Chapter 3
The next morning, I woke up wrapped in a heavy, comforting embrace.
A warm chest was pressed against me, an arm holding me close, and I could feel something hard pressing against my back.
Charles, after getting slapped by me, scrambled up with his face burning red, pissed off, and stormed out of the room.
After I finished washing up, I spotted him downstairs on the couch, clutching his phone and typing away like crazy. I bet he was complaining about me to someone.
Charles, the group owner, had changed the group name from [Eat, Sleep, and Chill] to [I Want a Divorce.]
Charles: [I'm so pissed off. Sooner or later, I'm getting a divorce.
[Donna's the kind of woman who uses you and tosses you aside. She actually slapped me.
[If I didn't have a rule against hitting women, I'd teach her a lesson.]
The group chat was full of good vibes. People were sharing vacation pics, complaining about their eyelashes poking their eyes, and showing off their cats doing backflips.
All the goofy messages quickly buried his rant.
As Charles was about to put his phone down, someone suddenly @-ed him in the group chat.
Sophie: [Whoa, did you actually enjoy getting slapped? Donna's like a goddess. I can't believe she lowered herself to smack you.]
Chandler: [Donna's always been a good girl. Did she really hit you? What did you do to make everyone so mad at you, Charles?]
Mario: [It was your wedding night yesterday, right? Do you think maybe something happened...] And he threw in a winking emoji for good measure.
Charles furrowed his brow, heard me coming down the stairs, shot me a glance, and turned his phone screen away from me.
Charles: [What are you guys thinking? Do you really think she could touch me? I left her to sleep alone in a cold bed last night.]
Sophie, Chandler & Mario: [Wow, Charles, you're so cool.]
Then everyone started copy-pasting the same thing, and honestly, people couldn't tell if they were actually praising him or being sarcastic.
Sophie: [Seriously? Did she kick you out of the bedroom or something?]
Everyone started hitting like on that, totally on board.
Yancy: [Yeah, that's what I think. Donna's totally into the soft, gentle types. Charles, you're not her flavor.]
Sophie: [I heard Donna was the dream girl for half the guys at school. Honestly, I totally shipped her and David.]
Charles went stone-faced when he saw those two messages. Without saying a word, he blocked both of them and booted them from the group.
Charles: [What are you talking about? She literally grabbed my chest yesterday. Clearly, she can't resist me. She's obviously into me.]
[Alright, best wishes for a lifetime together.]
[Wish you were together forever.]
[Hope you are happy.]
Sophie: [Charles, you jerk. Did you kick me out and block me? I'm totally telling Donna on you.]
Someone dragged Sophie Lane into the group, and she went off on him the second she got in. But Charles was fast. He kicked her out again before she could finish her rant
'Well, that definitely cheered me up,' Charles thought.
Charles set his phone down, glanced toward the kitchen, and got up to head in.
I was in the kitchen, trying to cook. I'd woken up hungry and figured I'd whip something up.
It was too bad that I had no idea what I was doing.
Staring at the burnt eggs in the pan, I paused, and it hit me. So I scooped them onto a plate, planning to feed the dog later.
"Donna, have you ever seen anything people can actually eat?" Charles's husky, slightly disgusted voice came from behind me.
He was slouched against the fridge, one leg holding him up, mocking me mercilessly.
"I'm feeding the dog with it," I said.
When I ignored him, he muttered under his breath, then walked over and grabbed the apron hanging by the cabinet, slipping it on, "Let me do it. If you keep cooking, we'll need a new kitchen."
He took the spatula like a pro, then grabbed some pasta, veggies, and eggs from the fridge. It looked like he was about to whip up some pasta.
I didn't stop him.
Honestly, a guy who could cook was always a win in my book.
I figured I'd let him have his moment to shine.
He hadn't changed out of his pajamas yet, his top hanging open and showing off half his chest.
The apron was clearly made for women, way too small for him. It clung so tight that his chest muscles were practically popping out.