Chapter 3

At seven that evening, Charlotte arrived at the restaurant.

William stood up as she approached and politely pulled out her chair for her.

She sat down quietly, watching him as he ordered. He was dressed in a black suit with a matching shirt, the dark tones highlighting his composed and refined demeanor rather than dulling it.

The Harris family had raised William to be an heir from the time he was a child. He came from an excellent background and had a top-tier education. He was capable, well-mannered, and intelligent.

In the twenty-five years Charlotte had known him, she had never once heard him raise his voice or lose his temper. Even with the waitstaff, he was unfailingly courteous.

It was as if everything in his life was under perfect control.

William was exceptional.

And yet such an exceptional man had married a woman he didn’t love. Divorce, she thought, was inevitable.

While they waited for their food, William placed a jewelry box on the table beside her hand. “A gift for our third anniversary,” he said.

Charlotte wrapped both hands around her glass, nodded, and gave the box a brief glance. Her face stayed calm and distant.

She had loved William for twenty-two years and been married to him for three. No one knew better than she did how cold the heart behind his polite exterior could be, or how far away he truly was from her.

When she was younger, she had been foolish and spoiled, always clinging to him and pestering him for gifts. When he grew impatient, he would give in and buy her something just to quiet her down. She would treasure it for days, proud of every small token he gave her.

After her family went bankrupt, Julia told her she was no longer the York family’s privileged daughter, just an ordinary girl now. Julia had said that she and William no longer came from the same world, that she wasn’t worthy of him anymore.

From then on, Charlotte had stopped acting like a spoiled heiress. She never dared to ask him for anything again.

Even though William didn’t love her, he still knew how to keep up appearances. Every year, without fail, he sent her gifts for her birthday, Valentine’s Day, their anniversary, even Women’s Day.

Seeing how disinterested she was, William opened the jewelry box himself and took out a diamond bracelet. One glance told her it was worth at least seven figures.

William reached out and took her left hand, fastening the bracelet around her wrist. Charlotte instinctively tried to pull away, but his grip tightened.

He looked up at her, his eyes assessing. “You don’t like it?”

Once upon a time, he could have given her something as simple as a hair tie, and she would have been overjoyed. Now, he was putting a diamond bracelet on her wrist, and she was pulling away.

Charlotte shook her head lightly. “It’s fine,” she said.

William clasped the bracelet anyway. “It looks beautiful,” he replied.

“Thank you,” Charlotte said softly.

He frowned.

Charlotte had grown up following him everywhere. From the moment she could talk, she knew how to ask him for things.

No matter how big or small the gift, as long as it came from him, she would take it without hesitation. She had never been polite with him.

Yet after three years of marriage, she had somehow learned to be.

William assumed she was simply sulking, upset that he had been neglecting her and had missed their anniversary.

He picked up the utensils and set her plate. “Your favorite matcha truffles,” he said.

Charlotte stared down at the dish, then lifted her gaze to him. “If I wanted to eat something you made yourself,” she asked quietly, “would you learn to make it for me?”

William sliced his steak with practiced ease, his voice smooth and deep. “Leave things to the professionals. Even the apprentices at this restaurant cook better than I would. Whatever you want to eat, just go buy it. Don’t worry about the money.”

Charlotte lowered her gaze, hiding the disappointment and pain in her eyes.

So that was what he meant by “leaving things to the professionals.”

He could bake a blueberry cake from scratch for his first love and her son, post about it online like a lovestruck teenager, yet he couldn’t even bother to learn how to make a simple dessert for her.

The difference between love and indifference had never been so obvious.

Charlotte took a bite of the matcha truffle. It was bitter, almost impossible to swallow. She frowned but forced it down. The taste mirrored her mood, heavy and bitter, with nowhere for the sadness to go.

She didn’t feel like speaking anymore. Every bite tasted dry and empty.

William, as always, ate quietly. He disliked talking during meals, his movements elegant and precise.

The only sound between them was the soft clink of silverware. The silence felt thick and suffocating.

He finally set down his utensils and looked at her closely.

When she was a child, she could never sit still at the table. As she got older, she would chatter endlessly through dinner. When they were alone together, she could barely resist climbing into his lap and letting him feed her.

He used to think she had trouble focusing and once half-joked to her parents that they should have her checked by a doctor.

Even when she was angry with him, she would cry, pout, or act spoiled but never like this.

William tugged lightly at his collar, feeling a wave of irritation.

Just then, his phone lit up beside him with a message.

He glanced at the screen, turned it off, and reached for the pitcher to refill her glass. Right before he could tilt the pitcher, the phone started vibrating.

He hesitated, then declined the call and poured her juice.

Before he could put the pitcher away, the phone buzzed again.

Their eyes met. His expression darkened slightly.

Charlotte’s gaze fell to the phone that wouldn’t stop ringing. In all the years she had known William, even when something important came up, she rarely called him more than once.

If he didn’t answer, she would just text him instead. She could send him dozens of messages in a row, but she never dared to call repeatedly.

That was one of his unspoken rules.

She also knew how busy he was, always tied up with meetings and formal events, and she never wanted to be a burden.

But the call that kept coming in now was clearly from his first love.

In William’s eyes, she could see urgency, but not anger.

When the fourth call came through, he finally spoke. “I’ll have the driver take you home. Get some rest. Don’t wait up.”

As he stood, Charlotte rose too.

She swallowed the dull ache in her chest and picked up her purse and phone. “It’s fine. You go ahead. I’ll call a cab.”

William didn’t explain, and she didn’t ask.

Still lost in thought, she turned to leave and accidentally bumped into a passing waiter. Her purse and phone slipped from her hands and hit the floor, scattering everything across the tiles, including the divorce papers she had printed earlier that day at the law firm.

William bent down to help, but Charlotte was quicker. She grabbed the papers and held them close to her chest.

This wasn’t the time to confront him. Everything could wait until after Julia was discharged from the hospital.

William’s eyes moved from the scattered items on the floor to the document in her hand. His expression grew guarded.

He reached toward her. “What are you holding?”

“Just some medical research,” she said evenly.

He didn’t seem convinced. “Is that so?”

Charlotte tried to take a step back, but he caught the edge of the papers.

They each held on tightly, neither willing to let go.

Just as the corner of the document began to slip from her fingers, his phone started vibrating again.

William looked at her for a moment, then let go.