"What about your car?" Janet glanced at Charles, who was driving the small red sports car. Somehow, it looked a bit funny seeing such a tall, handsome man behind the wheel of something so compact.
"Left it at the company." Charles gave Janet a quick sideways glance with a faint smile at the corner of his mouth, answering calmly. He didn't ask why Peggy's car was in her hands.
The tense silence made Janet feel a little breathless. Charles focused solely on driving, not saying another word, but a faint haze of gloom seemed to settle over his sharply sculpted face.
When they arrived back at the villa, Auntie Fang had already prepared dinner on the table. Janet watched his reactions — still so distant, neither cold nor warm. He cared for her deeply, reminding her not to wash the dishes lest her injured hand get infected. Yet, he wouldn't spare her more than a passing glance. Janet disliked this push-and-pull feeling.
