Chapter 136: I hate myself for falling in love with you.
Augustine watched in silence as Freda slid into the front seat of Reginald’s car, the vehicle’s headlights briefly flashing as it sped down the road, leaving only a trail of dust behind.
The once-bustling Gyapm Corporation Hall was now eerily quiet, the excitement of the event fading into the night.
The only sound that filled the air was the distant hum of the city.
Inside Gyapm Corporation Hall, the security personnel moved with practiced ease, ensuring that everything was in order before locking up for the night.
Augustine sigh.
"My secretary seems to be in love with Freda," Augustine began, his voice carrying a hint of amusement, though his eyes remained focused on the road.
Charles remained silent, his gaze fixed ahead, his arms now tucked into his trouser pockets, the weight of Augustine’s words seemingly lost on him.
Augustine’s eyes briefly flicked to Charles, sensing the change in his posture.
"You smell so nice by the way."
Once more, Augustine had opened his mouth to break the awkward silence that had engulfed him and Charles but despite the words of Augustine Charles remained quiet.
Augustine breathed in.
"Are you hungry? I know a nice restaurant where we can get takeout at this time of night," Augustine suggested, trying to break the silence.
Charles didn’t respond.
Augustine let out a soft sigh and caressed his chin awkwardly, a nervous habit that surfaced whenever he found himself at a loss for words.
"How was your work today? Do you need a massage? I know a great spa that might still be open if we hurry. They give really good massages—"
Before Augustine could finish his sentence, a loud sigh escaped Charles’s lips. "Did you separate me from Freda just to spill all this nonsense to me?" Charles asked, his voice laced with seething rage.
"Umm, would you mind if I take you home?" Augustine asked, trying to break the tension.
Charles didn’t respond.
Instead, he turned on his heel and began to walk down the road, his pace quickening with each step.
Augustine stood still for a moment, watching as Charles distanced himself.
Augustine didn’t chase after Charles. Instead, he rushed to where his car was parked, the engine roaring to life as he accelerated down the road.
He pulled over by the side and called out, "Pookie, hop in."
Charles paused, his eyes narrowing as he glanced over at Augustine’s car.
He scoffed, clearly irritated, before turning and walking away, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the quiet night.
Augustine let out another loud sigh, gripping the steering wheel as he drove his car back toward Charles.
He parked abruptly, rolling down the window and tilting his head out, his voice laced with both frustration and determination.
"Pookie, if you don’t come in, then I’m sorry to say, but I’ll have to force you in by carrying you."
He leaned back in his seat, waiting for Charles’s response, his eyes never leaving the figure walking ahead.
Exhaling!
Charles wanted to be alone, but at the same time, his body ached with exhaustion.
The long hours of standing—from the start of the event to its very end—had drained every ounce of strength he had left.
With a heavy breath, Charles paused for a moment, then opened the front door and silently slid into the car, shutting it behind him without a word.
Augustine smiled and with that, he accelerated the car engine.
After five minutes of heavy silence, Augustine finally spoke, his voice low as he broke through the tension hanging between them.
"Pookie, I know you’re upset about what happened tonight. And honestly, I don’t think there’s anything I can say or do that would make it right... but still, I want you to know—I’m really sorry."
Charles bit into his lower lip, the sharp sting grounding him as tears brimmed in his eyes, blurring his vision.
He turned his face toward the window, watching the night blur past, pretending he hadn’t heard a word Augustine said—pretending the pain didn’t slice deeper with each second of silence.
Once more, Augustine continued his statement, his voice low and laced with guilt. "The fact that I denied you... the fact that I denied us in front of the entire world, proves that I’m a weak partner. Someone who doesn’t—"
"Fuck it, Augustine!" Charles snapped, his voice sharp like a blade cutting through the air.
He whipped his head around from the window, his eyes burning with fury and pain as they locked onto Augustine’s. "Stop the car."
Augustine blinked, startled by the sudden outburst. "Hold on," he mumbled, hands tightening on the wheel, "let me slow down."
"I said stop the car! Stop the fucking car, Augustine! Stoooooop it!" Charles roared, his voice cracking as he slammed his fist hard against the car roof.
Startled, Augustine quickly swerved the vehicle to the side of the road and hit the brakes.
The moment the car stopped, Charles flung the door open and stormed out, his steps unsteady, fueled by rage and heartbreak.
He dragged his hands through his hair in frustration, gripping at the strands as if trying to ground himself.
Then, with a trembling breath, Charles slid his fingers beneath his medicated glasses and wiped the hot tears streaming freely down his cheeks.
Charles chest heaved with emotion as he struggled to breathe past the lump in his throat.
Augustine rushed out of the car, his heart pounding with panic.
He rounded the vehicle and moved straight to Charles, gently placing his hands on Charles trembling shoulders.
"I... I’m sorry, Charles," Augustine murmured, his voice low and filled with remorse.
Charles scoffed, shoving Augustine’s hand off his shoulder. "Sorry?" he repeated bitterly, pulling his fingers from beneath his medicated glasses to wipe away the last of his tears. "Did I just hear you say sorry? What the hell do you..."
His words faltered as he drew in a shaky breath, trying to steady the storm building inside him.
"You hurt me," he continued, his voice cracking. "And now you think saying sorry is enough to fix what you did? So tell me, Augustine... if my face in that picture wasn’t blurred out, would you still have denied me?"
Augustine bit his lower lip, taking a hesitant step back. "Char... Charles, the picture of your face would never..."
"Oh, fuck!" Charles exploded, raking his fingers through his hair in frustration as he stumbled a few steps away. "So now you want to tell me that no one would’ve had the guts to upload my picture with you?" he barked, a bitter scoff escaping his lips as he stared Augustine down, the pain in his eyes slicing through the night air. "Look me in the eyes and say that again."
"Pookie, I am... I am deeply sorry," Augustine apologized, his voice trembling.
"Don’t... don’t fucking call me that!" Charles snapped, his teeth clenched, fists trembling at his sides. "I... I thought I knew you, Augustine. I really did. I thought you were different... I thought—" his voice cracked, "God, how I thought you were different. And I..." he paused, choking on his words as emotion surged up his throat, "I let myself believe in you. I believe... I believe the lies you professed to me and..."
Charles’s words trailed off, tears streaming down his cheeks as he pointed a shaking finger at Augustine. "I hate you, Augustine Wales... and I... I hate myself even more for falling in love with a jerk like you," he spat, his voice thick with pain.
Charles entire body trembled, caught between heartbreak and fury, as the weight of his emotions crushed down on him.