RedNovelRegret 126 "Tricia, are you... are you upset? I'm sorry, I just hate seeing you treated like this, that's all..." Genevieve realized she'd said too much. Worried her words might've hurt Tricia, she hurried to apologize. Tricia forced a smile. "It's fine, I get it. After all, Evander and I have been separated for six years now..." "So what if it's been six years? Speople break up and still get back together! Tricia, don't give up-you have to fight for it. I'm still hoping you'll end up as my sister-in-law!" "Alright," Tricia replied.
As soon as she hung up, her smile vanished.
She turned and walked toward the man standing by the window. "Charlotte broke things off with Evander, but it looks like he's not willing to let go. So-are you still holding up your end of our deal?" The man took his tadjusting his suit jacket. "Of course," he replied smoothly. Then he turned, fixing his gaze on her, and, unexpectedly, pinched her cheek. "But on one condition-don't lay a finger on Charlotte again." Tricia's eyes sparkled with mischief as she smiled up at him. "Understood." The moment he left, every trace of amusement drained from Tricia's face.
Everyone, one after another, only has eyes for Charlotte, don't they? She stared at the half-empty glass of red wine on the table, let out a dry laugh, and thought, I can't wait to see Charlotte's face when she finally learns the truth. How disappointed will she be then...? The old manor.
Charlotte spent the morning with the old lady, copying verses from classic poetry, all the way up until noon. She'd often heard the old matriarch say that copying poetry brought peace of mind, sharpened focus, and strengthened willpower. Letting your thoughts settle into the steady rhythm of the words, she'd say, purified the heart, cleared away distractions, 1/3 and brought a rare calm.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtCharlotte herself didn't have much faith in such rituals or any deep beliefs in religion, but compared to the rest of the Howard family, she was at least willing to go along.
She slipped out of the room and closed the door softly behind her.
Down the hallway, Evander was approaching with Linette, the housekeeper. Linette led the way, with Evander following at a leisurely pace.
Linette caught sight of Charlotte and nodded politely. "Mrs. Howard, you're finished?” Charlotte met Evander's gaze, then looked away as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “Grandma's going to rest now, so I thought I'd leave her in peace." As soon as Linette heard this, she went in to light scalming incense for the old lady.
Charlotte assumed Evander was looking for his grandmother, so she started to slip away. But behind her, his voice called her name.
She turned, puzzled. "Yes?" Evander cocked his head slightly, his eyes lingering on her face with a complicated look. "Did you and Grandma talk about anything important?" She shrugged, playing innocent. "We talked about all sorts of things. What exactly does Mr. Howard want to know?" He said nothing, but slowly rubbed his thumb over his ring finger, making his meaning clear. "From now on, when you're around the elders, wear your wedding ring." Charlotte's eyes instinctively dropped to his hand.
For a mornent, she was lost in thought.
The ring was custom-made for the Howard family: an eight-carat square diamond, surrounded by smaller stones, their initials engraved inside the band-priceless, or so they said.
But he'd only worn it for a single day.
She, on the other hand, had worn hers for six years.
Now she'd finally taken it off, and suddenly, he was wearing his again.
2/3 She looked at him. "Do the elders still care whether we wear our rings or not?" He hadn't worn his more than a handful of times in the past six years-had the family ever said anything about it? He responded coolly, "Only in front of them. Outside of that, do as you please." "Alright, got it," Charlotte said, then strode away without another word.
Meanwhile, once Xavier and Rachel learned they could finally visit their son again, they rushed straight to the hospital to sit by Hiram's bedside as he lay unconscious.
Seeing how well the nurses were caring for him, Rachel finally allowed herself to relax a little.
"My daughter, where's my daughter..."
Mrs. Rayburn wandered the halls, searching for her little girl. She couldn't tell one flook from another, but show to push the elevator buttons-she pressed every single one, stopping at every floor. By chance, the elevator opened on Hiram's floor.
Rachel, wiping tears from her cheeks as she stepped out to fetch warm! water for her son, hearly bumped into Mrs. Rayburn. When Rachel saw her, she was startled.
Mrs. Rayburn tilted her head, studying Rachel, then suddenly grabbed her arm. "Have you seen my daughter?"
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