Chapter 13

After they'd spent hours at Rachael's parents' house, Rachael and Charles decided to go home, though Rachael was giving him the silent treatment. 

Ashley had held herself from breaking a vase on Charles' face. She didn't really hold herself back, she was sent into her room by her father because she was downright angry with him. 

Charles opened the passenger seat door for Rachael. She settled in and kept her head straight ahead. She didn't spare him a glance. 

The only reason Rachael was doing that was to get Charles to tell her the secret he was keeping from everyone. She would soon stop. Charles wasn't, too, sure that she would succumb. That was something he'd never done, so he didn't know what it turned Rachael into. 

They didn't talk to each other until they reached home. Rachael went straight upstairs to bed. She didn't care about how he felt, because he technically didn't care about her feelings, too. If he did, he would have told her what he was hiding from her. If he couldn't trust everyone, he could trust her, at most. 

Rachael couldn't hold back the tears that were in her eyes. She sat on the bed, cupped her head between her knees and let the tears roll down from her eyes. After crying for few minutes, she went into the bathroom. She undressed herself and went under the shower. Rachael threw on a blue, short, nightgown and went back into the room. She ignored Charles who had entered the room when she was taking her shower. 

She knew they had planned to have the craziest sex of their life on that day, so she had to make him remember that it was his fault they weren't going to anymore. It was seen in his eyes that he wanted to hold her with his virile hands, give her a head until she cum, and fuck her so hard that she would want more after he'd ejaculated. 

Charles erased such thoughts from his head. Sleeping with an erected penis wasn't what he had thought of for that day. So it was better he stayed focused— stayed focused on nothing. 

Rachael slid into the bed and cover from her toes to her thighs with the blanket. She turned her back to him, knowing that the shape of her ass was staring at his eyes. She wasn't sure what she would do if he'd touched her.

Resisting his touches was tough. 

Rachael pretended to be sleeping, anticipating Charles making the moves. She was downhearted when he didn't. He went into the bathroom to take his shower. Minutes later, he came out with only a white towel wrapped around his waist. 

She wanted to look. Rachael knew what a view it was when Charles had water dripping from his head. His abdominal muscles had to be shooting out, drenched. 

Rachael wanted to let go of her ego so she could satisfy her body, but she had to be strong. If she didn't know how to resist his temptation, he would always do that after they'd fight...to tempt her. 

Charles intentional dropped the towel when he was standing where her head was facing. She closed her eyes tightly when she saw his beautiful penis dangling as he went to close the window. Charles held back a smirk. He didn't want to make her more angry than she already was.

After seeing that Rachael wasn't yielding to what he planned, he climbed in bed with only shorts on. He stared at the ceiling until sleep consumed him. 

Rachael woke up by seven am the next morning. Charles was still snoring next to her. She watched his chest move up and down as he slept. His lashes looked longer when his eyes were closed. 

Not wanting to think about last night, she took her shower and got dressed. She wore a dark blue knee-length, small arms, flag dress. The pink heels and bag complemented the dress code. She was putting on her pink lipstick when Charles woke up. 

He rubbed his eyes and yawned. He was confused when he saw her all dressed up. "Where are you going this morning?" He asked her, sitting up to have a better view of her back. 

"Work," she replied promptly. 

"You gave yourself a leave for two weeks, right?" He was more of reminding her than asking her. 

"I don't see why I shouldn't go to work when there is no honeymoon," Rachael said as she applied blush. "I gave the leave because it was necessary. Since it's not necessary, I'll keep myself busy. Fashion week is right around the corner by the way."

Rachael was unbelievable. After all that she went through yesterday, she was going to work. Who does that? 

"We can go on a date, or, better still, we can go on a trip together." He got off the bed. Before he could get any closer, she walked out of the room. She didn't want to keep seeing his face. Who knows what would've happened if they had stayed together? She had to stay away from him. That was the only way to avoid letting go of her pride. 

The driver was flabbergasted when he saw Rachael coming out of the house. He ran to open the car door for her, but she passed by him and went straight out to get a taxi. 

"Where to miss?" the taxi driver asked her when she closed the door after sitting in the car. He stared at her from the rearview mirror. 

"Rachael's," she retorted. 

"You work for her?" The driver ask along the way. He wasn't the kind who liked silence. "Heard her mate stopped her wedding yesterday."

Rachael wanted to yell at him, tell him that Charles wasn't having an affair with that disgusting woman, but it would've only added more sauce to the gossips. She couldn't stop people from talking; they, too, couldn't stop her from getting mad.  

The man was a gossip. He was clearly trying to make her say what she knew. That was how they bought expensive gossips. 

"I don't know about that," she said to him, hiding her face so she couldn't be recognized. 

He stared at her again. "But you work for her."

"I only work for her. I don't go about putting my nose where it doesn't belong." She kept her head down until they reached her office. Thankfully, the driver stopped asking after her rejoinder. 

Rachael paid him and walked into the building, glad that those journalists weren't around because they thought she was going to spend all week crying. At the door, the security stopped her. He had in his hand a flat, wrapped gift. 

"This is for you, ma'am," he said after greeting her, giving her the gift. 

Did she make the right choice by coming to work? The first person that she encountered was already provoking her. What else the day had in store for her. 

"It's from someone; not from me," he amended when he saw her frowning at the gift. "It came early this morning."

"Who is it from?" She asked him. Her eyes stayed on the gift. Whosoever that sent it was teasing her. 

"Will."

Will? She didn't know anyone by that name. 

"Put it in the trash can," she ordered him.