Chapter 117: There’s nothing to admit.
Charles stepped out of the restaurant, his jaw clenched and a deep frown etched onto his face.
Earlier that morning, Augustine’s mother had shown up unannounced, her presence as unwelcome as the cheque she slid across the table.
With a cold, practiced smile, she had told him—again—to "consider leaving Augustine."
As if he were some disposable nuisance.
By now, Charles saw Augustine’s mother’s behavior as nothing more than a daily routine.
He no longer felt a shred of fear when she approached him.
In fact, before Mrs. Wales even parted her lips, Charles already knew exactly what she was going to say.
The same threats. The same bribes. The same desperate attempt to make him disappear.
’It’s always the same old shit!’ Charles seethed through clenched teeth, his gaze drifting to the star-studded night sky, where a half-moon hung like a silent observer to his frustration.
After Charles encounter with Mrs. Wales, he had chosen to spend the entire day at the restaurant, keeping himself busy so as to drown out the lingering irritation that her words had left behind.
Charles had approached the restaurant manager, requesting to stay the entire day in exchange for a day off in two days from now.
She agreed without hesitation—one of her employees had called in sick, and she needed an extra set of hands.
It was a win-win situation.
"Do you always have to go home late?"
The familiar voice of a young lady suddenly uttered from behind Charles and without having to pull his gaze away from the sky, he was already aware of the owner of the voice.
A small smirk tugged at Charles’s lips as he kept his gaze fixed on the starry sky. "Do you always have to sneak up on me?" he retorted.
The young lady chuckled, stepping beside him. "It’s not sneaking if you’re always lost in thought."
She crossed her arms. "So? What’s keeping you out this late again?"
Sigh!
Charles sighed as he forcefully gulped down his saliva. "I am truly exhausted," he mumbled, and ever so slowly, he turned around, shifting his gaze to Freda. "Do you work around here? I always see you at night," Charles remarked, prompting Freda to let out a loud chuckle.
"I’m just coming back from a school reunion," she whispered, her shoulders slumping in exhaustion.
Charles arched a brow at her. "How was it?" He questioned genuinely.
"It was nice," Freda mumbled with a forced smile attached to her lips.
"Are you sure that it was truly nice?"
She sighs.
"If I’m being honest, it was exhausting," Freda admitted, her tone flat. "Someone from my school found out I work as a cleaner, and before I knew it, the whole room was laughing at me."
She let out a forced chuckle, but Charles could see the hurt lingering in her eyes. "It was a nightmare... but at least it’s over."
Charles nudged Freda shoulder lightly before crossing his arms over his chest. "School reunions are pointless. That’s why I never bother showing up."
Freda let out a dry chuckle, shaking her head as she stepped toward the roadside.
Lifting her hand, she hailed a cab, her exhaustion evident in the way her shoulders slumped.
Soon a black cab pulled over and Freda slide over to the back seat as she gave the driver her address.
Just as the cab was about to drive away, Charles suddenly questioned Freda.
"Can I tag alone?"
She scoffed, nodding as she pulled open the door for Charles to slide into the passenger seat.
Once they were both settled, the driver started the engine, and for a few minutes, silence filled the car, the only sound being the steady hum of the vehicle as it moved through the quiet streets.
"What’s on your mind, Charles?" Freda asked, noticing the distant look in his eyes.
Charles let out a slow exhale. "The person I live with now... claims to love me." He paused, his fingers tightening around his bag strap. "But I don’t feel the same." He explained, making sure that he hides the fact that he lives with a man.
Freda arched a brow, glancing at Charles with curiosity. "She loves you, but you don’t love her?"
Charles nodded, exhaling sharply as he stared out the window. "Yeah... and now it’s making things complicated."
Freda hummed in thought, tapping her fingers against her thigh. "Sounds messy. Are you sure you don’t love her? Or are you just scared to admit it?"
Charles let out a dry chuckle. "Trust me, there’s nothing to admit."
Freda’s lips curved into a circle. "Ohh," she purred before biting into her lips.
She didn’t utter any more words out of her mouth until she arrived at her destination.
As Freda stepped out of the cab, she leaned through the open window, her voice dropping to a gentle whisper. "I hope you figure things out."
With that, she straightened up, offered a small smile, and walked away into the night.
’Pfft!’
Charles gave the cab driver his address, and upon arriving at Augustine’s mansion, he stepped out, paid the fare for the entire ride, and made his way inside.
As Charles pushed open the door to the living room, his gaze immediately landed on Augustine, who was pacing back and forth, his expression tense and unreadable.
"Charles!" Augustine exclaimed the moment his eyes landed on him. His voice was laced with frustration and relief.
"Why haven’t you been answering my calls? Why didn’t you reply to my texts?" He demanded, closing the distance between them in quick strides.
Without hesitation, he placed his hands firmly on Charles’s shoulders, his grip both desperate and possessive, his gaze searching Charles’s face for answers.
Charles jerked his shoulders, forcefully shrugging off Augustine’s touch. "Don’t touch me!" he snapped, his voice sharp and cold.
Augustine’s expression faltered, confusion flickering in his eyes. "What... Why?" he asked, his voice stumbling over the words as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
Charles ignored Augustine completely, heading straight to the refrigerator and grabbing a bottle of water.
"Wai... wait, Charles, is this about me saying I love you?" Augustine’s voice wavered with uncertainty.
Charles scoffed, rolling his eyes before turning on his heels and making his way toward the stairs without a word.
With hasten steps, Augustine rushed over to Charles, grabbing his wrist so that Charles would turn around to look at him.
Augustine tightened his grip on Charles’s wrist, his desperation evident. "Charles, talk to me," he pleaded.
Charles yanked his arm free, his glare sharp as a blade. "I have nothing to say to you," he spat, his voice laced with venom.
"Did... did I do something wrong, Charles?" Augustine asked, but the words that followed shattered his world completely.