Chapter 182 Charlotte is More Scheming Than Debbie
In the nick of time, Patricia snapped back to reality and, just before their lips touched, she pushed him away in agitation. The reaction was strong and the movement forceful.
Caught off-guard, Hunter stumbled backward, falling onto the sofa and then rolling onto the floor, hitting the back of his head solidly on the corner of the coffee table with a 'bang,' eliciting a pained grunt.
"Ugh..."
"Ah..." Seeing him hit the table, Patricia immediately crouched down to check on him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, let me see if you're hurt."
Hunter shook his head, indicating it was nothing. "I'm fine!"
Patricia, not convinced, forcibly pulled him closer. Before she could check, she felt a dampness in her palm. She opened her hand. A patch of scarlet, her palm was soaked in blood.
"It's bleeding!" Patricia exclaimed, making him lie on the sofa and parting his thick hair.
Sure enough. There was a large gash, on the back of his head, skin deeply sunken, and bright red blood gushing out.
"Let's go, I'll take you to the hospital!" The injury was serious, and Patricia wasn’t willing to delay any longer, grabbing his arm to head to the hospital.
Hunter refused. "Just treat it for me here."
Patricia insisted, her voice laced with concerned. "You need an X-ray at the hospital to check for a concussion."
Hunter chuckled resignedly. "I'm an adult. I know full well whether it's serious or not! It’s nothing to worry about, just a little scrape. Just tend to the wound for me, and it’ll heal in a few days."
"Are you sure it's okay?" Patricia asked.
Hunter nodded earnestly. "I'm certain it's fine! I'm not dizzy, I don’t feel nauseous. If that were to happen, I’d call you to take me to the hospital."
Hearing this, Patricia let out a sigh of relief. She had forgotten that symptoms like dizziness, blurred vision, and nausea could indicate a concussion. Since Hunter showed none of these symptoms, it seemed he was alright for the moment.
With this in mind, Patricia felt at ease, opened the first aid kit, disinfected his wound, and applied medication. After everything was taken care of, and she observed him for a while, she was ready to leave.
Hunter grabbed her wrist, reluctant to let her go. “Are you leaving already?”
Patricia, had much to tell him but knowing it wasn’t the right time, she hesitated. “You’re injured. Get some rest, and call me immediately, if you feel unwell."
Hunter pleaded pitifully, "Can’t you stay a bit longer?"
Unable to bear his pleading gaze but forcing herself to be firm, she said, "It’s still snowing outside, and it looks likely to get heavier. It won't be safe to travel home if I leave later in the evening."
After hearing this, Hunter stopped insisting and offered to escort her downstairs, but Patricia refused adamantly. With no other choice, he reluctantly saw her to the elevator. The elevator doors closed inch by inch.
Watching the numbers jump, Hunter’s smile gradually faded. He turned and entered his apartment expressionlessly, lifted his shirt, and pensively examined his wound, his expression inscrutable.
Standing at the hotel entrance, Patricia looked up at the sky. It was a veil of dreary gray. Fluffy, snowflakes fell densely from the sky, covering the world with a thick blanket of pure white. It was a breathtaking sight to behold.
Patricia took out her phone to check the time, only to find the battery had died. Sighing, hailed a taxi at the hotel entrance, and headed home.
Just as she reached her front door, a figure rushed over and clutched her arm tightly, angrily saying. "Where have you been? Why is your phone off? Do you realize how worried I’ve been?"
When she was able to get a good look, at the figure, she realized it was Martin. His eyes were bloodshot and overcast, but the dominant emotion was concern.
"I..." Patricia began to explain, but Charlotte's voice suddenly interjected, "Hello, Patricia. I'm Charlotte, Martin's younger sister. It’s a pleasure to meet you."
It was only then, that Patricia noticed, Charlotte was also there. She approached with a beaming smile, extending her uninjured hand towards Patricia, giving the impression of a harmless and innocent child. Seeing her smile stirred an innate repulsion within Patricia.
For some reason, Charlotte's smiles always sent a chill down Patricia's spine, carrying an eeriness that hinted at some ulterior plot.
Charlotte's silence elicited a fallen expression as she guiltily and self-reproachfully said, "Patricia, are you still mad at me? I'm truly not the Debbie you speak of. Do we really look that alike?"
Patricia shook her head without uttering a word. With a pitiful tone, Charlotte apologized to her.
"If I've wronged you in any way, I'm sorry! Please stop being mad at me, will you?"
Patricia always felt she was pretending. Yet her expressions seemed so genuine, like it wasn’t an act at all.
"I don't waste time and energy on people I don't know well."
Meaning that Patricia didn’t know Charlotte, so there’s no need for anger. Martin understood, but Charlotte didn't, blinking her innocent eyes at Patricia.
"What do you mean by that, Patricia? I don't understand."
"If you don't understand, never mind!" Patricia said dismissively, unlocking the door with her fingerprint, "Charles is home, why didn't you knock? How long have you been waiting here?"
Hearing Patricia's return, Charles and Fannie, who were watching a drama in the living room, hurriedly ran to greet her, elated.
"Mummy, you're back."
"Mummy, you’re finally home. Why are you so late?"
Then, they noticed Martin and Charlotte following behind her. Charles immediately recognized Charlotte and involuntarily called out, "Charlotte..."
From the moment he learned his father was Martin, he thoroughly investigated the Langley family. Not only, did he know all the persons in the Langley family, but he also knew the details down to where the mouse holes were located in their house.
Although he only had pictures of Charlotte from her childhood, he had tested and projected her adult appearance with the system, plus she shared eighty percent of her mother's features.
With all that information, he recognized her at once.
Charlotte, mistaking him for Randy, smiled and patted his head, "Randy, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the hospital?"
Charles didn't like strangers touching him and took a step back, warily eyeing her, "I'm not Randy, I'm Charles, Randy's twin brother."
"Twin brothers?" Charlotte feigned an expression of extreme shock.
Charles, without further explanation, took Patricia's hand and asked, "Mommy, how did things go? Did it go smoothly?"
He was talking about the separation from Hunter. Martin, feeling a sudden urgency, grasped Patricia’s hand and with a much softer tone spoke to her. "How did your talk with Hunter go? Did you lay everything out on the table?"
Faced with her son's and Martin's pressing inquiries, Patricia chuckled. Charles knew that something had gone wrong again, he could tell from her expression. Martin wasn’t able to discern her expression like Charles.
He began to anxiously question her. "Answer me! Where did you guys go just now? Why are you only back now? Why was your phone turned off? What were you doing?"
Just as Patricia was pondering how to respond, Charlotte interjected inopportunely. "Patricia, Martin was really worried about you; he was calling you non-stop earlier. Just tell him, whatever you did, Martin will forgive you."
It was clear from her response that she had believed Patricia had done some, to betray Martin.
Patricia felt the urge to slap Charlotte across the face. She thought that Charlotte was even more scheming than Debbie.
Except, Charlotte was Martin's own sister, and Martin, blinded by family affection, was unable to see Charlotte's true intentions.
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