Richard's footsteps echoed in the silence as he stepped into the room, his presence dominating the space. His eyes fixed on the screen, still displaying Jane's smiling face, but there was no warmth in his gaze—only cold determination.
"You don't deserve her," Richard's voice was low but sharp, the accusation cutting through the air like a blade. His words stung, striking Nick at the core.
Nick shot to his feet, the weight of the accusation making his chest tighten, his pulse quickening. "What?" His voice wavered, a mixture of confusion and anger.
Richard crossed his arms, his gaze unwavering. "I never liked you from the start," he confessed, his tone raw. "And yeah, I was jealous of you. Only you can make her smile like that. But you misunderstood everything." He let out a heavy sigh. "I'm not dating her, Nick."
Nick blinked, his mind scrambling to process what Richard was saying. "What do you mean?" The words barely made it past his lips, still in disbelief.
Richard's expression softened, as if finally letting go of the tension that had been hanging between them. "That day, I took her to my room to talk about my wife. She helped us fix things. She called my wife and helped us patch things up. She's a good person, Nick. A wonderful soul."
Nick's heart pounded in his chest, a dizzying mix of relief and regret flooding over him. Just then, Richard's wife stepped into the room. She was a vision of warmth, her presence like a gentle breeze after a storm. Richard's hand found hers, fingers intertwining as he introduced her with a smile. "This is my wife," he said, his voice tender.
"It's true that she had a crush on me a long time ago. I was just one of a profile her father chose when they were planning for her marriage. Her father spoke to my family but rejected her without even consulting with me. My family never mentioned about her to me," Richard explained, his voice sincere. "She got married later to a guy and it didnt work out between them. She had to end 3 years of marriage and moved her. I met her through my friend and she never mentioned that she knew me. She just became my friend. But when she knew I was married She told me the truth that day and said that it was just a crush, all she wanted was to help me get my love back. She made us patch up."
Nick's chest tightened further, guilt rising up like bile. His mind was spinning with confusion, but everything Richard said made sense, in its own way.
"I'm sorry," Nick muttered, his voice thick with regret.
Richard gave a small shake of his head, his eyes softer now. "You're apologizing to the wrong person, Nick. It's Jane who's been hurt. She loves you, but she doesn't understand it. She thinks it's just friendship, but we all see it. Everyone around her can see how much she cares about you. You've got to go after her before it's too late."
With those final words, Richard and his wife left the room, leaving Nick alone with the overwhelming rush of emotions flooding his mind.
Without wasting another second, Nick bolted from the room, his heart hammering in his chest. His feet pounded the pavement as adrenaline surged through his veins. His mind was a blur, thoughts jumbled and racing as he scanned the street for any sign of Jane.
Panic gripped him as he came up empty. She was nowhere to be found. He reached for his phone, fingers trembling as he dialed her number, only to be met with silence.
Frantically, he called Emily, hoping she had seen something, anything that could help him find Jane. The phone rang endlessly before it clicked, and Emily's voice came through—breathless, frantic.
"Where are you?" Nick's voice cracked, his desperation spilling into every word.
"I'm at the intersection," Emily panted, her voice sharp with exhaustion. "I've been looking for her everywhere, but I can't find her. Her phone is off. I don't know where she went, Nick."
Fear clawed at him, sharp and suffocating. His hands shook, but he couldn't stop. His mind was in chaos, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Stay there," he commanded, his voice tight with urgency. "I'm coming."
Nick's heart hammered in his chest as he cut the call. He didn't have time to think, didn't have time to waste. He rushed back to his car, the engine roaring to life. His hands were slick with sweat as he gripped the steering wheel, speeding through the streets, his eyes scanning every alley, every side road. She couldn't be far. She hadn't taken her car.
Tears blurred his vision, falling silently down his face as the weight of his panic consumed him. What if something happened to her? The thought gnawed at him, relentless and suffocating, as his mind spiraled with every worst-case scenario. The road stretched before him like an endless tunnel, but no matter how fast he drove, he couldn't outrun the gnawing fear in his chest.
As he hit the main road, his heart dropped, a lump forming in his throat. A crowd had gathered at the intersection. Murmurs rippled through the air. Panic surged through his veins, his hands trembling as he spotted something that made his blood run cold—a black shoe on the pavement. A shoe that looked eerily familiar.
"No, no, no," he whispered, the words slipping past his lips in a rush of breathless fear. His pulse thudded in his ears as he threw the car into park and bolted from the vehicle, his legs carrying him forward like a blur. He shoved through the crowd, pushing past bystanders with frantic urgency.
"Excuse me! Let me through!" he shouted, his voice raw with panic. His feet pounded against the pavement, his heart in his throat, the world around him spinning as he reached the center of the chaos.
The sight before him was enough to freeze him in place. His breath caught in his throat. A girl lay on the ground, motionless, blood pooling around her. Nick's heart skipped a beat, the ground beneath him suddenly giving way as his legs buckled. His body crumpled to his knees, a wave of nausea rising up his throat.