Chapter 184 Charlotte, I'd rather you hate me
Early in the morning, Charlotte took her little white dog for a walk.
In the early summer, she wore a white tracksuit, showing off her fair legs, which caught some attention.
At least, when Frederick saw her, he couldn't help but stare.
He got out of the car, eyes intense. "Walking the dog, huh?"
Charlotte walked past him, leading the dog toward the lake.
The dog barked at him a few times.
Frederick lit a cigarette and followed her.
Charlotte ignored him.
She walked the dog for an hour, had breakfast, and picked up some bread and milk on her way back.
As she was going upstairs, Frederick grabbed her wrist. "Are you with him?"
Charlotte was startled but then understood. He had seen them last night and had been following her!
Her face turned cold. "Mr. Hawkins, we broke up! Who I'm with is none of your business!"
She shook off his hand and quickly entered her apartment.
Closing the door, she leaned against it.
Every time she saw Frederick, her heart still ached. She couldn't stay indifferent, but she didn't want to continue this!
What did he think he was doing by pestering her?
Charlotte had thought about moving, but then decided she had done nothing wrong, so why should she avoid him?
That night, Charlotte turned down Oliver, but he didn't give up.
He was smart. He didn't push too hard!
He showed up four or five times a month, either having a meal at her place or bringing health supplements for Maria. Over time, everyone in the city knew Oliver liked her and was pursuing her!
That night, Oliver ran into Charlotte again.
Persistent, he managed to get a meal at her small apartment. But he left by nine o'clock. He stayed just on the edge of her tolerance, so Charlotte had no reason to refuse him.
Charlotte saw him downstairs.
Oliver got into his car, and she hesitated but said nothing.
Oliver laughed.
His smile was youthful and charming, the kind that any girl would like, and even Charlotte was momentarily stunned.
Oliver might have noticed this too.
He leaned close to her ear and said, "You can't escape!" Then, he smugly started the car and drove away.
Charlotte stood in the night for a long time.
The night breeze was soothing.
She sat on a bench under a sycamore tree, closing her eyes to feel the breeze on her face.
A tall figure appeared—it was Frederick. His gaze was complicated.
He had seen Oliver smiling at her and Charlotte's dazed expression. Unable to bear it, he gently pinched her chin, kissed her, and slid his tongue inside.
Charlotte was caught off guard!
By the time she opened her eyes, she was already in Frederick's arms. He held her tightly, so tightly that her ribs hurt, and her mouth was filled with his breath.
"Frederick, you're crazy. Let me go!"
Charlotte pushed him with all her might.
But Frederick held her tight, not budging. He pressed her against the tree, their bodies close and rubbing against each other.
He knew her body too well, hitting all the right spots.
He wanted to awaken her memories, desperate to know if she still had feelings for him.
Their bodies rubbed together intensely, as if he wanted to possess her.
Charlotte's eyes turned red, and she slapped him hard. After the slap, her body heaved violently.
Frederick grabbed her chin again and kissed her urgently.
Charlotte stopped struggling.
She let him kiss her, let him vent, until he finally let her go. She turned her face slightly, her eyes wet. "Frederick, don't make me hate you more! Even if there's no Oliver, there will be someone else. I will fall in love and get married. Are you going to follow me for the rest of my life?"
Frederick suddenly stopped.
He rested his forehead against her neck, breathing lightly, his voice hoarse. "Charlotte, I'd rather you hate me! Hate me. At least I still have a place in your heart! But you act like I don't exist. You knew I was downstairs, yet you cooked for him, saw him off, and smiled at him!"
"Charlotte, haven't I moved you yet? Is it so hard to give me a chance? Clearly, you still have feelings for me. When I kiss you and touch you, you still react."
Charlotte's eyes grew wetter.
She gently closed her eyes. "Yes! Frederick, I do have feelings. Isn't that a normal reaction for a mature woman? I can also be turned on by any man who is good in bed. What does that prove?"
Frederick's face turned pale.
Charlotte straightened up, looking at him in the night wind. "Frederick, you were the one who didn't want it! What's the point of saying this now?"
She finished and walked toward the apartment.
After a few steps, she paused. "Don't come again!"
Frederick quietly watched her back. At that moment, he knew she wouldn't turn back. No matter what he did, she wouldn't come back!
"Charlotte," he called her name, feeling dizzy.
For the next half month, Frederick was despondent. Besides going to work, he spent his time drinking at clubs, getting drunk every time.
Patrick tolerated it for half a month before personally bringing Frederick back home.
With a splash, a bucket of ice water poured over him from head to toe!
Frederick instantly sobered up. He wiped his face. "Dad!"
Patrick pointed at him and cursed, "You idiot! Does drinking help? Will getting drunk make her come back? I think Charlotte will despise you even more seeing you like this! Frederick, how did I teach you? If you want something, go fight for it!"
Frederick's face showed no expression.
He was silent for a while.
Then, he lightly adjusted his shirt collar and said calmly, "Dad, I understand!"
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