Chapter 4

For the next few days, he was giving me the silent treatment on purpose—didn't come home, didn't call, nothing.

Of course, since I'd blocked him on WhatsApp, I didn't get any messages from him, either.

I spent those days just sorting out my plans for the overseas program.

One day after work, I walked out of the office and saw his car parked by the curb.

The car window slid down, and his gruff voice beckoned, "Get in."

Taken aback, I opened the door and plopped into the passenger seat.

"I should've given you a heads-up about what happened the other day. Next time, I'll run it by you first," he said.

Just like that, he tried to sweep the whole mess from the past few days under the rug with one casual line.

I honestly didn't expect Charles to even bring it up.

His expression was tense, like just showing up to talk to me was already him bending over backwards.

I gave a faint smile and shook my head. "Don't bother explaining. It doesn't matter anymore."

His brows knitted together, and he shot me a frosty look.

"Olivia—" he said, his voice coming out cold and clipped.

"Emily's your problem now. However you handle things, I'm not getting involved anymore," I interrupted, keeping my voice steady.

I was done caring about whatever went on between them.

But Charles got the wrong idea. His face relaxed, and he started the engine, his voice taking on a soothing tone.

"Glad you get it. We're the ones building a life together. If you want to be my wife, you gotta trust me," he said.

With one hand on the wheel, Charles merged onto the main road, talking as if everything was perfectly normal.

"Olivia, we've both been swamped lately, but we've finally got some free time today. Let's go buy our wedding jewelry and whatever else you want—just pick whatever catches your eye," he said.

I was looking down, reviewing some documents on my phone.

Hearing what he said, I looked up in confusion. "We're still picking out jewelry?" I blurted.

The car jolted a little as he stepped on the brake.

Charles looked at me, puzzled. "Olivia, didn't you ask me to go pick out jewelry with you last time?" he said.

I stayed silent, an icy stillness settling over me.

Indeed, before our honeymoon, I kept asking him over and over to come with me to pick out jewelry, but he'd just get annoyed and say, "Just pick whatever you want and put it on my card."

He was just brushing me off.

Picking out jewelry was supposed to be about both of us dreaming about a beautiful future together.

Back then, I would've been over the moon.

But now, I set my phone down, pressed my lips together, and said, "Let's put this on hold for now."

I'd already called off the wedding, but I didn't want things to get messy between us. So I decided to use the overseas program as an excuse to stall, and then slowly work my way toward breaking things off.

But the moment I said no, I saw Charles' expression turn stormy—he clearly wasn't expecting that.

He pulled over to the side of the road, turned to look at me, his voice cold as ice. "Olivia, you don't want to pick out rings anymore?"

Just then, my boss pinged me. I glanced down at my phone, half-distracted, and mumbled a noncommittal reply, "I'm swamped lately, no time for this.

"Just drop me here. I gotta head back to the office and pull a late one."

Then, I reached for the door handle, but the door was still locked tight.

An awkward silence hung in the air, heavier than before.

Turning to face him, I saw his stormy expression.

After what seemed an eternity, he turned the wheel and drove me back to work.

As I opened the door to leave, I heard him mutter, "If you're too tied up, I'll take Emily to check some out."

"Whatever," I replied, not really caring, and walked off, leaving him with a determined back.