“Good… evening?” she greeted, still not meeting his eyes.
Plastered on Christian’s face was a scornful look as his eyes scanned her. She was wearing black leggings and a sleeveless top. How could she leave the house dressed like that? He noticed her rubbing her shoulder as they walked out, and without a word, he took off his coat, stepped towards her, and draped it around her shoulders.
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“Are you okay?” he asked softly after covering her, his worried expression catching her eye.
“I… I am…” she stammered.
“What were you saying over the text?” he asked before she could finish her sentence, his gaze turning to Clinton with a question.
“It was the maid, my lord!” Clinton quickly replied.
“The doctor’s report?” Christian inquired.
“Has been sent, sir,” Clinton replied.
Christian didn’t say anything else and simply opened the front door of the car, gesturing for Clarisse to enter. She hesitated at first, but seeing his stern face, getting on his nerves was the last thing she wanted to do, so she entered obediently. Christian extended his hand towards the driver for the car key.
Cyrus quickly realized that Christian wanted to drive himself, so he handed him the key and stepped aside. He stood next to Clinton and watched him drive off.
“I guess I’ll be going back with you,” he said to the chief maid, adjusting his black suit.
“You’re welcome,” Clinton replied, and they both went back into the hospital.
The drive was long and silent. Christian didn’t say anything, and it was difficult for Clarisse to guess what he was thinking, making her more nervous. She never thought there would come a day when she’d prefer him to say anything to her, even if it was something unpleasant, just so the silence would break. His silence kept making her feel uneasy, but at the same time, she was relieved. She just wanted to go home and get out of his sight. However, after a few minutes, they pulled over in front of a restaurant.
“Why are we here?” she wondered in her mind as she saw him get out of the car. Maybe he wants to get something? she thought, until he glanced at her when she wasn’t getting out. He immediately knew what to do, and she got out quickly, following him into the restaurant quietly.
It was a large and beautiful restaurant. The lighting wasn’t too bright, but bright enough to showcase the beauty and tidiness of the place. The tables were covered with white tablecloths designed with floral patterns and love motifs. No cutlery was placed on the tables. Despite the beauty and cleanliness, every single seat was vacant. She wondered why no one was coming in or out of the place. If not for food, at least people should come to feast their eyes on its elegance.
Christian pulled out a chair for her before she could, and that made her uncomfortable. She couldn’t understand why this gentlemanly gesture felt so strange. She awkwardly bowed her head, thanking him, and he took his seat after.
“What… are we doing here?” she asked, looking around.
“Let’s get you something to eat. It’s late, and I doubt you’ve had anything yet.”
“Oh, no, I’m fine,” she said, but her stomach betrayed her, growling loudly.
“Guess your stomach isn’t in agreement with your mouth,” Christian teased lightly.
Christian raised his hand to get the waiter’s attention while Clarisse bit her lips in embarrassment.
“Are you okay?” he asked after placing the orders. “Were you hurt?”
“No, no, I wasn’t… it was… I’m sorry,” she said, feeling guilty.
“What are you sorry about?”
She couldn’t answer. She was worried about what people might think-whether they would say she mistreated her maid or overworked her. She was apologizing because of that, but when he asked her what she was sorry for, she couldn’t tell him the truth. She couldn’t explain it was because of what others might think.
“Never apologize when you can’t say what you did wrong,” he said, his tone unambiguous.
She looked up at him, her eyes teary, but her mind was filled with anger. Who are you to tell me that? she thought, feeling frustrated.
“You did nothing wrong,” Christian continued. “Stop apologizing to anyone, not until your fault is clearly stated. You did nothing wrong.”
You did nothing wrong. The words echoed in her mind. I did nothing wrong. Yes, I did nothing wrong. They treated me that way, took everything away from me, and I apologized, I begged, I cried, but it was all taken away, even when I did nothing wrong, she thought, and a tear fell. With the back of her hand, she quickly wiped it away.
“Why?” she asked, her voice shaking.
“Huh?”
“Why did you say that? Why are you doing all this? Don’t tell me it’s because it’s me. Why are you acting like you care when you’re going back to her?”
“To who?” he asked, looking confused.
“Please, don’t. You know what I’m talking about. I saw you,” she admitted reluctantly, but it pained her to say it. She hated the way her heart ached as the words left her mouth. Christian, however, remained unaware.
“You saw me?”
She nodded slowly. “Holding her hand. Alice.” She hated even saying her name, but what happened next was completely unexpected. Christian burst into laughter. She raised her brow. Like seriously? Is… he laughing?
Just then, the waiter came forward to place their meals on the table, but Clarisse’s attention was elsewhere. She was angry-so angry.
Christian, still chuckling, dismissed the waiter with a wave and turned to her. “I’m not laughing at you, but… are you jealous?”
“No,” she replied bluntly.
“Is that why you went to hide? Because you saw me holding her hand?”
“No,” she said again, just as bluntly.
Christian smiled. “I wasn’t holding her hand, Ari. She took my hand, and you must have seen that. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding, but I’d never have anything to do with your sister or any other woman. I’m not a scumbag.”
She didn’t believe anything he said. If anything, she was expecting him to deny it or come up with some excuse. She was never going to trust him-or anyone, for that matter.
“Okay,” she answered, not looking at him. She didn’t say whether she believed him or ask why she should.
He could tell that she didn’t believe him, but he understood. After everything, the hardest thing was trusting again.
He knew he needed to spend more time with her, help her feel more comfortable, and slowly earn her trust. As he thought about this, an idea came to his mind.
He smiled and took his fork to start eating, and she did the same, but he paused and looked at her.
“Let’s go on a date,” he said.
She nearly choked.
“Huh?”
“Go on a date with me.”
“Go on a date with me,” he repeated. Her eyes widened in disbelief, as if he had completely lost his mind.
A date? With him?
Christian was the most unpredictable man, always leaving her speechless and confused.
The only word that managed to escape her lips was, “Why?”
“I want to spend more time with my wife and get to know her better. Is there supposed to be any other reason?” he replied, resuming his meal.
The rest of the dinner was silent. She ate extremely carefully, making sure not to chew too loudly, trying not to annoy him or make him uncomfortable. She didn’t eat too much either, as Patricia had always warned her that finishing her plate would lead to trouble-she’d be called a thief, and worse, she’d get beaten for it. The habit of being cautious while eating had been ingrained in her.
After the meal, Christian stretched his hand toward her, asking for her phone number.
“Your pin,” he said, handing her his phone, but she didn’t take it.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Your cell number,” he replied.
“I don’t have one.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.