Chapter 205 Call Me Frederick!
Charlotte's lips curved slightly. "What do you want me to ask?" she teased.
Frederick stared at her faint smile, a rare sight. He didn't press further, just leaned back and watched her, his voice a bit hoarse. "This was an old job. I haven't seen her!"
Charlotte just responded with a soft "hmm."
Frederick kept looking at her, waiting for something that never came. He couldn't figure out what reaction he wanted—anger, a fight, anything but this lukewarm attitude.
His mood sank, partly because of Uma's passing and partly because of Charlotte's indifference. He rarely felt this agitated but reminded himself to stay calm.
He wanted a fresh start with her, so he put more thought into it than before.
In the villa's master bedroom, Charlotte had her own walk-in closet. Frederick had stocked it with clothes she liked, even some identical to her old ones. He also set up a study for her, knowing she liked to bring work home.
Charlotte noticed Frederick's thoughtful gestures. Though she didn't respond, she was willing to coexist peacefully. When he was in a bad mood, she'd tolerate him, like when he insisted on watching a movie in the home theater after dinner.
Charlotte closed her files. As she stood up, Frederick naturally took her fingertips. That light touch felt more intimate than all their past moments.
Frederick rarely showed such tenderness; he usually vented in bed. Charlotte was visibly startled and looked up at him. Frederick gently pulled her over, lightly holding her shoulder. "I put on a horror movie and turned off the lights. You'll definitely be scared!"
Charlotte smiled faintly. "Really? Is it that scary?"
Frederick loved seeing her smile. He gently brushed her cheek, his voice low and hoarse. "You look so beautiful when you smile!"
Charlotte felt uneasy. "Aren't we going to watch the movie?"
Frederick chuckled, took her hand, and led her downstairs.
The home theater was quite large, about 1,000 square feet, with sunken sofas in front of a giant curved screen. In the dim light, he led her to sit down.
He had put on an old classic film. Calling it a horror movie was a stretch; it was more of a romance.
Frederick watched with great interest. Charlotte turned to look at him. In the darkness, he noticed immediately. "What's wrong?"
He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, gently stroking her ring finger. This made Charlotte stiffen.
In the darkness, he chuckled lightly. "Are you scared?"
Charlotte quickly denied it. "No!"
Frederick chuckled again, gently pulling her into his arms and stroking her cheek. "Is the movie good?"
"It's okay."
Frederick didn't ask further; he lowered his head and kissed her. Charlotte was startled, her fingers lightly gripping his arm, but she didn't push him away.
The movie was at a steamy scene, with perfect sound and atmosphere. Frederick was turned on, whispering in her ear, "Do you want to...?"
Charlotte leaned on his shoulder. In the dim light, her expression was overly calm, but she didn't want Frederick to see it. She whispered, "Not here."
Frederick's fingers threaded through her hair, gently stroking her long locks. He could tell if she was aroused or not.
So he asked, "You really don't like it here? It's so dark. I thought you'd like it. We won't see each other's face."
The air grew tense. Frederick thought, 'We need more time. I want her for a lifetime.' But her coldness made him anxious.
Everything happened naturally. Charlotte didn't refuse, but she didn't respond much either. Occasionally, when he did well, she let out a soft gasp, which encouraged him.
He lost control.
After one round in the theater, he carried her back to the master bedroom, wanting to see her under the light. Charlotte wrapped her arms around his neck. "Mr. Hawkins, turn off the light!"
But he wanted to admire her. Her fair skin, the fine blue vein at the end of her brow—it all tempted him. He kissed that spot, deeply moved. "Call me Frederick."
Charlotte met his gaze. She remembered calling his name in bed once before their breakup, but she didn't want to now. 'Frederick. A name I couldn't bring myself to say in bed anymore.' she mused.
She stayed silent for a long time, long enough for the passionate sweat to cool. A trace of disappointment flashed in his eyes. Charlotte gently stroked his brows and eyes, her red lips parting. "Mr. Hawkins, aren't we doing well now?"
Without expectations, they wouldn't argue. When he went to Novaria, she knew but didn't care. Whether he saw Katherine, reminisced, or talked, she didn't care.
Having gone through all that, Charlotte just wanted to love herself well.
In the end, the intimacy couldn't continue. Frederick wasn't satisfied with this kind of relationship. He wanted Charlotte to respond, to show she still cared.
Charlotte gave him kindness but no chance. He moved off her, turned to the side, and panted lightly.
Charlotte knew he was unhappy but didn't want to comfort him. She got out of bed and went to shower.
Halfway through, Frederick came in, his gaze deep through the mist. Charlotte was willing to talk.
She wrapped herself in a towel, speaking softly, "Mr. Hawkins, you're a successful lawyer and a shrewd businessman. You should know when to cut losses. You've always wanted me, and now I'm here, but you're not happy. If this relationship makes you uncomfortable, why not end it?"
She didn't want to deceive him. At least for now, she had no intention of spending her life with him. She had never thought of revenge either. Between them, it was best to part amicably.
Charlotte smiled slightly, speaking softly, "I can't give you what you want."
He had once said this to her. Now it was her turn. Her voice was light, but it struck his heart like a hammer, causing him immense pain.
Frederick gently closed his eyes. His voice was low and hoarse. "Charlotte, the fact that you're willing to say this to me means you still care."
Charlotte didn't respond. In truth, neither of them was having an easy time.
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