Chapter 204 Your Freedom to Marry
"Daphne," Murphy called out to her.
Her steps faltered, and she looked back. Before she could ask why, Murphy had already spoken, "Why don't you give Charles a ride? It's on your way."
”I…” Daphne tried to refuse.
"There’s no need to bother," Charles interjected, his deep voice steadily speaking, "I'll call my assistant. He'll come pick me up."
"It's no bother," Murphy promptly ordered, "since it’s on her way."
Daphne was silent. She truly did not want to drive Charles.
Her mind raced, and she quickly responded, "I have some other things to take care of before going to the office. He could give me a ride instead."
"When I tell you to drive him, you drive him. I never knew you to be so difficult," Murphy said, clearly displeased, his expression stern, "Today, you will ensure Charles gets to the office safely."
Feeling weary from the pressure and the situation, Daphne relented, "Understood." She glanced sideways at Charles, said a quick goodbye, and then left.
Charles stayed behind for a moment, exchanging a few polite words with Murphy. Daphne could overhear their friendly conversation and suddenly became curious about what they had discussed previously that had made Murphy so quickly regard him as a close acquaintance, calling him Charles with such warmth. She felt there was more to this.
Outside, Daphne got into the driver's seat and started the car. Charles stood next to the passenger-side window and asked, "You're truly going to drive for me?"
"Just get in," Daphne said, not in the mood for small talk.
Charles opened the passenger side door, sat down, and conscientiously fastened his seatbelt.
The car didn't pull away immediately. Daphne stared ahead, but her question was directed at Charles, "What exactly did you talk about with Murphy? And don't try to brush me off with work-related excuses. You and he couldn't possibly have any business together."
"Do you want to know?" Charles turned to look at her.
Daphne didn't reply, but her expression said everything.
"It has to do with you," Charles revealed.
"An arranged marriage?" Daphne inquired with a hint of skepticism.
She wasn't afraid of Charles accusing her of vanity—after all, he had mentioned this several times before.
Charles studied her expression closely.
He knew very well that if he confirmed her suspicions, the calm woman before him would erupt in an argument and look at him as if he were an enemy.
Then, inevitably, their distance would grow even further.
Daphne couldn't read his thoughts and chose not to press further, patiently waiting instead.
"Do you really see me as someone who would force you to do things you dislike?" Charles asked, turning the question around without directly answering.
Daphne had nothing courteous to say to him, "Isn't that exactly what you are?"
He had pressured her into apologizing, pinned things on her she hadn't done, claimed that a decent ex should be out of sight, out of mind, and yet he disturbed her peace repeatedly.
She couldn't trust him. Her words were even-keeled, but to Charles's ears, they weighed heavily on his heart. Daphne didn't wait for his response, starting the car and driving him to the Lancelot Group.
The entire trip was silent, the air thick with unspoken tension.
One was focused on the road, eyes steadfastly ahead, and the other, lost in thought, gazed out the window.
Charles didn't find the atmosphere oppressive; on the contrary, he found it reassuring.
Because Daphne was right beside him. He knew her heart was distant, but to him, just having her within sight was enough.
Over an hour later, Daphne dropped him off at the entrance to the Lancelot Group.
"We're here," she said succinctly.
Charles sat without moving, turning to look at Daphne, his dark eyes seemed unfathomably deep. Stepping out of the car would mean not seeing her anymore.
Daphne, not hearing any movement, thought he might have fallen asleep. She glanced over to call him once more but was caught in his profound gaze.
In that moment, she saw a multitude of emotions hidden in the depths of Charles's eyes, including a touch of desolation.
Though she no longer loved him and had no feelings left, his eyes, turbulent with a mix of emotions, still pricked her heart.
"The Lancelot Group is here," she diverted her gaze, unable to look at him any longer, "You can get out now."
Charles hummed a soft acknowledgment. Then he unbuckled his seatbelt, opened the car door, and stepped out.
Daphne was about to drive off when she noticed he was still standing by the door, his hand holding it open for a long time.
"Murphy won't call you about arranged marriages or finding a partner anymore," Charles said just before she could speak, his voice cool yet resonant, "Your marriage, your choice."
Daphne didn't quite grasp his meaning. Just as she was about to ask, Charles had already closed the car door and walked toward the Lancelot Group's headquarters, leaving her with only his retreating figure.
Daphne glanced in the direction he had gone, then finally started her car and drove away.
As for Charles, as soon as he got back to the office, he sat in his chair, deep in thought. Seeing him return, Mark approached with the contract signed earlier at the Murphy family's residence, handing it over, “Charles.”
“Just put it there,” Charles instructed.
Mark complied.
Charles had intended to go to the lounge for a break but noticed Mark lingering with a hesitant look. ”What’s up?” he asked.
“You and Murphy, does Miss Murphy know about it?” Mark inquired; he had just seen Miss Murphy dropping Charles off.
If the relationship hadn't improved, would Miss Murphy have driven Charles?
“She doesn’t know,” Charles warned him, “And if she asks you, don’t spill the beans.”
“What if Miss Murphy guesses?”
“She won’t guess.”
Charles was certain of it. In Daphne's eyes, he was nothing more than a man with a handsome face and good looks; why would she suspect anything else?
Mark agreed, seeing Charles' conviction. He walked out, closing the door behind him, leaving Charles alone with his thoughts.
Mark had witnessed Charles’ troubled state over the past few days; even though he maintained his professionalism at work without making any mistakes, something about him was visibly off.
Feeling a pang of sympathy, he couldn’t help but think it was a situation Charles had brought upon himself.
Had Charles listened to his advice and wholeheartedly committed to Miss Murphy from the start, they might even have children by now.
Mulling over these thoughts, Mark sighed. He had just returned to his office when his smartphone rang. It was Miss Murphy!
Hesitating, Mark paused, instinctively looking toward the door. After a moment of indecision, he answered the call.
“This is Daphne, is Charles next to you?” She introduced herself preemptively, in case Mark was with Charles when he answered.
As Charles' executive assistant, Mark was practically at his side all the time, except when sleeping.
Mindful of what Charles had cautioned just moments before, Mark replied, “He’s not here, Charles is resting in the next room.”
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