Rhysand gets jealous.

*

Rhysand lets out a little shaky breath, hanging his head back, hands tightening on Andrea's hips. He groans, "Fuck, baby, you feel so good."

She digs her fingers in Rhysand's shoulders and moves, gasping, and Rhysand's teeth graze her throat. "Rhys," she moans.

God. "That's it, sunshine," Rhysand whispers, guiding her with his hands. "Riding me so well."

Andrea winds her arms around her husband's neck and rolls her hips, pulling him in for a desperate kiss.

"Turn around, baby," he rasps, pushing his thumbs against her hipbones.

His wife doesn't question it. She pulls off of him, whimpering at the loss, and kneels around his thighs, tugging her underwear to the side. Andrea arches her back and sinks into him, pressing her hands on Rhysand's thighs, and lets out a loud moan.

"Fuck," Rhysand breathes, hands coming down to her bottom. "Fuck, look at you, you're so goddamn beautiful."

She whimpers from the praise, hips stuttering around him. Rhysand's stomach coils at the feeling and the sound, and Andrea straightens, continuing her movements, and Rhysand straightens, too, chest to her back, pulling her to him. Andy lolls her head on his shoulder, gripping his wrists when they wind around her waist, mouth pressing hot kisses to her neck.

"More," Andrea gasps. "Want more, baby, please. Please, please—"

Rhysand flips them over, pushing Andy flat on the mattress. He grabs her ankles, pulls them up on his shoulder, and Rhysand fucks her.

Andrea's eyes roll to the back of her head and her fingers fist the bedsheets, body quivering as she lies there and takes and takes and takes.

"Love it when you beg," he says hoarsely, hips quickening, hair falling over his eyes. "Come on, sunshine. Wanna make you come—fuck, yes, that's it."

Andrea's back snaps off the mattress as she shudders through it, sobbing his name.

"You're so fucking perfect," he groans, chasing his own orgasm, and he bites into Andy's shoulder when his hips stutter to a stop. "Fuck," he gasps, panting.

Rhysand drops himself on Andrea's body, hugging her tightly. She has a dazed smile on her face, legs shaking, and her fingers go to his hair to massage his scalp. "Well."

Rhysand laughs breathlessly on her shoulder. "I love you," he mutters sleepily.

"Don't fall asleep yet!" Andrea almost shrieks. "We need to clean up. You wanna shower, love?"

"Too tired," Rhysand groans.

Andy grins. "I'll shower." She pulls back, cups his face, and her heart bursts at Rhysand's droopy eyes. She kisses his forehead and whispers, "Was it good?"

"Perfect," is always Rhysand's response, and he always means it. "You always make me feel so good, sunshine."

She giggles, satisfied with his answer. "You do, too." She stands, untangling herself from him with great difficulty, and heads to the bathroom. Rhysand watches her pretty little ass go.

On the bedside table, Andrea's phone goes off once. Rhysand picks up his own phone, finding his wife staring back at him with a gorgeous smile, and scrolls through his messages, finding one from Sage.

concept meeting during dinner tmrw with 6/9ths. sent u some files

Rhysand groans, running a hand through his face. He loves his job. He loves working music, creating it, seeing it come to life—but does he have to do it during fuckin' dinner?

He sighs and tosses his phone on the mattress, sitting up.

Andrea's message notifications goes off again. Rhysand glances at it with a frown but doesn't bother, and turns his head so he can watch his wife shower.

Andrea's eyes are closed as she runs her fingers through her scalp. Rhysand admires the view head to toe, face on his chin.

All the times Andrea was already asleep when he came home late from work, Rhysand spent what felt like hours just staring at her, admiring her beauty. He can just...stare at her and never get tired.

When Andrea opens her eyes, she catches his, and she laughs. "Rhys! How long have you been watching me?"

He shrugs with one shoulder, mouth curling up to a smirk. "Continue."

Andrea shakes her head fondly with a grin and turns around, hands going to her body.

When she's done, wrapping a towel around herself, Rhysand watches her head to their closet. "You need to stop ogling me or else I'm going to need to shower again," Andrea warns, opening her drawers.

It makes Rhysand laugh loudly. "Maybe I want that."

Andrea grins at him. "Are you just gonna go to bed naked or what?"

Rhysand huffs and stands, walking towards her. He pushes her wet hair aside to one shoulder when he comes close, hands squeezing her waist, and bends down to kiss her neck. "I have to look at some work before bed," he mumbles sullenly.

