Chapter 11 Endure

This game is becoming more and more interesting. I picked up the medicinal broth and took a sip, elegantly savoring it, only to spit it out in bitterness the next second.

I don't know when Charlie came back, but he was standing at the doorway changing his shoes. When he saw me spraying the medicinal broth, a hint of disgust flashed in his eyes. His tone was cold, "If you can't handle it, then don't drink it."

"Why do you care?" I wiped the corners of my mouth clean and couldn't help but feel that Charlie had been acting strange lately. I asked him, "Why did you come back?"

He loosened his tie, a simple and rough gesture that was still handsome.

"This is also my home. Is there a problem with me coming back?" Charlie sat opposite me, expressionless, and replied.

"Oh, right." I nodded and continued to lower my head to drink the medicinal broth, but it was just too bitter.

I'm used to drinking black coffee without sugar, but I couldn't adapt to this level of bitterness. Before the liquid could slide down my throat, I vomited again, this time some of it splattering on Charlie's face and shirt.

His expression instantly darkened, and he stared at me coldly.

I was too bitter to say anything. After seeing the droplets hanging from Charlie's ridiculously long eyelashes, I took out a tissue and pressed it against his face. This was my last bit of courtesy.

Charlie grabbed my hand and pushed it away. I was startled by his disgusted gaze, and a familiar bitterness instantly crept into my heart.

"Sorry, the medicine is too bitter." I kept calm and threw the tissue on the ground.

Charlie didn't reply. He just got up and went upstairs to change his clothes.

At that moment, Elizabeth walked in. She swiftly cleaned up the dirty scene, more diligently and carefully than the others.

"You should go cook." After Elizabeth finished cleaning, I said with some exhaustion.

Elizabeth nodded and busied herself in the kitchen.

Pinching my nose, I finished the remaining medicinal broth. Simply eating more wouldn't help my body; I needed to regulate my internal organs to gain some weight.

After drinking the medicine, I went upstairs. I entered the music room, took off the protective cover, and took out the dusty cello that hadn't been played in a long time. Then I played the strings alone, the deep and elegant sound of the cello filling the entire room.

Lost in the music, I recollected everything I had experienced, unaware that Charlie had pushed open the door to the music room at some point.

"It's too noisy," he said impatiently.

I didn't want to play the cello anymore in the first place, so when I heard Charlie's remark, a surge of anger rose within me.

In my past life, it was because he complained about my cello being too noisy that I decided to put away my beloved instrument. Now that I think about it, no wonder Jane and the others called me "brain-dead."

Out of spite, I took the violin bow and played a couple of random notes, producing a clamorous sound that made Charlie's handsome brows furrow tightly.

"Then let's get a divorce. We can each go our separate ways. Even if I were to play the Tuba, it wouldn't disturb you," I elegantly set down the bow and said softly.

"It seems like we could live separately without getting divorced," Charlie replied mockingly.

"Then why did you come back?" I was confused lately. What attracted Charlie to come back home? It couldn't be me, could it?

Charlie seemed unable to adapt to my quick wit, and his face grew even more sullen. Given his temper, he should have turned around and left by now, easily finding solace in the arms of a gentler woman with just a phone call.

But he clearly suppressed his anger and asked me, "Rosalie, it seems like you don't want me to come back. Have you found someone new?"

I thought to myself, "Is this man jealous now?"

I widened my eyes and replied, "Is there a problem? Didn't you say as long as I don't make it public, it's fine?"

"Do you dare betray me?!" Charlie questioned aggressively.

"Equality between men and women. Why can't I do what you do?" I countered.

Just as we confronted each other, Elizabeth cautiously interjected, "Mr. Bennett, Mrs. Bennett, dinner is ready."

I pushed Charlie aside and went downstairs to eat. I no longer wanted to torment myself for him.

Elizabeth's cooking skills were excellent - three dishes and a soup, delicious in terms of appearance, aroma, and taste. I finished two bowls in one breath and caught a glimpse of Charlie leaving downstairs.

"It's so delicious, Elizabeth. With your cooking skills, whoever becomes your husband and children are truly fortunate," I finished the last sip of soup and praised Elizabeth with a smile.

Elizabeth was a little embarrassed. "Madam, they are just ordinary home-cooked dishes. You're too generous with your praise."

I shook my head. "I'm not exaggerating. They really are delicious. Hasn't anyone in your family praised your cooking?"

"My daughter also likes the dishes I make and often asks me to open a small restaurant. She's thinking too simplistically," Elizabeth spoke with love in her eyes when talking about her daughter.

The smile on my lips faded slightly. "Her thinking is not a problem. Sometimes, when luck arrives, achieving a goal is an easy thing to do."

In my previous life, right before I died, I wanted to see Charlie one last time. My mother told me that he was busy with the opening of his future mother-in-law's restaurant and couldn't come. Of course, the restaurant was his investment, ranking among the top three in New York-quite grand.

"Our family of three? We are just ordinary citizens, nothing lucky about us, madam," Elizabeth humbly replied.

"Luck cannot be stopped, Elizabeth. What if your daughter marries well?" I truly wanted to tell her right away not to feel so inferior. The opportunity for your family of three to become wealthy is not far away.

Half a month would soon be upon us.

But I suppressed my feelings and left the table after seeing Elizabeth give me an awkward smile.

I have to admit, the whole Lauren family isn't bad-hearted.

In the previous life, her parents strongly opposed her relationship with Charlie at first. She was still in university when she fell in love with a married man, and it became a scandal.

However, gradually, Elizabeth and Issac were moved by Charlie's persistence and chose to accept it.

But little did they consider that while they were all in bliss, I, the legal wife, was living in torment.

After taking a shower, I comfortably lay on the bed and, as usual before sleeping, scrolled through my phone. I happened to stumble upon the nighttime entertainment news about Charlie indulging in drinks at a bar, accompanied by Clint and a couple of beauties.

Charlie is a man who naturally attracts attention wherever he goes. After all, with his status, even if he eats a bowl of ordinary ramen by the roadside, it can become a hot topic.

As his wife, I often appear frequently in the comment section.

"His wife can really endure!"

"If he were my husband, I would willingly serve as his mistress."

"Why are you so clingy? I'm sure you can't handle it. Let me bear it instead!"

"A group of people with no moral compass. Charlie's scandalous affairs since getting married far outnumber the meals you've had."

"The paparazzi clearly can't take good shots, always missing the crucial moments."

There were sympathetic comments, envious ones, and mocking ones, but I brushed them all off.

Just as I was about to peacefully fall asleep, Yolanda's call startled me awake.

She sounded urgent.

"Rose, come over quickly, something's happened!"