Chapter 344
“Time for bed,” Charles announced as he walked into the room, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.
Evelyn knew there was no point in arguing. She quietly tucked away her half- finished design sketch, slipped it into her bag, grabbed her medication, and made her way out of the room. Taking the meds had caused her period to start early, which meant Charles couldn’t touch her. Yet, surprisingly, he still insisted she stay with him, sharing the same bed.
Sleeping next to him was out of the question for Evelyn, but she couldn’t say no. She had to rely on melatonin to get some rest; without it, her health would suffer.
Wesley was back, and just as she suspected, his ties to Dahlia were significant. Following Wesley’s trail would surely lead her to evidence of Dahlia’s misdeeds. Wesley was the linchpin.
As these thoughts swirled in her mind, Evelyn felt Charles climb into bed, wrapping his arms around her from behind. Her body tensed, staying rigid until the medication took effect and she could finally relax.
Charles pulled her closer, tightening his embrace.
Over at Greenrose Manor
Dahlia finally drifted off to sleep around midnight, content. Wesley was gentle with her, kissing her cheek tenderly as she dozed off. He wanted nothing more than to stay the night, to be with Dahlia and Sandy every possible moment.
But he had come to fix something, and he knew he had to leave before dawn. If anyone saw him in the morning, Dahlia would be livid. She had already put up with so much for him and Sandy; he couldn’t make things harder for her.
He sat by the bed, watching Dahlia sleep, before reluctantly leaving. He stopped by Sandy’s room, watching her sleep, her cheeks rosy and healthy.
Dahlia had mentioned how happy she was about his return. Soon, once Rosa’s mourning period was over, she would marry Charles and separate from Wesley, securing a fortune that would allow their little family to be together openly.
Wesley left before the first light of day.
The next morning at Charles’s place
Evelyn woke up, realizing she was in Charles’s arms. She didn’t hesitate;
she slipped out of his embrace
emotionless as she tossed the
covers aside and got up.
Charles opened his eyes, having already been awake, just waiting for Evelyn to wake up.
“I’d like some oatmeal and a few
side dishes for breakfast,” Charlet
told Evelyn, trying to reignite the old feelings she once had for him, like five years ago.
Evelyn remembered what Charles had said in the hospital: “You just need to know you have no choice.”
Until her mother’s surgery was successful, she had no choice.
She headed silently to the kitchen.
Charles stood outside, watching Evelyn as she worked, imagining how she used
to prepare breakfast for him at Oakwood Manor five years ago.
Half an hour later, breakfast was
ready. The oatmeal was mushy, the
eggs
were burnt, and the side dishes
were either sickly sweet or
nove
unbearably salty.
Charles made a face.
Evelyn, ignoring Charles’s look of dismay, went to change her clothes.
With the breakfast uneatable, Charles followed her into the walk-in closet.
“I’d like to wear this suit today. Can you iron it for me?” he asked.
Evelyn used to do this without a second thought, always making sure his clothes were perfectly pressed and wrinkle-free.
She didn’t resist, taking the clothes to iron them.