"It's late," Andrea says, frowning. "Go over it tomorrow, love. You're tired."

Rhysand sighs and steps back while she puts on her pajama top. "That's another thing. I can't pick you up because I'm going to dinner with one of our artists for a concept meeting. I'm sorry, sunshine."

"S'okay!" Andrea assures him, shaking her head with a soft smile. She turns around to cup his face. "Don't worry about it. We'll have dinner on Friday instead."

"Thank you," Rhysand whispers, kissing her head.

Andrea's phone goes off again.

This time, Rhysand frowns, blinking at it. "You should go check that. It might be urgent, that's the third ring."

"Ah." Andrea buttons her top. "Can you go check it for me, baby?"

Rhysand blinks, surprised. "Oh. Really?"

"Yeah. The password is 432123."

Rhysand, despite himself, snorts. "You should change that."

Andrea rolls her eyes and bends down to dry her hair on her towel. "Just check it, please."

He does as she says, picking it up and unlocking the screen. He purses his lips, heart jumping—it's him and Biscuit on her wallpaper.

The messages are from an unknown number. Rhysand opens them.

Hi, Andy.

It's Logan, Carter's dad?

Sorry. I shouldn't be texting you this late, but I was just wondering if you were free for dinner tomorrow? Just to thank you for last time. I really appreciate it. If you're not, that's totally fine. Goodnight :)

"It's from a Logan," Rhysand tells her. "Carter's dad. Is that one of your students?"

"Yeah. What'd he say, babe?" Andrea asks.

"He asked if you were free for dinner tomorrow," Rhysand says. "To thank you for last time. What last time?"

"Ah." Andrea smiles a little. "Well, remember last week I had that presentation thing with the kids, we had to dance and all? Carter kind of...threw a tantrum because his mother wasn't there, and I had to calm him down. And then I talked to his father about him during the PTA, and he seemed...kind of embarrassed? I don't know, he said he felt alone raising the kid on his own, and I had to assure him he was doing a great job. Carter's a good kid."

"Oh." Rhysand smiles at her. "Maybe your encouragement helped him a lot, s'why he wants to thank you personally."

That, or he's infatuated with his son's teacher.

"Yeah, that's good." She jumps on the bed, and Rhysand gives her her phone, and she types her reply. "But he doesn't need to thank me."

Rhysand bites his lip.

He wants to ask how this Logan got her number, but figured it's because parents need it for situations regarding their kids. He wants to ask if Logan's aware she's married, but he knows Andrea never takes off her ring, but that she's still called 'Teacher Sanford' in school because the kids can't shake it off. He wants to ask if she wants to take him up on his offer, but he knows Andrea does think Logan doesn't need to thank her. She's Carter's teacher, and it's her job to take care of the kids in the school and to talk to the parents about them.

So he keeps his mouth shut. Besides, Rhysand trusts his wife. After all they went through, he trusts her, and she trusts him. He learned his lesson—he's not going to doubt her about anything.

Andrea has made sure Rhysand knows her heart only belongs to him. She shows it every day.

*

Eat a lot, baby!! Don't smoke, you're already doing so well and I'm super proud of you :D <3

Rhysand smiles at his phone, pushing the lollipop against his cheek. Noted, sunshine. Eat a lot, too. What's on the menu in the cafeteria today?

Embry snickers. "I find it funny Rhysand is in a suit sucking on a goddamn lollipop every day."

"His teeth will break from those damn sweets," Sage adds, shaking his head.

Rhysand rolls his eyes. "I'm not breaking my record. It's been months since I've touched a fuckin' stick."

His phone buzzes. Rhysand picks it up.

Pretty sure it's the macaroni salad, but I wouldn't know :0 I'm pulled to lunch with Logan and Carter just down the street!

Rhysand sits up. Oh. Really?

Andrea's chat bubbles appear. Logan wouldn't let up with thanking me, so he offered to buy lunch :/ and then carter was so excited, and I couldn't refuse :< I'll text u later baby ok? I love you so bad please take care

She follows that up with a barrage of emojis.

Rhysand sends her a heart. I love u too. Be safe

He puts down the phone, screen down, and taps his fingers on the table.

Sage raises an eyebrow, glancing at him. "What did you do now."

"Shut up," Rhysand grumbles.

He's not bothered. He's not. It's just a regular lunch from a parent thanking a teacher.

Or at least, that's what he thinks. They have pictures—the three of them.

