Chapter 78
Willow had already rounded the shoe cabinet and reached the corner when Charles yanked her arm. Her upper body jerked backward while her legs caught against the cabinet.
Sharp pain shot through her ankle as she tumbled ungracefully to the floor, her face draining of color.
"Willow?" The anger vanished from Charles's face as he dropped to his knees beside her. "What happened? Where are you hurt?"
He reached out to examine her injury.
Willow clutched her throbbing ankle and slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me!"
Seeing her pallor, guilt flooded Charles's eyes. "I didn't mean to—I just wanted an explanation. I didn't see the cabinet..."
He had never intended to physically harm Willow. She had always been precious to him, something to be protected at all costs.
"Let me look. You might have twisted it. I can massage it for you." He carefully moved closer again.
Willow didn't even glance at him as she gripped the cabinet and painfully pulled herself up.
She attempted a step, confirming her ankle was indeed sprained. The pain was intense.
Before she could protest, Charles rose and steadied her, guiding her to the sofa.
This time, Willow didn't resist.
Once seated, she watched Charles frantically searching for the first-aid kit. Considering everything that had happened between them recently, a profound weariness settled over her.
"I'll explain one last time," she said flatly. "There's nothing between Uncle Sterling and me. He simply offered me an interview opportunity because he saw my proposal and thought I had potential—and because I couldn't find work elsewhere."
A flash of irony crossed her face.
Charles paused in his search.
In a way, hadn't he pushed Willow toward Lancaster Group himself? Yet he had also invited her to work at Everpine Group.
"We're getting divorced. I need a job to support myself and my grandmother. I had no choice." Willow's voice cut through his thoughts. "Charles, if you truly still love me, let me go. At the very least, don't interfere with my work."
Charles finally located the medical kit in the TV cabinet and returned to her side, unable to meet her eyes.
Her tone and words filled him with a powerful sense of guilt. It seemed as though all of Willow's suffering had been caused by him.
Looking back, perhaps that was true. But he was suffering too.
He said nothing and tried to tend to her ankle.
Willow pulled away. "I can manage. It's late—you should go. You're still running a fever."
Hearing even this small hint of concern from her made Charles's eyes burn.
After a moment, he sighed heavily and firmly took hold of her injured ankle. "I caused this, Willow. Let me stay and take care of you. I promise I won't do anything else."
In just the few minutes since her fall, her ankle had swollen considerably, the redness looking alarming.
Charles tried to be gentle with his massage, but Willow still tensed from the pain.
They sat in silence, the moment reminiscent of earlier days in their relationship.
"After your father passed away, I stayed with you at your place," Charles said softly, carefully watching her expression.
"You were busy with part-time jobs, and I worried you'd exhaust yourself. I used to massage your feet every night, just like this."
He swallowed. "Willow, we were so good together. I've been impulsive lately, and I apologize. I'll do anything you ask. Can we start over?"
Willow's resolve wavered momentarily.
During their brief silence, she too had remembered that period.
Despite his privileged background, Charles had never shown any disdain for her modest home. He had helped care for her father and grandmother without complaint.
When she tutored high school students in the evenings, he would pick her up, worried about her safety.
Back then, she had truly believed he was someone she could spend her life with.
But now...
Her gaze fell on her phone lying on the table, and her eyes hardened again.
"I'm tired," she said, not answering his plea. "Stay if you want. You can sleep on the sofa."
She pulled her ankle from his grasp and used the sofa for support as she stood.
Charles didn't dare say more. He helped her to the bedroom.
At the doorway, Willow released his arm and gripped the frame instead, closing the door firmly in his face.
Charles heard the distinct click of the lock.
He returned to the sofa, running his hand through his hair in frustration. He remained there, sleepless until dawn.
Inside the bedroom, Willow only fell into a fitful sleep as the sun began to rise.
---
At seven o'clock, Charles checked the time and pulled out his phone, finding Sterling's number.
After a moment's hesitation, he glanced toward the bedroom. Hearing no movement, he assumed Willow was still asleep.
Something shifted in his expression as he turned away and dialed.
Sterling answered quickly. "What is it?" He had just come downstairs for breakfast.
Charles tightened his grip on the phone, choosing his words carefully. "Uncle Sterling, I heard Willow is working at Lancaster Group?"
"Is there a problem?" Sterling's tone revealed nothing.
Charles paused for several seconds before forcing a sheepish laugh. "Actually, I'd like to request a day off for her."
Before Sterling could respond, he continued, "We had a misunderstanding recently, but we cleared things up last night. I got a bit carried away, and she's exhausted. We're newlyweds after all, Uncle Sterling. I'm sure you understand?"
He was deliberately staking his claim.
On the other end, Sterling stared at the breakfast he'd just prepared, his appetite suddenly gone.
He set down his bread. "If she needs time off, she should contact her department head. Why are you calling me? Is that how things work at your Everpine Group?"
Charles's face darkened momentarily at the rebuke before he quickly recovered. "I don't have her supervisor's contact information, so—"
"Then she can request it herself," Sterling cut him off. "I have no interest in your private life."
With that, he ended the call.
Charles stared at the disconnected screen, his brow furrowed with suspicion.
He had hoped to gauge Sterling's relationship with Willow, but his uncle's response told him nothing conclusive.
As for Willow, he didn't dare push too hard right now.
After considering his options, Charles scrolled to another number and made a call.
"I need you to follow someone for me."