Chapter 176 Charlotte let go, but he couldn't!
The next day, Charlotte made her way to the apartment, determined to erase any trace of her existence there. She hired workers to reinstall the old curtains and tossed all the vases and ornaments she had bought into the trash.
All her clothes and jewelry, worn or not, were packed up and sent to the auction house.
Everything related to Charlotte was cleared out, including the piano.
By the end of the day, the apartment had no trace of her, like she had never been there.
Finally, Charlotte looked at the little white dog.
Frederick had taken in the stray to please her, but it often went hungry while she was away.
Charlotte took the dog with her.
After over half a year with Frederick, she left behind only the dog. She donated the $5 million he gave her, along with the jewelry, clothes, and piano, to a foundation.
After finishing everything, Charlotte's foot ached slightly, reminding her how ridiculous this loveless relationship was.
Two days later, Frederick was at the office, having just handled a high-profile international case. He was at the peak of his career.
Cherie knocked and came in, handing an envelope to Frederick. "Miss Russell came by yesterday and asked me to give this to you," she said softly.
Frederick took the envelope and pulled out a key. It was the key to his apartment.
He quietly looked at the key and asked, "Have you been there? Did she take the clothes and jewelry? If not, send them to her another day. I have no use for them."
Cherie's expression was complicated.
Frederick looked up. "What's wrong?"
Cherie hesitated. "You'll know when you go back tonight. Anyway, Miss Russell has definitely moved out."
Frederick was puzzled but didn't think much of it.
He worked until ten at night before driving home.
Thinking about the dark apartment with no one waiting for him or cooking for him, he didn't feel like going up.
He sat in the car and smoked a cigarette before heading upstairs.
When Frederick entered and turned on the lights, he was stunned.
He had gotten used to Charlotte's decorations, but now it was back to its original state—cold and perfectly matching his aesthetic, but without any warmth.
Frederick dropped his coat and started searching.
The bedroom, kitchen, living room, even the bathroom. He found nothing that belonged to Charlotte. She had erased every trace of herself.
Frederick stood by the floor-to-ceiling window.
The place was empty, and even the piano was gone.
Frederick suddenly understood Charlotte's intention. She wanted to forget him and wanted him to forget her.
He remembered her saying "never see you again" when she left.
Suddenly, he felt dizzy and his heart ached unbearably.
He took out his phone to call Charlotte, but the phone only gave an automated response, "Sorry, the number you dialed is not reachable."
Frederick looked around, feeling suffocated.
He suddenly threw his phone against the wall, shattering it into pieces.
Then, he started smashing everything in the apartment. He didn't know why, but it felt like destroying these things might bring back some memories, might turn back time.
Late at night, Frederick stood amidst the wreckage.
He pulled out a diamond ring from his pocket, the one he had given Charlotte. It was probably the only thing she had left behind.
Frederick looked at the ring and remembered her joy when she received it and her sadness when she learned the truth. She had said she didn't want it anymore.
His eyes turned red. A strange emotion overwhelmed him, leaving him at a loss.
Frederick thought he could forget Charlotte. And he tried to.
After that day of madness, he had Cherie hire someone to clean up the apartment. He buried himself in work and occasionally went out with Bradley and the others. He never called Charlotte again, nor did he seek out news about her.
No one mentioned Charlotte in front of him. She seemed to have become a taboo.
He mocked himself, wondering why Bradley and the others never brought her up if he really didn't care that much.
Half a month later, Cherie walked into his office with some news. "Mr. Hawkins, the Lumina auction last week involved you."
Frederick paused his signing.
He asked, "What happened?"
Cherie lowered her voice. "They auctioned off a batch of jewelry and haute couture dresses, all of which you had given to Miss Russell. Also, that piano was sold for $6 million at the auction."
Frederick looked at the document.
He asked nonchalantly, "What does Charlotte need so much money for?"
Cherie replied, "Miss Russell donated all the money to a charity foundation."
Frederick snapped the pen in his hand. He said coldly, "She spent over half a year with me and only took a dog?"
Cherie sighed softly. She placed a large envelope on the table. "I picked this up from the apartment mailbox. It's Miss Russell's past spending records, receipts from the bills. Mr. Hawkins, you might understand after looking at it."
Frederick clenched his fist.
After a long while, he opened it.
It was indeed a bill, detailing the Valentine's Day decorations, with several attached photos.
It was beautifully done, in Frederick's favorite black theme.
It was expensive, costing tens of thousands of dollars, and Charlotte had paid for it herself.
Frederick quietly looked at it, his heart suddenly clenched, and the familiar pain overwhelmed him again.
Cherie's voice came. "Charlotte really loved you. Mr. Hawkins, you might not know, but she agreed to go abroad for two years to make it easier for you to deal with Miss Mitchell's situation. You once had the best love. I want to ask, would Miss Mitchell really have died if you didn't go to the hospital? Or did you never let go of your first love?"
Cherie's voice choked slightly. "I said too much."
Frederick still looked at the photo. The photo showed the apartment as it used to be.
He stared at it for a long time, suddenly realizing what he had lost. He had lost Charlotte's love.
Charlotte had asked him twice if he loved her.
He had never directly answered because he only liked her. He liked her body, her care, her cooking, and her company.
But he always knew, Charlotte loved him. Now she had taken back her love, drawn a clear line, and completely exited his life. Charlotte had moved on, but Frederick hadn't.
He sat alone in his office all night. The ashtray was filled with cigarette butts.
At dawn, he called Cherie, his voice hoarse. "Help me find out where that piano is."
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