Chapter 2
I met Charles at a friend's party.
At that time, he was young, and I was the only one in his eyes.
He pursued me openly and relentlessly. Even when I didn't seem to care, he never gave up.
His parents objected to us being together because I was from an ordinary family.
But he outright rebelled against his family, saying he would only marry me.
In the end, he even threatened his parents with his life, saying that if they didn't accept me, he wouldn't go on living.
His parents were forced to compromise, and we finally got married.
In the early days of our marriage, he really did have me in his heart.
When I casually said that I wanted to try the ice cream from an old shop in the south of the city, he asked the driver to drive a long way to buy it back the next day.
When I was flipping through an art book at home out of boredom, and he noticed I liked the color palette of one painting, he quietly ordered an original from the same series and had it hung in my room.
When he attended the family party, he always claimed in front of everyone that I was the only woman he wanted to bring home.
But soon enough, rumors of him fooling around with other women started surfacing.
Photos of him with different women, and videos of him holding hands with them in a club, would hit the trending list every few days.
I'd gotten mad and cried, but to no avail.
One day, I went to deliver his coat and overheard him talking with his friends.
One of them said, "Charles, you've got someone new again? That model's gotten quite a rack."
Charles smiled lazily, his tone full of smugness. "Of course. Where's the fun otherwise? Different women, different pleasure."
Another man asked, "Where is the one in your house? She's not mad at it?"
Charles laughed, as if he were saying something insignificant. "Ailany? She's very sensible and obedient."
"You're okay with her taking care of the household?"
Charles replied casually, "She's not in charge. She has no one else but me. She's got nothing without me, so she won't make a scene, and she won't dare leave."
His friends laughed heartily. "What if one day she finds out about everything you've got going on outside? You don't think she'll lose it?"
Charles raised his eyebrows carelessly. "So, what if she knows? With her personality, she'll make a fuss for a bit and then get over it. Best case, I'll just suck it up. It's not like she can do anything to me anyway."
His friend asked again, "Aren't you afraid that one day she'll cross someone tough and finally snap on you?"
Charles smiled even more ruthlessly. "Seriously? She wouldn't stand a chance."
From that day on, he slept with any woman he wanted, no matter who.
One day it was this model, the next that young actress. His news changed faster than his clothes.
What's more, a pregnant woman came to me, begging me for a divorce.
She said she was carrying Charles's baby.
I stood there without saying a word, waiting for Charles's reaction.
And he stood by and watched quietly, watching how I would handle these things.
He didn't step in to protect me or offer any explanation. He just watched from the sidelines, as if it were a drama that had nothing to do with him.
And it started happening more and more.
I gradually realized that his love had run out shortly after we got married, and all that was left was his possession and use of me.
The marriage he had bought with his life turned out to be an excuse for him to indulge in.
After I came back from the club, I learned my lesson and stopped arguing with him or asking questions.
No matter how many tidbits there were, no matter how many women came to my door, I quietly let my assistant handle it.
I thought he would restrain himself, or at least had some regard for appearances.
But he was getting more and more excessive.
This time, the model was someone who had once led the bullying against me in school. Her name was Rachel Linwood.
She relied on her family background and appearance to isolate me, throw water on me, and lock me in the equipment room for hours at school.
When I came home from school that day, in a secluded alley, she brought a few girls to stop me, pushed me against the wall, and said I didn't know my place, that I wasn't good enough for Charles.
They were mean and pushed me.
All the books in my schoolbag were dumped on the ground.
I struggled desperately, but there were so many of them that I had no way to fight back.
Someone pulled my hair and pinned me against the wall.
They pulled at my jacket and even took out their phones, ready to take pictures, while saying to spread these photos so that everyone could enjoy the show.
They held my arms, preventing me from breaking free, and their laughter was full of malice.
Just then, Charles happened to be passing by, saw me surrounded, and immediately stepped forward to stand in front of me and stop them.
Rachel refused to give up and called in the gangsters nearby, saying she wanted me to suffer.
The gangsters rushed over, but Charles didn't back down.
He protected me behind him and was punched hard by them. He was beaten all over, bleeding from the corners of his mouth, and his clothes were torn.
After he stood up straight, he looked at me and smiled, "It's okay. I'm fine. Don't be afraid."
I was stunned. He was covered with injuries, but still tried to comfort me, telling me that as long as I wasn't shaken up, that was all that mattered.
Later, his parents learned of the incident and used their connections to send the gangsters to prison.
Rachel's parents also called in favors to sweep their daughter's actions under the rug.
When the police investigated, there was no direct evidence to prove that Rachel had directed those gangsters, so she was not prosecuted.
When Charles found out, he only said, "Since the police have no evidence, forget it."
He turned to look at me, his tone calm but stubborn. "As long as you are well, I am willing to let it go."
That time, he was injured and punished by his parents, but he still put my safety first.
He protected me in his own way, even if the price was to suffer. He didn't want me to be dragged into the mess again.
For the first time, I saw a desperate care in his eyes, that kind of affectionate firmness that made me think that his heart had not completely cooled during those days when I was left out.