The author’s love story

e out of the bathroom wearing a thin, backless lace nightdress. The nightdress was so short that I was showing a lot of skin. Standing by the French window, Charles Moore turned around. He was

ssed, coming closer to me. "Yes," I answered impatiently. "How could you, man? Scarlett's, like, our girl. We grew up with her. You and Rita are being cruel to her." I remained silent as the bartender set my drink in front of me. I decided not to answer Spencer. But what he said was true. Truth be told, I was nervous when I spoke to Scarlett last night about the divorce. Meanwhile, she just sat there the entire time, looking all calm and collected. I could not decide whether it bothered or impressed me. We had not seen each other for three years. She was no longer the sweet little girl who wore her heart on her sleeve. She had grown a lot. Seeing her again in that cool disposition upset me a little. "Did she agree?" David asked curiously. "Yes, she did." At this time, I was regretting my decision to come out and meet my friends. I just wanted to have a drink with them, and here they were grilling me with all these questions. "So you're really marrying Rita?" "Yes." "Are you serious? Are you really going to sacrifice your happiness just because she saved you?" David got quite emotional at my answer. He accidentally spilled his drink on my clothes. "Oh, my. I'm so sorry, man," David immediately apologized. Since I did not want to sit there looking like a total mess, I excused myself and went home to change my clothes. I left the bar and called for a transport service. I had planned on going home, but as soon as I got in the car, I found myself stopping to think. Then, I asked the driver to take me to Garden Street instead. When I arrived, the house was brightly lit, and I could hear bursts of laughter coming through the open windows. A familiar Mercedes was parked in the garage. It seemed that my mother and grandmother had come to visit. I walked quickly to the door, but before I could input the password, someone had already opened the door from the inside. "Where were you? Why weren't you answering my calls?" My mom trotted over and scolded me. "I was in a meeting, Mom." "What happened to your clothes? Did you drink? Oh my God, you're a mess. Go get changed." She wrinkled her nose and ushered me in. I entered the house and saw Grandma and Scarlett sitting in the living room, talking and laughing. There were fruits and even an apple pie on the coffee table. "Hi, Grandma." I went over to say hello and picked up a slice of apple pie, but my grandma slapped my hand away. "Hands off. That's not for you. That's for Scarlett." "Charles, what happened to you? Come, let's get you some fresh clothes." Scarlett stood up and walked toward me. "You've been married for a long time. Why do you still call Charles by his first name?" Grandma asked Scarlett and then looked at me suspiciously. "Is there anything wrong with the way I address him?" Scarlett stopped and asked. "Don't young married couples such as yourselves call their spouses honey or babe or something?" Scarlett froze and seemed to think for a while. Then, she said, "Come, honey. Let me help you change." She helped me take off my suit jacket and flashed me a sincere smile. "That's more like it," Grandma beamed, her tone filled with satisfaction. She loved Scarlett very much. While Scarlett was abroad during the past few years, Grandma often asked me about her. I just replied perfunctorily every time. Before long, Grandma started a new topic. "Charles, I've made an appointment with the doctor for you this week. Don't drink until then. I want you to go get yourself checked out." I was stunned. "But I've just had a health check-up, Grandma. I'm very healthy." "I don't want you to have another health check-up. It's a more specialized check-up. It's been several years. Where are my great grandchildren? And I think it's not Scarlett's fault. It's yours." Scarlett turned to looked at me. A muscle flickered in her jaw. She looked as if she was trying not to burst into laughter. Before I could defend myself, my phone rang, and I heaved a sigh of relief. Scarlett, who was holding my jacket, took my phone out of the pocket and saw the name of the caller on the screen. I could tell that it was Rita by the way her face suddenly changed. "Is it that woman? Oh, for crying out loud!" my mother exclaimed. I took my phone from Scarlett and rejected the call. "Is it Rita? You're a married man now, Charles. Why are you still involved with that woman? You should be loyal to Scarlett. And what were those photos of Rita trying on wedding dresses I saw on the news? What's going on?" Grandma nagged. "It's not what you think, Grandma." "Then why did you decline her call? Is there anything that you two have to talk about that you don't want us to hear?" I did not know how to answer. I could lie to others but not to my grandma. She always saw through me. Grandma was so angry that she trembled. Scarlett quickly poured her a glass of water. "Charles will be more than happy to answer your question, Grandma, but let me take him to change his clothes first," Scarlett said, pushing me upstairs and into the bedroom. "I have a couple of white shirts in the third cabinet." As Scarlett went to get me a clean shirt, I took off the one that David stained with his drink. It was already ruined. I really would not spare David next time. Then, I felt a palpable silence behind me. I turned around. Scarlett was standing there and staring at me with one of my shirts in her hand. She dipped her chin, trying to hide her blushing face. "How long have you been standing there?" She did not reply. She just quickly closed her eyes. I walked up to her. This time, I was able to see more of the new her. She was no longer the little girl she used to be. Her past three years in France had changed her from a mere bud to a delicate rose. Her long eyelashes were trembling. She looked a little nervous as if she was suppressing something. Her face grew redder and redder with each passing minute. I took the shirt from her hand and quickly put it on. After I changed into a fresh shirt, we went back to the living room together. "I don't have many years left, Charles. Why couldn't you just live a peaceful life with Scarlett? Why are you always trying to upset me, huh?" Grandma was still blaming me. "Grandma, next time you want to come here, you can call me and I'll come pick you up, okay?" I still did not know how to answer her, so I just decided to change the subject. "No, thanks. You're always so busy. I don't want to inconvenience you. I just want to see if you're treating your wife right." "Grandma, I'm fine," Scarlett chimed in. "Very well then. By the way, don't forget the 60th