Chapter 2 A Spark of Reconciliation

Angie met his gaze. "Coming back to the Flower Garden for dinner tonight?"

Charlie loosened his collar, silent.

"Learned a few dishes from your sister-in-law," she added, smiling hopefully.

His eyebrows rose. "You? Cooking?"

Angie bristled at his scepticism. Sure, she'd been a pampered princess once, but things had changed.

"Mhm. Want to try it?" she asked, eyes twinkling mischievously.

Charlie's smile was cold. "Failed at drugging me, so now resorting to poison?"

Angie winced internally. Her past misdeeds were clearly fresh in his mind.

She tilted her head back, exposing marked collarbones - deliberate or not, the effect was immediate. "After last night's... intensity, I'd be first to go if I tried poisoning you."

Charlie's gaze darkened as he studied her. He hadn't held back last night, leaving her bruised and exhausted this morning. He'd left early to avoid another divorce argument.

"Given how much you hate me, a murder-suicide wouldn't be surprising," he said flatly.

Angie rolled her eyes. "Please. If I wanted us both dead, I'd just strap on a bomb and find you. Much more efficient."

Charlie ignored her, focusing on work. But Angie persisted, staring until he finally looked up, exasperated. "What do you want?"

"To have dinner with you," she replied simply.

His brow furrowed. "Another ploy for divorce? What game now?"

Fine. If he wanted to be difficult...

Angie sauntered over, leaning across his desk. Up close, his handsome features were even more striking. How had she ever wanted to leave this man?

She blocked his view of some financial reports, smiling coyly. "Come on, won't you come home?"

"I'm working," he said curtly.

"I can wait," she countered, batting her eyelashes.

Charlie's patience was wearing thin. "Video conference tonight. Go home."

"That's fine, I'll wait for you!"

He snapped the folder shut, fixing her with an icy stare. "What are you up to?"

Angie met his gaze steadily. "We've already slept together. What else could I possibly have planned?"

Charlie looked like he was seriously considering throwing her out.

---

True to his word, Charlie disappeared for his video conference, leaving Angie alone in his office.

Two hours passed. She dozed off on the couch, jolting awake with a start. Would he really leave her here all night? Given how terribly she'd treated him before, it wasn't impossible...

Anxious, Angie slipped into the adjoining room - Charlie's private rest area, with a bathroom and bed.

She desperately needed a shower. From those hellish months of captivity, even the slightest hint of sweat made her skin crawl.

Risking it, she grabbed one of Charlie's crisp white shirts from the closet and headed for the shower.

Fifteen minutes later, Charlie returns to find his office empty save for Angie's lingering perfume. He paused, frowning when rustling from the rest area caught his attention.

Angie emerged from the bathroom, toweling her damp hair. She froze seeing Charlie in the doorway, clearly caught off guard.

His eyes widened, taking in her wrapped in nothing but his oversize shirt, droplets clinging to her bare legs. The neckline slipped off one shoulder, revealing tantalizing skin.

Angie felt heat rush to her face under his intense gaze. She pressed her thighs together, acutely aware of her lack of underwear.

"I... thought you might have left me here for the night," she stammered, explaining her presence.

Charlie averted his eyes. "Put your own clothes back on."

"Didn't bring a change, but I called Flower Garden. Someone should bring some soon." She padded closer, ignoring his obvious discomfort. "Done with work? Can we go home now?"

Charlie remained silent, eyeing her warily as she approached.

"Must be pretty late," Angie mused, reaching for his arm to check his watch. It was a beautiful Patek Philippe that suited his refined style perfectly. How had a man like him ever fallen for someone like her?

As she started to pull away, Charlie suddenly gripped her wrist, pinning her against the wall. His body caged her in as he growled, "Angie, what are you playing at?"

She met his gaze unflinchingly. "Since last night, I've been seriously reconsidering our relationship."

His expression remained guarded. "Suddenly so well-behaved? What's the price? Divorce?"

The word sent a chill down Angie's spine as memories flooded back. She stared into his eyes, resolved to harden.

Without warning, she grabbed his neck and crushed her lips against his in a fierce kiss.

Charlie's gaze flickered as he pulled back.

Emboldened by an unknown courage, Angie stood on tiptoes and pressed her lips against his once more. She clung to his shirt collar, refusing to let go or break the kiss.

Charlie pushed her away roughly, his voice hoarse. "Angie, do you even know what you're doing?"

"I do! I'm perfectly clear-headed!" Angie persisted, moving closer. Her clear eyes gazed into his. "Charlie, tonight I'll either stay with you at company or go home with you. You choose!"

The night concealed many things, but not the determination in Angie's eyes.

Charlie stared at her for a long moment.

Angie fearlessly met his gaze.

In the end, Charlie didn't answer verbally, but his silent action of draping his jacket over her shoulders was his most direct response.

Seeing this wordless gesture, Angie's eyes grew misty.

Even though still angry, he couldn't help but be kind to her.

She truly hated her former ungrateful self!

On the way back to Flower Garden, Angie sat in Charlie's car, fair fingers fidgeting with the seatbelt.

She kept sneaking glances at the calm, quiet man driving, as streetlights and neon signs filtered through the windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors over his handsome features.

Thinking of her past behavior, she realized that with Charlie's family background and personal assets, he could have easily left her at home and gone out to play with actresses or socialites whenever he wanted.

But he never seemed to have spared those women a second glance.

She suddenly broke the silence: "The Bennett family's driver rarely shows up. Do you often drive yourself home?"

"Sometimes," he replied.

"You didn't sleep much last night, and you worked all day. Aren't you tired?"

Charlie glanced at her, his look seeming to say: Wasn't it her fault he hadn't slept all night?

Angie turned away; her ears growing hot. "I mean, you shouldn't neglect your health because of work. From now on, you should go home when it's time to leave work and rest when you need to..."

Before she could finish, suddenly, an overloaded truck came speeding from an intersection ahead. It didn't slow down while turning, as if its brakes had failed, and headed straight for them-

"Watch out!"

Angie cried out, but Charlie had already swiftly turned the steering wheel, avoiding the oncoming truck. The screech of brakes pierced the air-

Angie had been clutching her seatbelt, leaving her body unprotected for a moment. She lurched forward violently, her head slamming against the dashboard. She let out a pained "Ah!"

"Did you hit your head?" Charlie immediately reached over, carefully examining her reddening forehead.

"Ouch... don't touch it!" Angie's entire face scrunched up in pain as she pushed his hand away.

Charlie forcefully held her still, raising his hand to the back of her head and sternly making her turn her face completely towards him.

Seeing that she had hit her head quite hard, with a red swelling already forming, and her eyes reddening from the pain, his brows furrowed. "Did you hit it badly? Does it hurt a lot? Are you dizzy?"

"It hurts..." Angie said softly.

In reality, it was just a bump that would probably swell up tomorrow at most. She hadn't meant to act too delicate, but suddenly catching that hint of concern and care in his eyes, she instinctively wanted to play it up a bit.

Charlie's concern is this long-lost sense of belonging.

Her husband, so close to her now, still cares about her. It felt so good.

"I'll take you to the hospital," Charlie said, helping her sit up straight and refastening her seatbelt.

Angie balked at the mention of the hospital, quickly pressing her hand to her head. "It's not that serious. It's so late, let's not trouble the doctors."

Charlie gave her no chance to refuse, warning her with a look not to move.

"I'm really fine..."

There was a city hospital nearby. Ignoring her quiet protests, Charlie took her straight to the emergency room.

Only after Angie's forehead had been treated, and the doctor assured them that her injury was just a swelling that would last a few days, not even a mild concussion, did he finally agree to take her home.