Scarlett's POV:
The atmosphere in the car was depressing, and the expression on Charles's face was so horribly icy. I avoided his gaze the entire time and just looked out the window. The surroundings outside blurred past us, showing me how fast he was driving.
Without really thinking about it, I grabbed on to the handrail on my door. Suddenly, the car came to a screeching halt on the side of the road. The force threw me so strongly forward that I felt the seat belt bruise my shoulder.
I screamed and turned to glare at Charles.
"What's wrong with you? I didn't ask you to pick me up. You should've just stayed with Rita if you wanted to. Why couldn't you leave me out of it?" I said crossly.
"We're still married, Scarlett. Why are you already flirting with another man?" Charles muttered in a harsh, accusatory tone.
"What?" It took me some time to understand what he was talking about, but after a few moments, I finally got what he meant. I looked him dead in the eye and backfired, "I wasn't flirting. I was talking to a colleague. Honestly, I've had enough of your overreactions. We're as good as broken up. We're getting a divorce." "You know we haven't gone through the formalities yet," Charles emphasized.
"What's the difference? Besides, you're not in love with me. You're in love with Rita. It's pointless for you to try and fence me in."
"It has nothing to do with love. No man wants his wife to talk and laugh with other men."
"Then that's your problem. I have the right to socialize as I please."
After saying that, I kept my eyes fixed out the window and ignored Charles's murderous stares.
None of us spoke for a while until Charles just gave up and gunned the engine again. This time, he drove even faster.
"If you want your Rita to die without anyone taking care of her, then be my guest and drive your car like you stole it," I reminded him sarcastically as I tightened my seat belt.
Charles flashed me a death glare, his eyes narrowing into slits.
After a few heartbeats, he eased off the gas and slowed the car down. If I had known that mentioning Rita's name would stop him from acting like a lunatic, I would have uttered it sooner.
It seemed that Rita was really the only woman who easily affected him.
When we arrived at the mansion, the butler was at the door to greet us and immediately caught Charles's sour mood. He couldn't help but whisper to me, "Miss Scarlett, is Mr. Charles okay? What's wrong with him?"
"He'll be fine. Let's just leave him alone." I smiled at the butler.
The butler simply nodded in understanding and turned to close the front door.
When we entered the living room, the elders cheerfully welcomed us. I greeted them with a smile.
"You're finally here. Welcome. Let's start dinner. You must be hungry after a whole day's work." Michael Moore, Charles's grandfather, flashed me a kind smile like he always did and ushered us to the dining room.
Michael took the seat at the head of the table. Charles and I sat down to his right while Alice, Lawrence, and Christine took the seats to his left. Soon, dinner was served, and we started eating. Like every patriarch in a prominent family, Michael was the most venerable man among the Moores. Everybody equally feared and respected him, but he had always been gentle to me, and he honored me as much as I honored him.
Thinking about how Charles's family had treated me so well over the years, I suddenly got cold feet about bringing up the divorce.
But when I thought about Rita and Charles going shopping for wedding dresses together while Charles was still married to me, I managed to summon enough courage to open my mouth. "I'm sorry to ask this of you, Grandpa, but I would like to have Charles and I's marriage certificate, please. We've decided to get a divorce."
Everyone stopped and turned to look at me.
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