He's good-looking, Rhysand thinks. Sitting across Rhysand's wife, kid beside him, widest grin on his face.

Rhysand puts down her phone and gives it to her, stomach churning uncomfortably. "That's...cute."

Andrea scrunches her nose. "Carter's pretty insistent when he wants to be. Anyway, I'm glad Logan thinks he doesn't owe me anymore."

Rhysand's glad too, and he thought that was the end of it.

But when he picks her up in the school on Friday, Andrea's bringing with her a single rose on one hand, her bag on the other, and her entire face brightens with a grin once she sees Rhysand leaning against the car.

"Hi, husband!" She rises up on her tiptoes to kiss him, and Rhysand's whole body melts into her, and he puts his hands on her waist, kissing her again when she pulls back, and he feels her smile on his mouth.

"Missed you," Rhysand whispers.

Andrea's laugh is music to his ears. "Feed me, then. Come on."

Rhysand puts his hand on her thigh as he backs up his parking space, eyes glancing at the flower. Swallowing thickly, he says, "You got an admirer?"

Andrea shrugs, a little smile on her face. "This was from Carter. He gave it to me during class and said that I looked pretty today."

Or from his dad. Rhysand's hand tightens on the steering wheel, but he smiles at her nonetheless. "You do. You're pretty every day."

Andrea giggles, leans over the console and kisses his cheek. "Thank you, baby. You look gorgeous every day, too," she whispers, flicking his earrings, and then she pulls back and interlaces their fingers together, humming.

Rhysand looks at the RH on her wrist and strokes it with his thumb, then returns his attention on the road.

It's been at the back of his mind for weeks now, brewing at the pit of his stomach, turning into something ugly and nasty he recognizes as jealousy, and Rhysand doesn't want to bring it up because he's matured. He's grown a lot from the boy who threw tantrums every time Andrea was nice to another guy and every time someone else gave her attention, from the boy who told her she was asking for that attention.

He feels secure and safe and loved in this relationship with his wife.

But why does he feel the need to talk about it?

"Okay, baby!" Andrea starts with a clap, jumping on her feet, clearly fuckin' excited because it's the first time Rhysand agrees to do something for her fucking TikTok account or something. "All you have to do is answer the questions honestly while I'm recording, okay?"

Rhysand scrunches his nose and looks at her phone sitting upright in front of them, camera on. "Okay...? I don't understand how this is something for TikTok, though. Isn't that where people dance or some shit?"

"Not always," Andrea laughs, hugging him. "You're so cute. You ready?"

Rhysand kisses her head. "Yeah."

Andrea turns around and presses the circle button for recording, and then steps back in Rhysand's space with a grin. Rhysand stares at her face in the camera and hugs her from behind, chin on her head.

"Questions for the boyfriends about their girlfriends," the phone says.

Rhysand frowns. "I'm your husband."

"Shh!" Andrea laughs.

"What is her favorite thing to eat?" the phone asks.

"Nuggets and gravy," Rhysand answers.

On the screen, Andrea nods, and her hands go to his hands on her waist. Their height difference looks so prominent on video.

"Does she have her nails done?"

"Yes," Rhysand says without looking. "They're white."

"Does she prefer cuddles or kisses?"

"Both," Rhysand says.

Andrea's grin is glued to her face.

"What does she wear the most?"

Rhysand slides one hand down to her bottom where her skirt ends. "These short-ass skirts."

Andrea slaps his hand away with a laugh, throwing her head back. "They're not short!"

"What makes her mad?" the phone continues.

"Animal violence," he says.

Andrea nods in agreement.

"What is her favorite thing for you to do together?"

"Fucking," Rhysand answers.

His wife gasps and turns around, smacking him, jaw open. "Rhys!"

Rhysand's mouth twitches. "Fine. Watching rom-coms without my complaints."

"What is something she loves about you?"

Rhysand swallows thickly and breathes in, and answers quietly, like he still can't believe it, "Everything."

Before, he would've said, "I have no idea."

Andrea strokes his fingers and nods in agreement with his answer.

"When is she most moody?"

"When she doesn't get fucked for a few days."

"Oh my God," Andrea breathes, slapping a hand to her forehead. Her face is flushed red. "We are filming a video, baby!"

It's true, though. Rhysand blinks. "Fine, when she misses me or when she hasn't gotten enough sleep or food in her."

"What makes her admire you?" is the next question.

Rhysand would've said he doesn't know, before. He has no fucking idea, he doesn't deserve to be admired or some shit.