anniversary party of the Moore Group tomorrow. Charles, I expect you to buy Scarlett a beautiful evening dress for the party. I want everyone to see how lucky you are to land someone like her. Don't you make me unhappy again, you hear me, young man?" "Of course, Grandma." After chatting with my grandma and my mom for a long time, I was finally able to convince them to call it a night and saw them off. Under the circumstances, there was no way I could mention the divorce to them without unleashing an uproar. #Chapter4 A Greedy Man Scarlett's POV: After I said goodbye to Charles and Rita at Rainbow Dream, Charles's mother, Alice, called me. She told me that she and Christine--Charles' grandmother were coming to see us. It had been a long time since I last saw them. I was so excited by Alice's call that I practically screamed my agreement at her over the phone. I could not wait to see them both, especially Grandma Christine. I had missed her and her delicious apple pies. They had always been very kind to me and made me feel like I was family. If they found out that Charles and I were planning to get divorced, they would be heartbroken. So Charles and I tried our best and acted like a normal loving married couple until Alice and Christine decided to go home. It just was not the right time to tell them. We had to be really careful as well because Christine was unusually perceptive. She could find there was something wrong with us if we were not careful enough. I was not expecting Charles home, but as soon as I saw him, I acted like a caring wife to him. I honestly thought I deserved an Oscar Award for my performance. Thinking about how Grandma Christine scolded Charles earlier like he was a naughty, restless little boy, I had to bite down my laughter. "What's so funny?" "What? Nothing," I mumbled. I needed to find a place in the house to be alone for a while. Since Charles and I talked about the divorce, I had been finding it a little difficult to stay in the same room as he was. "Where are you going?" "The kitchen." "Can you run me a bath, please?" Charles ordered with a cold face. "Okay." I turned on my heels and went upstairs to the bathroom. I stared at the huge white porcelain double bathtub and realized that I had never used it. Suddenly, I was imagining Charles inside it. Stop! I told myself to stop with the inappropriate thoughts about Charles! I shook my head and turned on the tap. After adjusting the water temperature, I waited for the bathtub to fill up. I sat on the edge of the bathtub and thought about the dinner party tomorrow night. Shall I go with Charles? If I were being honest, going with Charles to the party would make me a little uncomfortable, but I had not seen or spoken to his family in a long time. I would really like to see Alice and Grandma Christine again and also Lawrence. I had known them since I was a little girl, and I truly think of them as my family. While I was immersed in my reverie, the bathroom door suddenly swung open. I instinctively turned around to look, but I was not able to retain my balance. Next thing I knew, I was falling into the bathtub. Fortunately, the bathtub was almost full. It was so big that I felt as if I had fallen into a swimming pool. Scared to death that I was going to down, I flailed around instinctively. Then, I remembered that I was in a bathtub and stopped. The bathroom suddenly fell eerily silent except for the sound of running water from the tap. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry," I quickly got out of the bathtub. I scattered water everywhere as I stepped out. "Why are you apologizing?" Charles frowned and looked at me. I tried to wring some of the water out of my shirt, but I just felt like I was venting my frustration. Why did I have to sit on the edge of the bathtub? I could have just stood there as I waited for it to fill up. "I'll change the water." I quickly turned off the tap and opened the bathtub's drain. "No, I got it. You go change." Charles coughed, threw me his bath towel, and turned around. I wrapped the towel around my body and ran to my room to change into clean, dry clothes. After changing into fresh clothes, I grabbed another bath towel for Charles to use and went back to the bathroom. I found Charles standing there. From where I stood, I only saw one side of his body. He was not that heavily muscled, but he was taut and slender. He looked like a well-chiseled statue of a male Roman deity, and it made me catch my breath. I wanted to turn around and leave, but my eyes seemed to have a mind of their own. I could not help staring him down. Charles suddenly turned to look at me. Then, he started walking toward me. My eyes darted to the scar on his body. I looked at it carefully. Since when did he have that scar? "May I have my towel, please?" I had no idea how long I had been staring. If it were not for Charles's question, I would not have woken up from my fixation on his scar. "Oh. Yes. I'm sorry," I muttered. I lowered my head and handed the towel to him with both hands. After that, I rushed out of the bathroom. Before long, Charles's phone started ringing again, and Rita's name appeared on the screen. The sudden pang of pain startled me so much that I found myself clutching the sheets. I sat there, thinking about how my own husband never really belonged to me. After a while, Charles walked out of the bathroom in a bathrobe. He was drying his hair with a towel. He looked so charming. But I told myself to look away. "Rita called you just now," I told him. He just nodded and quickly picked up his phone. He glanced at me and then went to the balcony to call Rita. I could hear some of their conversation from where I was sitting. "Okay. Now don't cry. Drink some water first. I'll call Jenny and ask her to come over to your place. You need to get plenty of rest." I scoffed. Rita's performance would be insufferable even if it were in a movie. I did not understand why she had to torment everyone in real life as well, especially Charles. After hanging up with Rita, Charles came back in, walked to the wardrobe, and changed into a charcoal black suit. At this moment, I was no longer in the mood to watch him. The more I saw of him, the more heartache I had to endure. "I'm going out. Don't wait up for me. Call me if there's anything urgent," Charles told me as if he was reading off a manual. "Don't drive after drinking." Even if it broke my heart to think that he was running off to Rita, I still cared about his safety. I did not want him to get hurt. Charles appeared to be stunned. "I'll call the driver over." Then, he made a phone call. Not long after, a car arrived at the villa. From Charles's POV: I got in the car and was about to go to Rita's place, but the disappointment in Scarlett's eyes bothered