasks. Determined, I pressed the button again, hoping to catch their attention this time. 

However, minutes turned into more minutes, and my repeated attempts went unanswered. 

With a heavy heart, I realized that I had no other choice but to get Richard’s help, since I wouldn’t 

be able to pull off the dress myself. Even if it meant facing his frustration head–on, I’d still get 

his help. 

Deciding to brave the storm, I stood up from the bed and adjusted my nerves, preparing myself for 

whatever confrontation awaited me. 

I stood in front of Richard’s, room, my heart pounding in my chest. My nerves churned, battling with 

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the overwhelming desire to speak to him. 

I knew it was risky, given the icy atmosphere between us, but I had to try, and my wedding dress was more than perfect as an excuse. I took a deep breath, gathered my courage, and finally mustered the strength to knock on the door. 

Silence greeted me, amplifying my anxiety. Was Richard purposefully ignoring me? Did he hear me knocking, but chose not to respond? 

The thought unsettled me, a wave of hurt crashing over my already fragile emotions. What had I done to deserve such treatment? I struggled to make sense of it all, my mind picking apart everything that 

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happened today, desperate to understand the cause of his coldness. 

Without conscious thought, my hand reached for the doorknob, and to my surprise, it turned. The door swung open, drawing me into Richard’s personal space without invitation. 

I stepped inside, my eyes widening in awe at the sheer size of his room. It was at least three times 

larger than mine, which was already quite spacious. 

I traversed the room, my gaze taking in the luxurious furnishings and obvious expensive decorations. It felt like stepping into another world altogether. 

I marveled at the grandness that surrounded me, envisioning the kind of life Richard led. It was starkly different from the less privileged existence I had known. 

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As my initial shock subsided, my attention was drawn to a pile of clothes on the bed. My curiosity got the better of me, and I let my mind wander. Since I was rather slow, I simply stared at the pile of clothes, wondering where Richard was. 

Just as I contemplated leaving his room, the sound of running water startled me. Realization dawned on me as I understood that Richard was in the bathroom, and not purposely snubbing me. 

Heat rushed to my cheeks at the realization of my impulsive intrusion. I should have given him his privacy. 

With my heart pounding, I pivoted and took a step toward the door, desperate to exit the room discreetly. But my movement came to an abrupt halt as Richard emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. 

Time seemed to stand still as my eyes widened and my breath hitched. It wasn’t just the sight of Richard shirtless for the first time, his damp hair and water droplets glistening on his skin that shocked me. It was something else that caught my attention, something unexpected. 

His tattoos. 

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