Andrea has argued repeatedly she feels the opposite. So he sucks in a breath and says, "That I work hard for us. That I try to be the best man I can be for her every day."

Her face glows at his answer. She nods again, jumping on her feet.

Rhysand's heart picks up, and he bends down to kiss her forehead.

"Would she rather stay in or go out?"

He shrugs. "Both."

"What is she like when drunk?"

"Cute," Rhysand says with a laugh.

Andrea bites her lip, grinning.

"How often does she need attention?"

"Very often," Rhysand snorts. "Very clingy."

"You're clingy, too," Andrea argues, rolling her eyes.

Rhysand hugs her and sways them, and doesn't argue.

The phone doesn't say anything else, and Andrea pulls off of him, skipping to her phone. "Yay, that's it, love!"

Rhysand plops down on the couch.

Andrea's still smiling, replaying the recording. She sits down next to him and snuggles to his side, leg swinging over his body, head on his shoulder. "Thank you," she whispers, kissing his cheek.

Rhysand smiles. "You're welcome, sunshine."

While her eyes are on her phone, Rhysand watches it, too, and he thinks fuck we look cute and then a notification appears on the top of her screen, and it's Logan, and Rhysand's smile fades.

Hi, I'm really sorry I can't make it in the morning. What do you say about lunch instead?

Rhysand doesn't know how to say this, but he does, anyway. "Sunshine, can I talk to you?"

Andrea puts her phone down and looks at him, eyes wide. "Yeah, of course. What's up?"

He pointedly looks at her phone. "That. Him. I didn't want to bring it up because it wasn't a big deal, and you know I trust you, but..." he heaves a deep sigh and runs a hand through his face. "I just felt like I needed to tell you that he makes me uncomfortable. I can't explain it."

Andrea blinks up at him. "Logan?"

"Yeah." Rhysand shuts his eyes. "I'm sorry, baby. I just think it's more than a casual parent-teacher thing to him, and he keeps asking you out, and if you're friends with him, that's fine, I just—"

Rhysand grunts in surprise when his wife tosses the phone on the couch, straddles him, cups his face without warning, and plants a hard kiss on his mouth. His hands fly to her hips, and he groans at her desperate kiss, confused and surprised but not at all complaining at this reaction.

"Rhysand," she breathes when she pulls back, her hand sliding to the nape of his neck, and she presses their foreheads together. Her lips are already swollen. "Rhys, God, I love you."

Rhysand doesn't know what the fuck is going on. "I love you too," he answers hesitantly, blinking up at her.

Andrea senses his confusion and laughs heartily. "Thank you for talking to me about it. It must have been bothering you for weeks."

He purses his lips and clears his throat, looking away. "I know we're married and I have no valid reason to feel this way—"

"But you feel uncomfortable about him," Andrea says, shaking her head. "I know you trust me, but that's still also valid, baby. That's why I'm thanking you for raising it instead of keeping it to yourself."

Rhysand strokes her waist and mutters, "Well, that's how this works, right?"

"Yes." Andrea leans down to kiss him quickly. "Okay, look."

She reaches over for her phone and taps on it, then shows it to him.

Rhysand takes it quietly, furrowing his eyebrows, reading their message window a few days ago.

His wife said, thank you for the rose, Mr. Watson, but I don't feel comfortable receiving gifts like these from you, or going out for lunches or dinners with you and Carter. Please don't get me wrong, Carter's a great kid and I adore him, but as I've said countless of times from our first meeting, I'm happily married. And while I appreciate the compliments about my looks and personality, I don't also feel comfortable receiving them from you. Let's keep our relationship strictly to parent and teacher, and please message me only for concerns regarding Carter. Thank you :)

Rhysand blinks.

Andrea scrolls it down. "Read his reply."

I understand. I apologize for overstepping, and I'm really glad Carter has a good teacher.

The message after that was the one sent just a few minutes ago. Hi, I'm really sorry I can't make it in the morning. What do you say about lunch instead?

Andrea grins at him. "He's talking about meeting for Carter's grades. Strictly parent-teacher."

Rhysand lets out a breathless laugh, tossing her phone somewhere, running his hands through his hair. "Fucking hell."

Andrea squeals when Rhysand picks her up over his shoulder, and carries her to the bedroom. "Rhysand!" she shouts, laughing loudly. "Oh my God!"

"We'll do your favorite thing to do together," he tells her, tossing her on the bed, crawling over her body. "And mine."

Andrea laughs, kissing him.